"Why did you not tell her I was alive?" Jaime's voice startled Tyrion as he entered his solar the next morning.
Tyrion's hand shot to his chest, as if trying to stop his racing heart from bursting through. He turned to see Jaime sitting in his ornately carved chair, feet up on the large heavy table at which he worked upon matters of state. "Godsdammit, Jaime!" He stammered. "You scared the shit out of me." Tyrion glared.
"I ought to beat the shit out of you." Jaime answered, unmoving.
Tyrion eyed him indignantly. "Oh, that's the thanks I get for saving your life?" He remarked with exaggerated hurt.
Jaime rolled his eyes. "Saving it, or ruining it?" He questioned, his voice livid with blame.
"I would say you did a fairly good job of the latter, yourself." Tyrion lowered his eyes at his brother, and regarded him spitefully. He walked slowly and deliberately toward the table at which Jaime sat.
"I did what I had to." Jaime bellowed, moving to perch on the edge of the chair, and stare daggers at Tyrion. "I protected Brienne. The only way I could." His voice fell with painful regret.
Tyrion sighed, contemplating his actions in the matter. Perhaps Jaime was correct. It may have been quite possible that he should have told Brienne that Jaime lived. Although he doubted it would have changed anything. Sansa had written to him of how devastated Brienne had been when his brother had left. Then there had been the matter of the babe. Her world had undoubtedly been shaken to its core. He had no wish to add to her pain. 'After all, Brienne had been the one wronged. There was no way of knowing if she would have even wanted Jaime back in her life.' Tyrion tried to defend his reasons to himself, while, giving his thudding heart time to relax.
Jaime, too, allowed his anger to cool before continuing. "Please tell me, Brother." He begged. "Why did you not go to Brienne, confess that I lived still, and asked her to come to me?" By now, there was more hurt in his voice than rage.
Tyrion shook his head. "Do you honestly think she would have run to you with open arms after what you did to her?" He rebuked. "Besides." He softened. "I did not know if you would live or die. She thought you dead already. Would it have been better for her heart to break twice?" He hoped Jaime would see his logic.
"At least she would have known. Perhaps she would have taken me back." Jaime pressed on, imagining the wonder it would have been to open his eyes upon Brienne's loving face. "Perhaps she would have forgiven me by now." He conjectured. "I would not have missed so much time with her, with them." He lamented, remembering the tiny precious child sleeping at Brienne's bedside, his child, their child. "I could have told her my reasons." Jaime's voice grew even more sad. "Those I should have admitted when I left her, instead of making her think I did not want her." He lowered his face in his hands. "I could have told her that I was so wrong." He bemoaned the choices he had made.
After a long moment, Jaime looked up at Tyrion with anguished eyes. "Now, she won't even speak to me." His face clouded to think of how she had pummeled him, and ordered him from her chambers.
Tyrion's eyes snapped upward. "What did you do?" He growled, seriously.
Jaime sat defeated, his eyes distant. "I had to see them." He explained. "I needed to ensure they wanted for nothing." His face fell, thinking of Brienne's angry reaction upon seeing him returned from the dead.
"From your current mood, I can only take it that things did not go well." Tyrion surmised, already concluding that his long lost brother had found his way to Brienne's chambers. Jaime's only reaction was to shake his head
Jaime closed his eyes and shook his head. "That would be an understatement." His voice was a choked whisper.
Tyrion exhaled loudly, closing his eyes and raising his fingers to the bridge of his nose. He squeezed the bone firmly, hoping to forestall the headache he could feel this day turning into. "Please tell me you did not go bursting into her quarters declaring your return to the living?" Tyrion hoped.
Jaime gave him an a look somewhere between innocence and guilt. "Bursting?" He repeated, his tone rising in his own defense. "No. There was no bursting involved." He assured Tyrion. "My arrival required much more, stealth." He admitted, shrugging his shoulders.
"You broke in." Tyrion asserted.
