There is something strange about solitude. It can be cleansing, in that it makes one face one's self in a way that little else does.
It can also make one mad. It can cause a person to doubt who they are, who they were, and what they know.
Jaime went through several iterations of both of these things, even though he had Tyrion visit him, and Brienne, and even Sandor and Arya a couple of times. They came together, and worked on Sandor's reading.
And when the time arrived for him to leave his cell, he wasn't relieved so much as he was nervous. The guardsman brought him to the room he was to be staying in, and he even bowed. Jaime nodded and went inside.
It was sparse, but that suited him fine. He walked over to the small window and looked outside. There was snow, but not so much…not as much as he was expecting, at any rate. Perhaps the death of the Night King really would usher in an early spring.
Jaime went to the bed and pulled his boots off. He had been wearing them for the better part of a month. He laid back, the bed feeling so comfortable he thought that he might cry. And he drifted off, falling into a dreamless sleep
He first heard a person breathing…and he opened his eyes. There was Brienne, sitting by the window, looking out. "Hello," he said. She looked at him and nodded. "Sleep well?"
Jaime sat up. "I did. Remarkably so."
"Good. Well, you're out of your cell, at any rate," and she stood.
"Where are you going?"
"To get you food. You'll need to eat something more than what you were being fed."
"Brienne," he held out his hand. "Sit, please."
She appeared to be nervous. She fidgeted a bit, then wiped her hands on her pants, and sat on the edge of the bed, close to the foot. She smiled very slightly.
"I'm to stay in here, mostly."
"Yes."
"I still want to do the thing I had wanted to do for Arya, but this complicates things…" he glanced out of the window. "So, I was wondering, if you might help."
Brienne shifted. "Of course," but her manner was stilted.
"What is it?" Jaime asked with a small smirk
"Arya. You spoke of Arya…I was hoping that…" she swallowed. "Doesn't matter."
"That I would have spoken of us?"
She looked at him. "When put that way, I sound like a simpering child."
He laughed. "I thought it was implied. Since I will be quite lonesome, not being allowed to leave much, you would come to visit often."
"You are insufferable," she said with a smile.
He smiled at her. "Were you planning on getting food?"
She sighed, then nodded.
"Will you bring back some for us both, and some wine, perhaps? We can dine in here."
She looked at him, ashen faced. "All right."
"Good," he smiled.
They dined on stewed meats and root vegetables. It was delicious, considering what he had been eating and the time of year. They sat by his very small hearth afterwards. Jaime had bathed after almost two months…it was glorious, albeit a bit spartan. No attendants. Just someone to fill it.
He sipped wine and thought that his lot could have been much worse. He owed so much to the Stark family…he doubted that he would ever be able to truly repay them for all they'd done. "How are things with our hosts?" He asked.
"Fine enough. The roof has been fully repaired. Lady Stark and King Snow appear to be happy together," she smiled slightly.
"Well, it's about time," he sipped. "How's Pod?
"Good. He's coming along well."
"Will he stay in Winterfell?"
"I'm not certain."
"Will you stay, m'lady?"
Brienne canted her head. "What do you mean?"
"I doubt that I can stay here. Lady Stark said as much. So I'm asking you, will you stay here when I leave?"
"Are you asking me to join you?"
"Perhaps I am," he leaned forward. "But I'll understand if you would like to stay."
"Might I have some time to think about it?"
"Of course. It's doubtful, even with the Night King gone, that spring will come any time soon," and he fell to his knees in front of her. He ran his hands up her legs and leaned toward her face.
She hesitated a touch, but then tilted her head down as he claimed her mouth. It was not urgent, but it was deep.
And Jaime felt himself stir, and it was like coming home. He was moved, it was desperate, for it had been many long weeks, no, months, since he had felt her thus. He took his left hand and cupped the back of her head, pulling her slightly closer. She moaned a touch, and that compelled him to pull her to the floor…
…and though it was cold, and the stone was rough, they made love on the floor. A sense of relief and sincere blessing blanketed over the pair. She nuzzled his neck. "Is it wrong that I'm so happy?"
"How could that possibly be wrong?" He kissed the top of her head.
She smiled to herself. He was right.
