Based on events during Episode 4 of GoT Season 8

(Also includes flashback from Episode 2 of GoT Season 3)

The door clasped gently shut, and Brienne's eyelids fluttered open. The brief cold breeze that had seeped in from the corridor outside woke her up from her slumber quickly enough, but it was the empty spot in the space to her right that made her sit upright in bed, suddenly alert. She frowned, confused, as she looked around their room. But he wasn't there.

Scrambling out from under the fur covers, Brienne reached for her bedrobe and flung it on. An uneasy feeling building inside her, she then hurriedly slipped into her boots and left their bedchambers. The corridor was eerily silent, making Brienne shiver, but then again of course, why wouldn't it be? It was the middle of the night, after all.

Perhaps he was hungry and went for some food from the kitchens, Brienne told herself as she hurried down the steps. Or perhaps he just couldn't sleep and fancied a walk…in the cold snow that he detests so much…yes, that'll be it…

She wasn't sure why the first place she thought to look would be the courtyard round the back outside. Perhaps she needed reassurance that her worst fears were not true. But then she saw him there, struggling to saddle his horse, the golden hand twinkling in the moonlight.

It took Brienne a few moments to understand what she was seeing, and then she felt her stomach drop.

No. Please, gods, no.

She slowly walked up to him with a frown, her arms folded, trying to remain calm. She knew he had heard her approach across the yard, she knew he must be able to see her in his peripheral vision, but he seemed intent on concentrating solely on readying his horse and acting as if she weren't there.

This can't be.

She'd thought they would have more time before it came to this.

'They're going to destroy that city,' Brienne said in a low voice, staring at him, and Jaime's heart sank. 'You know they will.'

He had so hoped that it hadn't been her who had followed him out here. This wasn't how it was meant to be. He'd wanted their last memory together to be of the two of them, happy and entwined in their bedchambers. Not this. Never this.

Jaime felt himself begin to panic as Brienne waited for him to respond. He couldn't think. He couldn't come up with the words to say. He wished she would look anywhere else. He couldn't stand the shame of her eyes on him while he prepared to leave.

Brienne was right; the situation was hopeless. It was highly unlikely that Jaime would be able to save Cersei from herself, and yet there still was a chance that she might listen to him, that he would persuade her to see reason, that he could try and negotiate her surrender. He might be able to save the capital, and his sister and their baby's life. Whether he would be able to forgive her for all she had done and all she had made him do, Jaime wasn't sure, but all he knew was that Cersei's day of reckoning must also be his. Even if he did confront her, he would still stand by her side as the monstrous person he had always been, because that was the only way it could be. He deserved no better fate than hers, after all. And as much as he wished it weren't true, Brienne couldn't talk him out of this. No one could.

'Have you ever run away from a fight?' Jaime asked, still refusing to look at her as he focussed on his horse.

The saddle was all he could drill his watery gaze into. He couldn't look anywhere near her, because if he did…he would break from the shame. He couldn't help himself always running back to Cersei…her influence over him was too powerful for him to try and control. Besides, he'd had a hand to play in her rise and becoming power-mad. How could he abandon her to the wolves and dragons now?

Even when he was appealing to her honour as a knight like this, Brienne still couldn't understand. He had spoken to her only this morning of running away, just the two of them, together. This cruel world had broken him, and he wanted to escape it. Brienne would only gladly escape it with him, but she could tell it was too late for that. Even if she didn't understand, she knew he was in this – whatever it was – alone.

Looking back to where he had started, to the man he had been when they'd first met, Brienne knew it was a miracle that he was not only alive, but the man that he was today. He had changed so much. But this was the moment that could change it all back. Perhaps if she pleaded, he would decide to stay after all. Perhaps she would be enough for him. Perhaps they could be enough for him. 'Just the two of us', he had said merely hours ago. He was blinded by the chaos and cruelty of the world, but Brienne was his way out. She knew it, and deep down he knew it too. He just needed to embrace it. He just needed to remember what they had spoken of in the Godswood a few days ago…of all they had imagined for their future together…

Don't give up on me. Please.

But Jaime couldn't hear the wordless pleas that shone through the eyes he'd normally be so content to gaze into. He had closed himself off from her. His back was turned to her, his face deliberately in the other direction as he tried to brace himself for what was to come next.

Exhaling shakily, Brienne then closed the distance between them in a few long strides and, reaching out, she took his face in both her hands and forced him to look at her. The way she grabbed him and turned him away from the horse stunned Jaime deeply as he tried to keep his head bowed low.