"It was the middle of the night." Jaime justified. "Brienne never stayed up late during our time together." He elaborated. "I did not think I would disturb them. I only wanted to look upon them." Jaime's eyes grew distant remembering the vision of Brienne guarding their son even in her sleep.
"And how was it that you came to be discovered?" Tyrion sighed.
"They awakened." Jaime said, too obviously avoiding Tyrion's glare.
"I take it she was less than overjoyed to see you." Tyrion guessed.
"She tried to take my head." Jaime's voice fell a painful octave, his anger finding a target. "This is all your fault." He accused, refusing to accept responsibility.
"My fault?" Tyrion questioned in wide-eyed disbelief.
Tyrion shook his head sharply. "Oh no. Brother." He warned. "Do not lay this on me." He refuted. "You wouldn't be in this mess if you had stayed where you were supposed to in the first place!" Tyrion rebuked Jaime.
Jaime knew Tyrion was correct. He never should have parted from. Brienne. Things would have been so different if he had been true to his heart, and stayed to protect her instead of running away. However, now she knew he was alive, and things had changed again. After his ill-planned debacle in her chambers the previous night, winning back either her love or her trust seemed an impossible task.
"Why did you leave the door to my cell unlocked?" Jaime argued. "You should have known I would do something like this." He indicted.
"The King commanded me to make your presence known to Lady Brienne." Tyrion tried to explain. "I knew that if I told her, she would refuse to see you." He said regretfully.
Jaime sneered. He knew Tyrion too well to believe motives completely selfless. "You knew exactly what I would do." He indicted. "That's why you left the door unlocked. It saved you from having to do it." Jaime's voice was charged with anger once more.
Tyrion shrugged. "I thought if she saw you, she would not be able to resist her feelings and they would be find their way to surface." He tried to justify actions he now realized were sadly misguided.
"Oh, her feeling surfaced, alright." Jaime shot back, accusingly. "She no longer mourns me." He grieved. "Now, she wants to kill me, herself." He shook his head, bitterly.
Tyrion regarded his brother, sadly. "It appears we've both made grave errors in judgement." He conceded, with a deep sigh. "Hopefully, your lady love will be able to see in time that your mistakes were made out of love." He said thoughtfully.
"All of them." Jaime wished, lamenting that he ever left Brienne's side.
Tyrion stroked his beard and paced a bit, trying to determine an appropriate course of action. "Well." He finally spoke. "She knows, now." Tyrion acknowledged. "I suppose that's the first step." He said, still trying to plan the next one.
Jaime nodded. "Oh yes." He agreed. "She knows." He joined Tyrion in deep thought. Only a few moments later, their strategy planning was urgently interrupted.
"Lord Tyrion!" Brienne's voice shouted angrily from the corridor, accompanied by her insistent banging upon his door. "Lord Tyrion. I must speak with you!" She demanded, knocking again.
Jaime jumped from his seat behind the desk, his eyes frenzied with remorse. After the scene between them the night before, he knew that he was the last person she wanted to see. Jaime would not cause her further distress for anything. Even his own concern and longing for her would need to wait. He looked pleadingly at his brother for a route of escape.
Tyrion raised his finger to his lips, motioning for Jaime to be silent. He hurried to take hold of his brother's arm, pulling him toward a curtained doorway which led to an anti-chamber just off his solar. Jaime followed willingly. Inside the small alcove, Tyrion pushed Jaime behind the richly brocaded drapery which framed the doorway, and pointed to an empty space just on the other side of the curtain. Jaime flattened himself as tightly as he could against the wall, and looked at Tyrion, alarmed.
"Stay here." Tyrion ordered in a whisper, as he made sure nothing was visible through sides of the fabric. "Do not make a sound." He ordered urgently. Jaime complied, grateful at his brother's solution, yet stricken at the thought of Brienne's rage toward him.
