Davos left the bewildered arrivals in their chamber with a promise of answers over dinner in an hour.

The room and the one adjoining it weren't very large, but the tall windows, isolated against the winds of the bay, made it feel like home. When winter came, Brienne had thought she might never see the Narrow Sea again - seeing it now in the darkening dusk, heralded by the merest sliver of the moon, nearly made her giddy. As she stood at the window, vibrant violets shooting across the sky, she felt her husband's arms wrap around her middle, his chin coming to rest in the crook of her shoulder. They breathed the sea air in deeply, together, and for the first time in weeks truly relaxed against one another.

"It's the last night of the moon's cycle," she murmured, "the next few nights will be very dark."

Jaime kissed her neck, then pressed his lips mid-murmer against her the back of her shoulder blade. She covered his arms with hers, and stroked him gently, "What, Jaime?"

He freed his lips from her skin again. "You know the moon well."

She shrugged, "If I pay attention to the moon, I needn't count the days to plan for my courses."

"Ah - and what does this moon tell you?"

"That they'll likely begin in two days' time."

He hummed against her back. "I noticed our supply is running low."

The moon tea, Brienne thought. It was running low - not that the two of them always needed it given their general hunger for each other, but she was spoiled and the thought of ever going more than a day or two without him inside her again was physically painful. "It is. But the maesters say that this close to one's moonblood, it doesn't matter - I shouldn't need to use it for the next sennight. Perhaps by then we'll be able to get more - either here or in King's Landing.

"Perhaps the war will be over by then."

She turned in his arms and cupped his face with both hands. "You don't believe that, though."

He looked past her at the darkening sky, then met her gaze. "No… no I think we'll still be fighting. But as soon as it's over - the moment we're free - you can be rid of that vile stuff. If… if that is what you want." That funny little notch in her brow appeared as she squinted at him, and he lifted onto his toes to kiss it away. "It's your choice. I will defer to you. As long as I have you, I will want for nothing."

It's perfectly reckless
Damn you leave me defenseless

She kissed him then, slowly at first, then bit by bit their garments began to slide from shoulders and hips - far enough to give access but not far enough to be entirely salacious. And yet when he turned her and told her to brace herself against the window pane and pushed her back into in an arch right before sliding into her from behind, she felt wholly wanton.

It was one thing to have never imagined that she would see the sea again - it was quite another to ever have believed that she might get to see it and smell it and hear it while her husband fucked her so thoroughly that her toes curled. Her arms lost their strength as she came, and her chest pushed up against the glass, her nipples tightening against the frigid surface. Her arm flailed back, gripping Jaime's stump, all she could do to stay standing as her body shuddered.

As soon as she touched his arm, Jaime was lost. He grunted her name and moved his good hand to the stonework next to the window in an effort to keep from pounding her through the glass as he spent deep inside of her. They remained hunched together as he softened, kissing wordless syllables into her shoulders. Weak, she tilted her hips to release him and tried to straighten up, but Jaime clung to her. She slowly turned and ambled toward the bed with her breeches still at her knees, pulling Jaime along behind her. She dropped onto the bed, and pulled him down next to her. And there they lay spent and sated and panting until Podrick knocked to summon them for dinner.

"Poison?" Jaime paused with stew halfway from his dish to his mouth to ask this of the new king.

"Varys thought she was mad. At first she wouldn't eat but eventually-"

"-was she?"

"Was she what"

"Mad. I know you don't want to hear this, what with you apparently being blood and all, but Targaryens seem to own it more often than not."

Jon gritted his teeth, "You could say the same for Lannisters - their villainy is well-known."

Jaime speared some meat and brought it to his mouth with a grin, "The villainy I'll grant you - the madness is much less common."

Jon conceded. "She was upset. I believe that circumstances may have triggered something in her, but I truly think it may have been of the moment."

"She wanted me dead enough at Winterfell."

Brienne interrupted before either of them said something regretful, "And her men?"

Jon looked at her gratefully. "The Dothraki rode north along the coast. The Unsullied remain."