No, don't come close to me, don't touch me, he wanted to plead, but his voice caught in his throat.

Didn't she understand? One of the many traits he shared with her was his stubbornness; she couldn't change his mind.

'You're not like your sister,' Brienne said fiercely, still afraid to speak her name, and she forced him to meet her gaze as she brought his head up so they were at equal heights. 'You're not.'

Jaime's wet eyes widened in shock at her statement as he met that beautiful yet heartbreaking sapphire-blue gaze of hers. He couldn't believe what she was saying; he had built his identity around being similar to Cersei, and everyone knew it. Only Brienne was blind to the terrible truth.

Her hair was ruffled and messy, her face torn in anguish, her gaze beseeching. She was dressed in only her bedrobe, cold and vulnerable. He remembered the days when she had been too afraid to ever let anyone see her without her armour on. And now here she was, with no shield to protect her.

'You're better than she is,' Brienne went on urgently, her thumbs brushing against his skin as she cupped his face. 'You're a good man and you can't save her.'

Jaime immediately frowned the moment she called him a good man. That startling phrase was something he wasn't accustomed to hearing. His brow furrowed and his forehead wrinkled as he bent his head low again in shame, unable to look her in the eye. He loved her eyes. Looking at them would only break him even more.

His face filled with frustration and resignation as he let her words resonate with him…her words that shattered him, because he knew them not to be true. He had done a lot of work to try and become a good man, that was true. He'd kept his promise to fight against the dead. He had saved many lives. But nothing could change who he truly was, no matter how hard he tried. He didn't deserve a life with this woman who was so determined to believe in him. He didn't deserve anything, and it was surprising that anyone could think he did, even Brienne. She was the first and only person to ever call him a good man. Not once in his entire lifetime had he been called that. He wished it wasn't too late for him. He wished he could believe her. But the truth was he was already gone.

'You don't need to die with her,' Brienne went on, her voice growing increasingly emotional as Jaime blinked rapidly and met her gaze once more.

Perhaps she was right in some regard; perhaps he didn't need to die with Cersei. But he certainly deserved to. And it troubled him deeply to realise that Brienne could no longer see that.

Brienne had made the same mistake that he had; she had wilfully turned a blind eye to all the bad Jaime had done, all the crimes and sins and cruel deeds of his past…She knew about Bran, she knew about his cousin, she knew about all of it, and she was trying to wash them away, to pretend they had never happened. It shocked him to his core that she was willing to do that. When he had first met Brienne, she could barely tolerate him. She had found his past actions hateful and monstrous, just as she should have done, and yet now she was doing just what he had done, and built up excuses for crimes that she would never have committed had she been in his position.

But Jaime couldn't let her fool herself. He couldn't let their love turn her into someone who tolerated people who did the things he had done. He couldn't let her ruin herself and her values and her sense of morality over him. He had to make Brienne see him for what he really was. He had to make her see that she was better off without him. He had to make her let him go.

Brienne found herself growing even more desperate as she looked into Jaime's empty eyes and realised that her words weren't getting through to him. 'Stay here. Stay with me,' she said in a small voice, her bottom lip trembling as the tears threatened to cascade down her face. 'Please.'

Her voice shook violently on the last word, and Jaime couldn't hold her tear-filled gaze as she continued to hold his face. She was on the verge of breaking, and he could feel his heart shattering into tiny pieces at the pain he was causing her. He knew that she never pleaded, that she never asked for things for herself. She had never begged for anything before, not like this. But she was desperate. She could feel everything crumbling around her, all her happiness suddenly being ripped from her.

He wanted to stay. More than anything. But how could he live with himself if he did?

'Stay,' Brienne whimpered.

Jaime looked down; he couldn't bear to see her tears. He wished he could stop them. He wished he could give her what she wanted. But he couldn't, and he hated himself for it. It was always the way – everything he touched, everything he cared about, broke. Brienne was too pure for him to tarnish, and yet now look at what he had reduced her to. She was utterly distraught, and it was all because of him.

Brienne represented everything Jaime admired; her values as a knight, her morality, her valour, her honour…her ability to see him and love him for who he tried to be, despite all his flaws. But he couldn't accept that, even if she did bring out the best in him. They could have had a life together, the two of them, a wonderful life…but he wasn't as honourable as Brienne, he wasn't worthy of her faith and devotion, and he didn't deserve the life of the good man that Brienne so blindly saw him as. She had come into his life too late. Despite his overwhelming love for her, his loyalty and need to protect Cersei and their unborn child overcame his contempt for the monster his sister had become.