And so, the course of the winter went on without much happening. Sandor and Arya would visit Jaime and practice reading, Brienne would visit to copulate and eat dinner with him, and he lived a somewhat happy life. He would walk around the castle every once in a while. Arya and Sandor spoke about leaving Winterfell, though Sandor spoke of it with more conviction. When this would happen, Jaime said very little. I
It was a day when the sun was in the sky noticeably longer than it had been. The air felt balmy and not frigid. It was a promise of spring that whispered itself on the heavy air.
Jaime felt some discontent at this. He knew that he would need to leave Winterfell, and he was loathe to do so. Tyrion had been to the capital with a convoy and came back not having spoken to him about the trip. Jaime wondered about it, as Tyrion had been back for a few days now, but decided that he had other, more pressing concerns.
He knew that he would be leaving…his family would be splintering. Much of this was his own doing, but he rather thought The loss he felt was acute. He hoped that Brienne would decide to come with him, but he couldn't be certain. Especially since he had no idea where he was actually going. Sansa had banished him to Casterly Rock, but she had no jurisdiction over the southern lands, so it ultimately meant nothing that that was her decision.
Eventually, Jaime decided to ask permission to leave for a walk with Arya over the lands of Winterfell. The request was granted, and they set out on a white, cold morning. Sandor stayed behind, though he had been asked if he wanted to go.
They spent the first mile or so in silence. But then, "What do you think Sandor will do once Spring arrives?" Jaime asked.
"I'm not sure. Probably head south. Maybe to Essos….?"
"You were in Essos. Would he like it there?"
"I don't expect he'd like it anywhere."
He chuckled.
"What will you do?" She looked at him, and then smiled a touch. "Stay here until Jon and Sansa are married. And then, who knows?"
"They're getting married?"
"Well, it appears to me that they are. Nothing has been said."/
He nodded, and took a deep breath. "Arya, I wanted to tell you how sorry I am."
"You already did."
"No, I mean, I know that I did, but I mean to explain it further. I hurt your family. And I suppose that I just never cared about hurting people who weren't in my family. But since I've come to love you, and Sandor, I realized what I have done, what I've truly done. And it's reprehensible."
She wasn't looking at him. She walked along, staring at the ground as he spoke. "Well, yes."
Nothing more was said. He didn't suppose that she would ever forgive him, not really. But she didn't hate him, and that was enough.
They went along in that attitude for a bit longer, when they reached a glen. "Let's stop here," he said.
Arya looked around. She shrugged, and sat, pulling out a flask. "I don't usually drink, but it's pretty fucking cold," she smiled, and handed it to Jaime after she sipped. He sat next to her, and pulled out what appeared to be a horn. A smallish one, which curved slightly.
"What's that?" She asked.
"Sandor made it, but he wasn't sure of it."
Arya appeared to be confused. Jaime lifted it to his mouth, and blew. Out bellowed a low, rumbling sound. Not a battle cry, but a summoning call. He waited, then blew again.
"What are you doing?" Arya was incredulous.
"Wait…" he whispered. "Do you hear it?"
She stopped, then looked out into the forest just beyond. She stood…it couldn't be…Through the dark, the thickness of the trees, Arya saw three pairs of eyes. "Nymeria," she breathed. Three wolves, one gigantic one, came toward her. They were walking slowly, but with a friendly stance.
Jaime stood and pulled some scraps from his pockets, throwing them to the beasts.
Arya turned toward him. "How did this happen?"
"Well, Brienne and Sandor helped, but we called for the wolves at night, and then trained them with this horn," he handed it to her. "You never had a proper relationship with her, as you once told me. Just like I never had a proper relationship with my family. You gave me a second chance, and now here's yours. She'll answer the horn, but I don't think she wants to return to Winterfell. We tried."
Arya turned back to the dire wolf. "I wouldn't want her to," she hugged Nymeria. "I've missed you," she breathed.
He smiled at his sister, whom he loved so very much. He had done this small thing, and it meant something to her. He had made her smile. "I'll be leaving," he breathed.
She turned toward him. "Soon?"
"Well, as soon as it's safe to travel."
"Where?" Arya stepped away from Nymeria.