"They've not abandoned you?"

"Grey Worm thought Varys an instrument of Cersei. They stay to see that the queen's justice is carried out. And while he doesn't follow me, he knows that I was loyal to her - he will fight with us."

"And what of the dragon," asked Jaime, "we understood that Rhaegal was killed, but Drogon…?"

The reluctant king shook his head, "Drogon flew off - east. We've not seen him since. So in that way, your brother has been safe." Jaime gripped Brienne's hand under the table. She shifted and turned her palm to his, allowing her thumb to stroke the strained muscle beneath the soft skin between his thumb and forefinger.

"The dragon was keeping her armies at bay," Davos interjected with a glance toward Jaime, "and she doesn't strike me as a patient sort…she's still holding back and we think it's because she believes we still have one of the beasts. Instead she's employing… other options." He looked somewhat sympathetically at Brienne, then looked to his king for permission to continue. At his nod, Davos produced an unbound scroll from his cloak.

"She's marrying Euron Greyjoy, though it's unclear why exactly. The one bit of good news is that we managed to dispense with most of his men already. They took to pillaging Flea Bottom and, as you might imagine, the people didn't take kindly to that. So when we set fire to their ships and got them to come out into the open, the people revolted and, with some assistance from the Unsullied, the Iron fleet is at the bottom of the bay, save for one or two ships which we believe to be somewhat south of the capital even now with members of the Golden Company. Even so, she's marrying the bugger, and she's demanding that the lords and ladies of the seven kingdoms all come to bend the knee." He caught Jaime's eye, "We assume this is a trap."

"The wildfire," Arya whispered.

Davos cocked his head, "She wouldn't."

"Ser Davos," Jaime began, "believe me - she would. You were on the Blackwater - that was only part of Aerys' caches. The sept," Jaime swallowed thickly and Brienne pulled his hand to her lap, covering it with her other, "Qyburn found more of it, but no doubt he knows where the rest is stored. It's only a matter of time. Cersei wiped out the Tyrells and an entire religion at the Sept of Baelor, and she has remained unchecked since then. Where is the ceremony to be held?"

"In the Red Keep - the throne room, but if she's trying to keep the throne-"

Jaime looked grim. "She's very good at destroying the things she loves. She's always been that way. In the end, the keep might be destroyed but she won't be there. She'll kill the head of every house if it means maintaining her crown…"

"Varys poisoned the wrong queen," said Arya wryly, "does he live?"

Jon cleared his throat. "Grey Worm executed him. It is not the choice I would have made, but he was there on Dragonstone and I was laid up here - there was nothing to be done."

"And do the Unsullied follow you now?"

Jon looked almost startled to hear Brienne's voice, she'd been so silent. "They do as long as Grey Worm does - but even then, our remaining fleet is small, and our army is small. So must our tactics be. The Lannister armies now guard the Gate of the Gods and the Lion's Gate, and the Golden Company appears to be guarding the River Gate, though we believe them to be occupying a good portion of the Kingswood as well."

If that were true, Gendry's forces would run right into them, Brienne thought. She chanced a glance at Arya who seemed to be coming to the same conclusion. "Have we had word yet from Storm's End?" Jaime let go of Brienne's hand and reached for the scroll sitting in front of Davos, gripping it as he peered at its contents."

"Not yet, my lady," said Davos, watching Jaime's expression change from curiosity to rage, his hand shaking.

The scroll crunched. "This invitation is sent to Brienne - why?"

So break in

Davos took a breath and looked at both of them in turn. "It was sent to Winterfell and Lady Sansa sent it to us. We don't think Cersei is aware of your movements - at least, definitely not Ser Brienne's. The day you left Winterfell, my lady, one of the kitchen girls was caught sneaking into the rookery. The note they found on her would have betrayed your departure south - we don't know if Ser Jaime's plans were already betrayed. Lady Sansa dealt with the matter and we don't believe Cersei had any other spies in the north. She's still sending ravens there, addressed to both of you individually which, we believe, means that she is also unaware of your marriage."