Jaime slowly reached up for Brienne's hand and wrapped it around her wrist, looking more beaten and lost than ever as he stared solemnly down at the ground, still unable to meet her gaze. His lips parted as his thumb slowly caressed her hand but then the words he longed to say got caught in his throat.

He had tried to warn her of the consequences of loving him, of them being together…not that he had ever expected it to come to this. He'd never thought that he could be so cruel, and yet here they were. It was the hardest thing in the world, for Jaime to bring himself to say what he knew needed to be said. It hurt him more than he could ever have anticipated, but what choice did he have? Brienne was already suffering, and even though he so desperately wanted to hold onto her, he couldn't. He needed her to let him go, but she wouldn't. And he was left with no alternative.

Jaime slowly began to nod heavily to himself as he realised what he had to do, though it killed him to do it. He had to ensure that she wouldn't follow him. He had to keep her away from the danger of King's Landing…and Cersei.

He had to break her heart.

'You think I'm a good man?' Jaime said in a low, almost bitter, voice, as he finally forced himself to look at her, cold determination in his eyes.

He reluctantly moved her right hand away from his cheek, and he felt sick to the stomach as he did it and watched her face slowly fall. They stared at each other for a moment, both of them terrified of what he might say, and Brienne's other hand slowly slipped from his face as she saw the pain in his eyes.

'I pushed a boy out a tower window, crippled him for life…for Cersei,' he whispered, his face filled with self-hatred.

His words were like a punch to the gut. Brienne could barely take them in.

'I strangled my cousin with my own hands,' Jaime went on, his voice tremoring with rage and sadness, 'just to get back to Cersei.'

Brienne didn't know what he was saying. Was he trying to be gallant and protect her somehow? Was he frightened of the recent change in his life, of his commitment to her? Was he frightened of Cersei? Or was he so in love with Cersei that he couldn't overlook her anymore?

She wasn't a fool. She knew how intimate Jaime's relationship with Cersei had been, how much it had meant to him. As dysfunctional as their bond had been, perhaps this had always been inevitable. But Brienne had seized that moment for them, that night after the feast – a rare moment of optimism in their lives, which had led to something pure and wonderful. A promise of a happy future together. And now he was shattering those hopes for them both right before her eyes.

Jaime exhaled shakily as he tried not to succumb to his tears; Brienne's face was torn in anguish, and it was agony for him to see her in such distress. But still, he continued.

'I would have murdered every man, woman and child in Riverrun…for Cersei,' he said, his voice shaking in bitterness and self-loathing.

Yes. But you didn't. for me.

Brienne inhaled a deep shuddering breath as she tried to maintain her composure. Cersei. Cersei. Cersei. It was all she could hear, just that single word that told her he was already lost, and she felt it like a knife to the heart. Any hope she'd had left died in her tear-filled eyes.

She'd thought being rejected by the man she loved, the man she had opened herself up to, would have been bad enough…but she was also watching him give in to his immutable self-hatred and accepting himself for a monster who he no longer was, and he was going to get himself killed because of it. She had failed to protect Renly, and then Lady Catelyn…and now Jaime too. She couldn't save him. And it destroyed her.

Jaime knew she was fighting back an onslaught of tears, just as he was. He was being cruel to be kind; a part of him hoped she would understand this, and yet from her torturous expression he could see that she didn't. It only made this even more distressing for him, and yet he knew he deserved it. It was Brienne who didn't deserve any of this…Brienne whose life and heart he had ruined. He had never despised himself more as he took in the pain on her face and realised just how he had ripped her trust to pieces after finally allowing herself to be vulnerable and close to him. He was destroying everything. But it was the only way to ensure that she wouldn't mourn for him if he did indeed perish; she needed to realise how the words he spoke were true. He needed her to loathe him just as much as he loathed himself.

His tear-filled eyes and anguished expression told Brienne that he didn't want to be doing this. Jaime didn't want to leave. It was breaking him too. But they also told her something else: that his mind was set. She was losing him, and she couldn't stop it.

Jaime leaned forward, as if to kiss her for a last time, but then thought better of it and remained a safe distance, his face torn in anguish. He felt dizzy, as if he might collapse, as if he might completely break before her. He couldn't let her see that. So many words poured through his mind as he thought of what else he could say to her before he left… 'I'm so sorry' … 'Thank you for the best time of my life' … 'Goodbye, my love'…

But he couldn't do it. He couldn't risk her following. He had to destroy them both even further. It was the only way to keep her safe.