"Since Casterly Rock is unlikely, I haven't spoken with Tyrion so I can't be sure, probably Essos," he shrugged.
She nodded. "Sandor will go with you."
"Do you think so?"
"Why wouldn't he? He's not doing anything else," she laughed, then sipped more from the flask.
"What will you do, Arya?"
She looked out into the great expanse of Winterfell. "I'm not sure."
"What about Storm's End?" He smirked.
"Shut up," she laughed. "Gendry is not someone I'm interested in, save his skills as a smith."
"I'd keep it open as a possibility, if I were you."
There was a knock at his door, and Jaime thought it was odd since it was rather late. "Come in," he said, thinking perhaps it was Brienne
It was Tyrion.
"Well, if it isn't the long lost little brother," said Jaime, sardonically.
Tyrion smiled, then sat down at the hearth. "So, Brienne has been to visit," he poured himself and Jaime wine, then sipped.
"She has."
"That's going well, then?"
Jaime's brow furrowed a touch. "Well, yes. I suppose it is."
"Good."
"How are things with you?"
"Interesting, I think. I've recently returned from the capital. The Queen will not take my head, since she is very pleased with how her rule is going so far. She has a fierce dragon, she has people working on rebuilding King's Landing, she has food from High Garden coming into the city. The winter is not nearly as brutal as once believed it would be, and she is being received without hostility for the most part," he smiled.
"And the North?"
"The Queen has accepted the North's independence conditional on an annual meeting at the capital. This is, of course, to ensure the protection promised by King Snow, to discuss economic concerns, and to reiterate some semblance of control of the situation, as far as Daenerys is concerned."
Jaime nodded and smiled. "Well, it's all worked out rather nicely."
"It has, yes."
"And will there be a royal wedding in the Northern Kingdom?"
Tyrion smiled. "Lady Stark and King Snow are planning it for the end of winter. Likely in a few more months."
"A few more months…Jaime sighed a touch. "What of my banishment to Casterly Rock?"
Tyrion sighed, then drank the whole of the cup. "Daenerys stated that she is letting the Rock out. Since the Lannister's have no family, save us, and we are not friendly to the Crown, she has taken it over."
"Who's there now?" He was incredulous.
"Grey Worm and Missandei."
aime's eyes went wide…"Well, that is something. I suppose that's her right as Queen…" he swallowed. "Never liked the place much."
"No. But, what will you do?"
"Not sure…what will you do, little brother? I had thought that we could retire there together…"
Tyrion laughed. "Lady Sansa has mentioned the Dreadfort, since it is abandoned, as a possibility for me. However, I am but one, rather small person. It seems too much."
He nodded. "So, she is still sending me away?"
"She is," he said softly. "Though I do not think that you will forever be unwelcome, should you want to return."/
Jaime looked out of the window. "You could come with me, Tyrion. And Brienne. Possibly Sandor…"
"Where are you going?"
"I'm not sure yet, but I can let you know…"
Tyrion scoffed. "I don't do well traveling, Jaime."
"We have time. What else are you doing?
"Well, I am advising our royal couple, and I rather thought that I'd stay on in that capacity."
Jaime shook his head. "I can't say that I'm surprised. So, you're angling to stay here at Winterfell?"
"No, but close. Just not as large a place as the Dreadfort. I'd like a simple life," he winked at Jaime.
And Jaime laughed.
This all made sense, and though he was disappointed that Tyrion wouldn't go with him, it wasn't altogether shocking that he had decided to stay. Tyrion would not want to go into an unknown situation, not without some assurances, and Jaime could make none. He only hoped that he would not be abandoning a chance of ever seeing his brother again…Tyrion represented to him a life long gone, but also a tender part of him. He was always, save his honor, the best part of what Jaime loved about himself. Loyalty. And loyalty to his family was what most people saw as his greatest fault, but Jaime saw it as an advantage. Ridiculed though he was for it, he did love his family. br
And his family looked nothing like it did only a year ago.
Sandor was sitting, running his finger over a line of text, and Jaime was sitting across from him. "What will you do?"
"What?" Sandor sneered.
"When spring comes. Things have changed, haven't they? I'm not staying here any longer, and I thought I'd ask if you want to join me."
"Why the fuck would I do that?"