Jaime reached for Brienne again and found her hand clammy, her anxiety raising its head. "Then why invite me? Without my marriage, I am only an heir."

All at the table paled when Davos produced another scroll. "We received three forwarded messages from Winterfell yesterday - an invitation to each of you, and this one." He tapped it against the table as if considering whether to hand it over or throw it into the fire. "I'm…" he looked to his king, but Jon only ticked his eyes in his direction, urging him to proceed. "Lady Brienne… we have no proof of the truth of her message - we cannot get scouts far enough South but-"

"-Tarth."

She said it so quietly that Jaime had to look up at her to confirm whether she had spoken at all. He could see the shadows of tears beginning to form in her eyes, but her resilience was stronger than her sorrow. She would not weep or show weakness here in the open.

"My lady," said Davos, finally pushing the scroll in her direction, "the letter suggests that Tarth had been raided by the Golden Company… and that… that the Evenstar had been executed for treason."

Brienne picked up the scroll and clutched it to her chest, her other hand slippery in Jaime's grasp. "How?"

Davos and Jon looked at her quizzically.

"Executed how?" she clarified.

Davos studied the table, "by hanging, my lady. Or so she says."

Brienne nodded.

Jaime suddenly peered at her, eyes wide, "If that's true-"

"then I am the Evenstar now, and…" she looked at Davos expectantly.

He nodded. "And that's why you're expected at the wedding."

The moment they reached their chamber, Brienne tore her clothes off. Jaime stood back and let her strom run its course. She hopped from one foot to the other removing her boots, cursing. She stripped her garments off muttering about their constriction, leaving only her smallclothes. While he stoked the fire, she took the basin of water that had been left on the sideboard and moved it to the table where she sat.

He watched curiously as she bent over it, pushing her hair back from her face and then, in a swift motion, plunged her face full into the water and screamed causing it to bubble around her head. Jaime set the poker down and crossed to her, reaching her as she pulled her head up, flipping her hair back and casting water across the small chamber.

And take everything I have

Her hands gripped the edge of the table as she panted, water catching on her eyelashes, dripping from the edge of her nose, and running down her neck past the border of the band at her chest. Jaime had stopped inches from her and was now hesitating, unsure of whether she would want him there, or if she preferred to grieve her father alone. He chose to loosen his tunic and sit in the other chair, his hand resting on the table, within reach of her.

They made eye contact, and the fierceness in her eyes mellowed. She looked at him, then down at the water, and her look turned sheepish. "I'm sorry if I startled you."

"You need never apologize."

She looked at his hand but didn't take it. Instead she released her grip on the able and rubbed her hands together soothingly in her lap. "When I was young - after my brother died - I was angry… a lot. My father seemed to not be able to even look at me, and I was often left alone or with my septa. She was awful. She hated me. Everything I did was wrong. Every word, every look, every action was wrong. Sometimes I would act out and she would…"

Brienne looked Jaime full in the face and shot out a hand to clasp his. He held her hand tightly, his eyes never leaving her face. "If it was a particularly bad day she would accuse me of acting out in order to upset my father. And as punishment she would drag me down to the bay kicking and screaming and grab my hair, and push my face into the water and hold me under until I stopped struggling."

Until there is nothing left

Jaime gripped her hand tighter and whispered her name as a tear slipped from her eye and followed the rivulets already running down her face and neck. "She could have killed you."

Brienne shrugged. "When I got big enough, she couldn't do it anymore. But by then the damage was done. And my father… I don't think he ever knew. All he knew was that when he hid himself away he had a disobedient daughter and when he showed himself again he had a meek beast he had to try and marry off."

Jaime let out a shuddering breath and gripped her hand tighter.