Jaime's face then fell, his expression cold and distant. 'She's hateful,' he said, his voice breaking. 'And so am I.'

Brienne's lips trembled violently as the world came crashing down around her. He might as well have spat in her face. He might as well have said, 'I don't love you anymore'. Because that was how it felt.

He could see from the way her face crumbled that he had done it; he had finally pushed her to breaking point. She was distraught. She knew more so than anyone that Jaime was so much more than his worst mistakes, but he couldn't see that. He was leaving to his death, wrongly believing that he was a monster, and there was nothing she could do to save him.

Jaime turned away, back to his horse, and the instant he did an almost animalistic sob tore from Brienne's throat as she burst into tears.

The sound almost broke Jaime but he still climbed up onto his horse, fighting his instinct to take her in his arms and comfort her. He couldn't bear to leave her like this, sobbing in her bedrobe in the middle of a muddy courtyard, without being able to tell her the things he longed to say, but there was no other way. He hoped the harsh brutality of his words would keep her here, in the North. Otherwise he had put her through this agony for nothing.

Brienne hadn't realised until now that heartbreak was a physical pain. Yes, she had grieved for Renly after he had died in her arms, but her feelings for Renly had been almost trivial compared to this. Renly had never made her think he loved her back, unlike Jaime. But now, standing here as Jaime mounted his horse and didn't even look back to her, she found she couldn't breathe. She had taken such a risk for herself in being with him. It had been the first time she had ever chosen an experience purely for her own happiness. She had left herself raw and open to him, and he had hurt her brutally, in the worst way possible, worse than a thousand fatal wounds from an army of dead men in the battlefield. Their whole relationship, everything they had built together over these years, was being ripped apart. It was crumbling before her, like it had never meant anything to him. And even worse, Jaime was going to die thinking that he was still the evil, heartless villain he had once been rather than the good person she had seen him become.

Her breathing was shaky and uncontrollable as she continued to sob, deflated and unable to watch him leave. She crumbled, hating her own naivety that Jaime himself had warned her about, and kept her head bent low as she continued to weep, leaving her empty inside as the horse neighed and galloped across the yard towards the open gates.

Tears rolling down his face, Jaime rode away from the castle grounds that had become his home and from her life, leaving a broken Brienne behind him in the full knowledge that he had ruined the very best thing that had ever happened to him. He knew that the sound of Brienne's heart-wrenching sobs echoing through the courtyard would haunt him for what little remained of his tragic life.

It was exhausting and overwhelmingly frustrating, traipsing about the woods and fields with such a boring, grumpy captor. Brienne of Tarth was an endless challenge to Jaime, and even after their exciting interlude with those three Northern men whom Brienne had defeated so spectacularly, nothing much had changed in the days that had passed since then to make her any less infuriating. All she did was glare at him with disdain and disapproval, and occasionally snap back the odd brutal retort to put him in his place, but other than that she gave him absolutely nothing to go on, and it was driving Jaime mad. No matter how many times he tried to lash out at her, no matter how he many times he tried to demoralize and disable her, or mock her for her looks…she never let it get to her.

Or at least, not on the surface.

In truth, as they carried on with their journey through the Riverlands towards King's Landing and reluctantly got to know each other more, Brienne did feel rather stung by his relentless insults. She had hoped that after her defeat of those three Northern men, he would act more respectful towards her. But if anything, her actions that day had only encouraged him further to tease her, as if it had increased his urge to pry out more information about her, to get her to respond the way she had that day, to make his life exciting again.

Still, she never broke her reserve. She never revealed how she was truly feeling. After all, she had learnt to ignore the nasty comments ever since she had been a young girl. Her father had always taught her to conceal her pain, to not show the bullies that they'd gotten to her. Sometimes Brienne wished he hadn't ingrained that so ferociously within her during her upbringing though. She knew he'd meant well and had only been trying to protect her and toughen her up to be the strong woman she was today, but sometimes she wondered whether she was capable of showing any emotion at all, good or bad.

'You know, we could catch a chill if we keep trying to sleep outside like this,' Jaime said one night, bound to a nearby tree while Brienne put some more wood on the fire in the small secluded area of the forest they'd made camp in. 'We should huddle together for warmth.'

Brienne slowly looked up from the fire and glared at him; he was smirking amusedly at her. 'Never in a million years, Kingslayer,' she growled, sitting down on the ground.