"Oh, I don't know. Companionship. Adventure. That sort of thing."
Sandor sniggered at him. "Adventure. What the fuck are you talking about. I'm done. I need to find someplace to just fucking be. Not fuck off somewhere with some Lannister-Stark cunt."
"Well, what if I was going someplace to just fucking be?"
He cocked a brow. "You're going to retire? The golden boy? What about Brienne? Arya?"
"Brienne is coming with me. Arya…" he swallowed, looked down. "Arya is not. She will stay here with her family."
"And what about our family?"
"Well, seeing as how I pushed her brother out of a window, I'm not sure we can call one another family any longer," he smiled ruefully.
That was ages ago, and you're forgiven."
"I'm forgiven, but it's not forgotten," Jaime corrected.
"So it's all horse shit, is it? All of this 'brother' stuff?" Sandor was upset. "All of the promises, the fucking shit we went through…none of it mattered, because there's no fucking family. Families forgive, and then they move on."
"Sandor, it's different. I almost killed her brother."
"And you're her fucking brother!" He pointed. "She said so, fucking countless times! And so am I. So it's all fucking shit. None of it mattered, like I knew it wouldn't," and he left.
Jaime sat there, aghast. He would need to speak with them both.
Brienne was tasked with bringing them to Jaime, since he was not welcome in the great hall. Arya was confused, and Sandor outright refused to go until Brienne asked Arya to talk with him.
"Why are you being so fucking stubborn?"
"I don't want to talk about it," he said through clenched teeth. "And if you keep at me, I'll just fucking leave. The two of you can figure things.
"Look. Just see what he has to say. If you don't like it, then you can leave."
"I don't need your permission, Arya Stark."
"Well, as this is my home, I'd say you do," and she turned and left him. "I'm going to see Jaime. You'd better be right behind me."
Brienne watched the exchange, then followed them. She wanted to be there for Jaime in case this conversation got heated.
The two walked into Jaime's room, and she could see from the hall that there was a fire. Brienne closed the door softly, and remained standing, since there were only three chairs. Jaime must have asked for another one.
No one spoke. "Well, it's good that you've come," Jaime said. He smiled then swallowed.
They looked at each other.
"What the fuck are we doing here?" Sandor rolled his eyes
Arya looked at Jaime. "Well, what are we doing here, Jaime?"
"I wanted to discuss…" he cleared his throat. "…to discuss where we are going come spring. I imagine we should be able to travel in a few week's time," Jaime looked at Brienne, who was smiling very softly, looking at him.
Arya lowered her gaze. "I'm staying. There's going to be a wedding, and I need to be here for that."
Jaime nodded. "And you, Sandor?"
"I'm leaving."
"Where are you going?"
He sighed, and looked around. "Haven't decided. South, most likely."
"Well, Brienne and I are leaving for Tarth.
Arya's eyes snapped to his. "Tarth?" She looked at Brienne, who nodded.
"Yes, and you can come with us, if you like. Or ride part of the way, at any rate.
Sandor looked over at Brienne. "What's in Tarth?"
"My father, for one. It's a lovely, warm place. You'd like it."
"What the fuck would I do in Tarth?" "What the fuck will you do anywhere?" Jaime snapped. "If you're going south anyway, why not join us?"
Sandor Clegane grumbled a bit.
"You should go," said Arya. "It'll be beautiful…I've heard it is. Crystal blue waters, lush green fields, wildflowers…"
"Shut the fuck up," spat Sandor. He looked at the company. "I'm not promising anything."
Jaime smiled. "Well, let us know."
"What about Tyrion?" Asked Arya.
"He's staying north, but I'm not exactly sure where. He said he'd visit once things are settled."
Sandor stood. "I'm getting some food."
"Thank you for coming, Sandor," said Jaime.
Arya smiled at Clegane as he left, then looked at Brienne. "You're going home, then."
"Yes, I suppose I am."
"Good," and she stood. "Maybe I can visit sometime," she brushed past Brienne after a quick nod to Jaime, and left.
Jaime sat back in the chair. "Well, that went all right, all things considered.
"Yes, I'd say so," she went over and sat across from him. "Do you think he'll come with us?"
"I certainly hope so," Brienne smiled.