"He wasn't a cold man, but he was a dutiful man. I have not seen my father in many years," she said, a sad smile crossing her features, "not since before you and I met. The last time he wrote me at Winterfell, and that was before the dragon pit, he told me that he was feeling his age and he wished that I might come home. It was the first time he'd spoken only of seeing me, and not of reminding me of my duty as his heir. I will pray for his peace just as I will pray that Cersei is lying. But most of all, I will hope to make my father proud as his successor, whatever that might mean in this new world. Hope is an important asset. We cannot let her see us without it."

She let go of Jaime's hand to dry both of her cheeks, then caught sight of her reflection in the water. Her face seemed to glow in the firelight, pink and mottled from crying, but glowing. In the shifting water, she couldn't pick out the individual flaws that she had been cursed with, but she saw her eyes and for the first time she could almost imagine when Jaime had meant when he called them - and her - astonishing. She looked up at him, his face lined with worry as he studied her, and she smiled, widening it until he smiled back. "I love you, Jaime."

He opened his palm and she slipped her hand into his, his face beginning to crumble. "I love you, Brienne. I am sorry that this is happening. I'm sorry that I didn't stop her before-"

Brienne shook her head violently and climbed out of her chair, pulling herself toward him and sinking to her knees at his side, taking his face in her hands. "This is not your fault. You are not responsible for her. You do not owe me anything because of her. And you are not her, do you understand me? You are not your sister. You're better than her. Faint praise, maybe, I know," she said, trying the barest levity, "but you're better than her. You always have been. You have to remember that. You have to be strong - for me. For Tyrion. My father may be dead, but there is a chance that your brother still lives. If he does, we will recover him. And if he does not, I need you to remember that your life and your happiness do not hinge on any other person. Not on Tyrion, not on me. You have to live for you. Life is worth living no matter how hard. Swear to me that you will not go running to your death just because of this. Please, Jaime."

His glassy eyes met hers, and for a moment her oceans seemed to churn around him, and he felt buoyed up over the tides, lifted into the air. Life is worth living. He took her hand with his and kissed her knuckles and then pressed his chin to the top of her hand to hold her gaze. "I love you."

"And I love you."

"I live for you. I would die for you if necessary."

"Jaime I know, I would-"

"Nothing will ever change that," he said fiercely. "But I choose life. Our life. No matter what."

"No matter what," she murmured against his chest.

Until it's just your voice in my head

Brienne lifted her face to his and captured his lips. Before he knew it, his tunic was over his head and he was pressing her hips into the rug on the floor. But then when she reached for the ties on his breeches, he pushed himself to his knees and stood, holding out a hand to her. They were indoors and they had a real bed not stuffed with rotting rushes for the first time in their joint history, and he wasn't about to miss the opportunity to use it.

The sun had not yet risen when Brienne donned her robe and quietly left the room in search of her former squire. She found him in the training yard getting in some early exercise. She didn't stay long - just long enough to explain her plan. Pod readily agreed and said that the horses would be ready that night and Brienne reminded him to tell no one. She crept back to their chamber, removed her coat and climbed back in next to her husband.

An hour later, as the sun's first rays crawled across the water, Jaime stood and located his breeches and a long tunic. He closed the door quietly behind him and went in search of Podrick Payne. He found him in the training yard finishing up some early exercise. He didn't stay long, just long enough to ask Pod what he thought of a midnight mission to King's Landing, and to get his thoughts on how to approach the Keep - all things that Pod readily had solutions and suggestions for, leading Jaime to think that Podrick was really coming into his own.

Pod said, somewhat uncertainly, that the horses would be ready that night. He reminded Pod not to tell anyone and then headed back to their chamber. He climbed back into bed just as the first rays of sunshine hit the largest windows overlooking the ocean, highlighting Brienne's handprints from their lovemaking the day before. He rolled toward her and wrapped his arm around her middle, nestling into her shoulder and sank back into sleep.

When they woke up together an hour later they made love and then prepared for the day, neither one aware of the other's plot.

A/N: I do not own Game of Throne or these characters; some dialogue may be taken verbatim from HBO's Game of Thrones or George R. R. Martin's A Song of Ice and Fire. Lyrics used are directly from Halestorm's "Break In" (C) 2012.