Jaime chuckled. 'I would never want to either, don't you worry. Why do you sleep in your armour, anyway?' she asked, frowning at her. 'It can't be comfortable.'

Brienne ignored him. It irritated her how he kept commenting about that. He'd even once offered to help her take her armour off for her one evening when they'd made camp, but she had refused rather rudely, and he hadn't offered since then. No, it wasn't comfortable, but she would hardly have gotten any sleep anyway because she didn't trust him, and she had to keep watch in case of any passers-by. Besides, she couldn't be without her armour. She was nothing without it. That, at least, was something Jaime could relate to.

'Is it so you can keep pretending to be a knight? Is that what you dream of?' he said mockingly, and he let out a scornful laughter. 'Brienne of Tarth, a woman knight of the Seven Kingdoms?'

'I don't dream of anything,' Brienne lied as she stared determinedly away from him and into the flames.

'Everyone dreams of something,' Jaime said, raising his eyebrows sceptically.

'I'm not everyone.'

Jaime exhaled deeply. 'No. You're not, are you?' he said thoughtfully.

He couldn't figure her out at all. It infuriated him greatly. She was so obsessed with honour and oaths and loyalty. She was everything he had idealised in a knight, everything Jaime had so wanted to be when he was younger. He resented her for it…and yet for some reason a part of him wanted to seek her approval, and he had no idea why.

'Are you ever going to sleep?' Jaime asked, as he leaned his head back against the tree trunk, trying to get as comfortable as possible.

'Are you ever going to give up on trying to escape?' Brienne retorted.

Jaime smiled. 'That would be telling.'

Brienne shook her head at him, exasperated. 'You're a bloody nuisance, you know.'

'The feeling is mutual,' Jaime assured her.

'Well it should just be a few more weeks and then once we're back at King's Landing, we'll never have to see each other again,' Brienne said, relieved at the very thought.

Jaime tilted his head mockingly at her. 'Are you sure you won't want to stay with me?' he said jokingly, chuckling, and Brienne glared at him.

'You're the last person I'd ever want to stay around,' Brienne said, her tone and expression full of contempt.

'How touching,' Jaime said, smirking, and he sighed as he moved against the ropes binding him to the tree. 'Well, I think I'm going to try and get some sleep, if I'm not kept awake by anticipation of tomorrow's exciting adventure through yet more woods. You ought to do the same if you had any wits about you.'

But Brienne didn't sleep. She tried as she lay on the grass in her bulky armour and watched the flames of the campfire slowly die, but she was too alert to slip out of consciousness, no matter how tired she was. Instead she kept her eyes on Jaime's sleeping figure and the trees surrounding them, ready for the slightest bit of movement. Luckily, they were not disturbed, and the moment the sun began to rise, Brienne rose to her feet and woke Jaime so they could eat their breakfast from the remaining food she had hunted yesterday evening.

'Come on, we need to get going,' Brienne muttered once they had finished eating, forcing Jaime up to his feet and securing his restraints as she reattached him to the rope in her hands.

'Wait,' Jaime murmured.

She followed his gaze to see that he was looking in amazement at the view of the pink sky before them, and the rising silhouette of the sun behind the canopy of trees that lay far ahead.

'Haven't you ever seen a sunrise before?' Brienne asked impatiently.

'Only in a city that smells of shit and peasants. This is something else,' Jaime said, his voice dazed.

A slight smile fell on his face, and for a second as she looked at him, Brienne saw, not the Kingslayer, but a pure man simply enjoying the beauty of nature. But then the moment was gone as quickly as it had come, and, coming back to her senses, Brienne shoved Jaime forward. With a grunt, Jaime reluctantly tore his eyes away from the stunning sunrise and led on.

They walked for a few hours, and for a time it was almost peaceful; Jaime was unusually silent, as he was intrigued to see how long Brienne would be able to go on for without speaking. Despite the clouds forming in the sky, it was a relatively pleasant day, with the leaves swaying gently in the breeze and the birds chirping. Of course, the relaxing atmosphere was too good to last.

As Jaime scrambled through a large bush onto yet another open field, he finally broke reserve; Brienne's stubborn refusal to talk was getting unbearable.

'Do you know how long it's going to take us to get to King's Landing walking through fields and forests?' he asked, turning back to face Brienne; he watched amusedly as she struggled to get through the tangle of bushes.

'Yes,' she replied gruffly, finally managing to clamber through onto the field as she kept a firm hold on his rope.

'So how shall we pass the time?' Jaime asked slyly.

'By putting one foot in front of the other,' Brienne replied firmly, unimpressed with his fake attempts at flirtation.

Jaime groaned as he watched a herd of sheep hurry past them. 'It's going to be a very dull walk.'

'I'm here to take you to King's Landing and bring back Lady Stark's daughters in exchange. Dull is fine,' Brienne said, looking around the field to check that there was no one nearby.

'You know, it doesn't matter how loyal a servant you are,' Jaime said, turning back to face her; Brienne shoved him away from her, 'no one enjoys the company of a humourless mute. Trust me on this; people have been serving me since I was born. You think Lady Stark is going to want a…a giant towheaded plank following her around for the rest of her life? A week's journey with you and she'll order you to fall on your sword.'

Brienne raised her eyebrows. 'Giant towheaded plank'. Well that's a new one.

They veered off the field and began to head down a hill, towards a cluster of trees. Jaime was so sick of woodland. He yearned for the familiar tall buildings and gates of King's Landing, and yet it would be weeks – more likely months – until they arrived there.

'If Lady Stark is unhappy with any aspect of my service, I'm sure she'll let me know,' Brienne said with a frown as they walked on into the forest. 'She's an honest woman.'

'For all the good it's done her,' Jaime said sarcastically. 'Can we stop? I have to piss.'

'Must you?' Brienne asked with a groan, and Jaime tilted his head at her.

'Well unless you'd rather I pissed myself?'

They stopped near a tree and while Jaime did his business, Brienne looked away disdainfully and kept watch. She was constantly on edge about anyone coming across them. She didn't want a repeat of what had happened with those three Northern men. It would do them no good to leave a trail of bodies behind them.

'How did you come into Lady Stark's service?' Jaime asked, interested. 'There's something we can talk about.'

'Not your concern, Kingslayer.'

'It had to be recently. You weren't with her at Winterfell,' Jaime said, as he finished off and turned around to face her.

Brienne scoffed. 'How would you know?'

'Because I visited Winterfell. I would have noticed your dour head smacking into the archways,' Jaime said, struggling to tie up his breeches; the manacles around his wrists didn't really help speed things up.

Brienne ignored him and gave his rope a yank. 'Move.'

'Were you pledged to Stannis?' Jaime asked as they walked on down the woodland path.

'Gods, no,' Brienne replied in disgust.

'Ah, Renly,' Jaime said, and then he frowned. 'Really? He wasn't fit to rule over anything more important than a 12-course meal.'

'Shut your mouth,' Brienne said defensively.

'Why? I lived with him at court since he was a boy, don't forget. Could hardly escape the little tulip…skipping down the corridors in his embroidered silks. I knew him far better than you,' Jaime said, almost smugly.

Brienne felt a pang of jealousy at the mere notion. 'I knew him as well as anyone. As a member of his Kingsguard, he trusted me with everything,' she said fiercely, as Jaime turned to face her sceptically. 'He would have been a wonderful king.'

'Sounds like you quite fancied him,' Jaime muttered teasingly, a smirk on his face.

'I did not fancy him,' Brienne said sternly, avoiding his eye contact as he turned back around to face her.

Jaime's face lit up in amusement. 'Oh, gods, you did!' he said, delighted and bemused; he would never have thought this woman had the capacity to develop such feelings for anyone. 'Did you ever tell him? No, of course not.'

Brienne kept her eyes firmly on the path ahead of them as Jaime turned back to grin at her. She was infuriated, more so with herself than with Jaime. Of course he had every right to tease her for the ridiculousness of it all; Brienne of Tarth, in love with a man who had never seen her as anything more than the ugly woman pledged to his service. She'd thought she was better at hiding it – after all, Renly had never suspected – so how was it that the Kingslayer could deduce it so easily? She'd tried not talking to him or letting her expression betray her thoughts over these past few weeks, but Jaime had apparently learnt to read her better than she had anticipated.

'You weren't Renly's type, I'm afraid,' Jaime said, laughing, as Brienne shoved him roughly forwards, urgent to keep him moving. 'He preferred, err, curly-haired little girls like Loras Tyrell. You're far too much man for him.'

Brienne scowled at him in disgust. 'I'm not interested in foul rumours,' she said dismissively.

'Unless they're about me,' Jaime pointed out indignantly, and for the briefest moment Brienne felt almost ashamed.

Sometimes Jaime wished he could clarify those rumours to Brienne. But he had never spoken about such matters to anymore, because he simply hadn't cared what others thought. And yet he couldn't help but be moved by this stupid woman's unflinching faith in knightly values. It was becoming more difficult for him as time went on to dismiss her accusations whenever she chastised him for his broken vows and monstrosity. He wondered if she would ever see him as anything more than that, or if she would only ever look upon him and see the sins of his past, as most people did. The thought hit a nerve with Jaime as they traipsed on through the trees.

'It's all true about Renly,' Jaime went on. 'His proclivities were the worst kept secret at court.'

Brienne's nostrils flared as she stomped on, her fury steadily building.

'It's a shame the throne isn't made out of cocks,' Jaime said amusedly, 'they'd have never got him off it-!'

Enraged, Brienne seized him by his hair and cloak and yanked him roughly towards her, making him groan in pain. 'Shut your mouth!' she growled at him furiously.

They stared at each other for a few moments in tense silence. Their faces were close enough to touch, but their proximity didn't seem to bother Brienne – she was trying to concentrate on her deep breathing, but it was hard to calm down when the obscene man inches from her was gazing back at her so intensely, his lips parted in shock. To his amusement, Jaime realised that if anyone were to walk past and see them now, they would look like they were about to kiss. It hit him then just how strange it was that this was the first time that he had ever spent a considerable amount of time – intimate time, even – alone with another woman. But Jaime didn't have time to ponder this; the look on Brienne's face – her scowl, the burning hatred in her eyes, the way her jaw was set – almost scared him. He had said many things to her since they had been thrown into each other's company the other week, cruel and nasty things, but none that had offended her quite as much as this.

Suddenly feeling ashamed for some reason, Jaime then raised his eyebrows at Brienne as she held his head close to hers. 'I don't blame him. And I don't blame you, either,' he said softly. 'We don't get to choose who we love.'

Brienne gazed back at him, inexplicably moved by his words, but before she could think of what to say or do next, she heard the neigh of a horse approaching. Jaime glanced to the side and Brienne released her hold of him, flustered, as she realised what the two of them must have looked like to an outsider. Panic began to set in as Brienne stood in front of Jaime to address the old man who was walking past, leading his horse behind him.

I let my guard down. I let Jaime get to me, and now we've been seen.

The old man came to a halt as he peered at them both curiously. 'Where are you headed, then?' he asked.

'South,' Jaime replied from behind Brienne. 'You?'

'Riverrun. Staying off the kingsroad, are you?' the old man said knowingly, and Jaime and Brienne both tensed. 'They get you no matter where you go. You can't win.'

'No, you really can't,' Jaime replied.

'Looks like you're safe enough, though,' the old man pointed out, indicating Brienne. 'Meaning no offense, milady, but' – he broke off to laugh – 'I wouldn't tangle with you.'

Jaime forced a hearty laugh that sounded so unconvincing, it made Brienne want to kick him. Instead, she forced a soft laugh as well.

'Seven blessings to you,' the old man then said, as he turned to carry on down the path.

'And you,' Brienne said, as she and Jaime both nodded politely at him, false smiles on both their faces.

Her smile faded the moment the old man turned away, and she and Jaime watched nervously as he walked away with his horse, turning back to give them one last suspicious glance.

'He knows who I am,' Jaime murmured in Brienne's ear.

'He doesn't,' Brienne said firmly, unable to keep her eyes off the retreating man.

'Maybe you're right, but what if you're not?' Jaime asked urgently. 'What if he tells someone?'

There was a silence as Brienne continued to watch the old man leave, knowing exactly what was going through Jaime's mind.

'We're not doing it,' Brienne said, her jaw set, and Jaime barely refrained from rolling his eyes exasperatedly. 'He's an innocent man.'

'More innocent than Lady Stark's daughters?' Jaime asked, and Brienne hesitated.

She resented him for knowing how best to challenge her now, but she wouldn't change her mind. Turning Jaime around, she then pushed him forward and they continued on their journey.

'You're making a mistake,' Jaime said warningly as they walked on.

Brienne merely gave him another shove in the back. 'Where's the honour in killing someone innocent?' she asked.

Jaime turned back to stare at her, speechless for a moment, then groaned. 'Seven hells. You're just too good to be true, aren't you?' he said exasperatedly. 'You're more naïve than anyone I've ever met.'

'Excuse me?' Brienne snapped, raising her eyebrows, as they came to a halt.

'One day you'll learn the hard way that true honour, the kind of honour you imagine, doesn't exist in the real world,' Jaime said, frowning almost sympathetically at her. 'People who claim to be innocent, people you're sworn to protect, people you love – well, that is, if Renly wasn't a fluke and you ever come to know what it's like to properly feel any real emotion towards a human being – they'll all turn out to be traitors in the end. That's just the way the world works. It's cruel and unfair, but that's how it is. You'll see, in time.'

Brienne's nostrils were flaring like never before as she breathed deeply and glared down at him. 'Is that what you've learnt, Kingslayer?' she asked.

There was a short silence as Jaime turned away from her and began to trudge onwards down the woodland path. 'More times than I can count,' he eventually replied, his tone heavy. 'At least I'm giving you warning.'

Neither of them said anything for a while as they marched on through the woods, Brienne keeping an eye out for any more passers-by. She had let Jaime's snide comment about Renly get the better of her, and then she had let their proximity and his rare softness towards her distract her from being watchful and alert. She would not make that mistake again. She hoped she had made the right decision in not going after that old man who had come across them. The sooner they moved away from these woods, the better.

She felt a lump rise in her throat as she thought over Jaime's words.

'-Well, that is, if Renly wasn't a fluke and you ever come to know what it's like to properly feel any real emotion towards a human being-…'

That comment bothered Brienne more than all the insults in the world that could be thrown at her. She wondered if he was right in his assumption that she would never be able to love anyone properly. Love was something Brienne had longed to experience, especially so with Renly, but never had and most likely never would. She hated to admit it to herself, but she was even somewhat envious of the love Jaime knew, wrong and obscene though it was. At least he knew how it felt. At least he had felt that warmth in his heart, that feeling deep in his soul, a feeling that had made him whole as a person. Lovers really were the luckiest people.

But Brienne was used to not being one of the lucky ones. And perhaps it was for the best; all she had known was to live on without giving in to emotions. Caring for others only made you weak, after all. Her feelings had got the better of her with Renly, but that would not happen again. She was sure of that.

'We don't get to choose who we love,' Jaime had said.

Brienne was certain that she would be able to choose, though. She wasn't like most people. She wouldn't let herself feel or love again, like she had loved Renly. It wasn't worth the pain. After all, if you loved someone, it only meant you had someone to lose.

~ Present Day ~

The morning dawned frostier than usual when Podrick rose from his bed. He felt slightly nauseous as he peered out of the window. It was hailing quite harshly outside in the courtyard, the hailstones turning to ice as they smashed onto the ground. He dressed slowly, anything to put off what he knew was about to come. Today was going to be a hard day.

Pod headed first into the great hall when he went downstairs, but she wasn't there. He didn't know why he'd expected to see her there for breakfast as usual; after all, it wasn't like everything was normal. Lady Sansa caught his eye from the top table and waved with a smile, beckoning him over. Pod merely waved and shook his head apologetically before retreating. Deciding to brave the hail outside, he then hurried outside and across the courtyard, covering his cloak over his head, to check the stables…only to see that Jaime's horse was no longer there. His heart sank.

He really did it.

Dismayed, Pod turned away from the stables and looked out at the small chunks of ice hurling themselves at the ground. He exhaled shakily. He couldn't remember ever feeling so guilty or saddened in his life. A heavy feeling in the pit of his stomach, Pod then hurried back inside the castle and walked upstairs.

His pace grew slower as he neared to their bedchambers, and he felt a lump rise to his throat. The door was slightly ajar; he knocked quietly, but there was no answer. Closing his eyes and taking a deep breath, Pod then slowly pushed the door open.

Brienne was sat on a chair at the foot of the bed with Widow's Wail across her lap. She was staring at the empty hearth, seeing nothing, with her hands clutched around the sword like her life might depend on it. She looked like she hadn't slept at all. She looked like she had no tears left to cry. She looked past devastated; she looked completely empty inside.

Swallowing, Pod slowly walked over to her, though she probably wouldn't have noticed if an army had come charging into the room threatening to cut her to pieces. Fighting furiously against the tears that threatened to build in his eyes, Pod knelt down and put his hand over hers, clutching the handle of Widow's Wail. Brienne tensed briefly at his touch, but then quickly relaxed as they both held onto Jaime's sword.

Brienne slowly looked up at him; the moment their eyes met, Pod felt his heart break. They gazed at each other wordlessly, neither of them knowing what to say, neither of them quite able to express what they were feeling. And then, finally, Brienne spoke.

'He's gone.'