Brienne had spent the remaining hours of darkness holding Galladon close to her, and trying to come to terms with the fact that Jaime still lived. As the hours wore on, part of her wanted to follow him, draw her sword, and make him regret ever leaving her in the most gruesome and painful ways. Memories of all she had endured since his departure laid fresh upon her mind. The following moment, her visions would turn to the nights they spent in each other's arms. Brienne's heart would shatter with his memory, and she would force herself not to run to him and declare her undying love, certain he would feel the same. She had seen the look upon Jaime's face in the dim firelight. He stared at her the way he had at Winterfell, as if he actually cared. The inclination that won out was to sit numbly upon her bed, clutching the babe they had made, and weeping bitter tears.
As morning light met her exhausted eyes, Brienne decided that his sudden appearance back in the realm of the living made no difference. She could never again trust that he had any amorous feelings toward her. Brienne had determined that her most important priority was her son, and Jaime's apparent resurrection did not change that. She would not risk Galladon's security, or his future.
Upon her arrival to the Lord Commander's quarters, Septa Vaele had found her mistress fully dressed and pacing the floor nearly overwrought with anxiety. Brienne hurriedly placed Galladon in his caregiver's arms and rushed to the door. "Do not allow anyone into these quarters. Do not answer if someone should knock." She ordered, hastily. The Septa held Galladon close, and began to tremble at the gravity of Brienne's tone. It was clear something was amiss, and she had found herself directly in the middle of it.
"I shall return shortly." Brienne declared. "There is a pressing matter I must attend." she told the girl as she opened the door and turned the lock to secure the egress behind her. "Remember, not a soul." Brienne eyed the girl, ensuring her meaning was understood. Septa Vaele nodded her reply. Satisfied, Brienne quickly shut the door behind her and stormed off in the direction of The Tower of the Hand.
Having covered the distance to Lord Tyrion's quarters in short order, Brienne stood in the corridor, fuming, waiting for Jaime's brother to answer her call. Jaime was alive, and was here, somewhere in The Red Keep. She was certain The Hand of the King knew all about Ser Jaime's sudden reappearance among the living.
"Lord Commander." Tyrion greeted, opening the door as casually as he could under the circumstances. "What a pleasant surprise." He smiled hospitably, if somewhat overdone.
"Save the formalities, Lord Hand." Brienne glowered. "I need to speak with you." She announced, forcing her way past him and into his quarters, uninvited.
"Please, do come in." Tyrion conceded as he closed the door, dreading the conversation before him.
Brienne surveyed the interior of the room, almost expecting Jaime to be sitting in one of the gilded chairs. She did not realize that he stood unseen behind the heavy fabric only a few feet away, listening to every word.
Tyrion turned, and pasted an innocent smile upon his face. "To what do I owe the honor of your presence, Ser Brienne?" He inquired, unnecessarily.
"I believe you know quite well why I am here." She accused. Tyrion's feigned inculpability only deepened upon his face. Behind the curtain Jaime closed his eyes and reveled in the sound of her voice. Even in anger, it was sweeter to him than any music.
Brienne continued, undaunted. "I received a most unwelcome visit from an extremely unexpected intruder in my chambers last night." She informed him, indignantly.
Tyrion gasped. "What? An intruder, here in The Red Keep?" He questioned, trying to give his response the appropriate level of concern. "How did the marauder get past the guards?" He wondered aloud.
"Don't patronize me." Brienne scowled. "You know very well who it was." Her spiteful stare bore holes through Tyrion, who all but squirmed under her scrutiny. "Your brother is alive." She asserted. Hidden away in the adjacent room, Jaime's heart broke at the sound of the hatred in Brienne's voice.
It was clear to Tyrion that he could not deny the obvious. Jaime had already made his presence known to her, and the King himself would sanction the discovery. He could only do his best to lessen the damage to both Brienne and Jaime. He lowered his head, unable to meet her eyes. "Yes." Tyrion nodded. "Jaime is alive." He admitted.
For a moment, Brienne was struck speechless. Her mind was besieged by same unanswerable questions which had tormented her during the night, as she had held Jaime's son, and tried to force herself to understand what she could not imagine. Why had Tyrion, at least, not told her? Had it been that Jaime had wished her not to know?
As she had made her way to Tyrion's office that morning, Brienne determined she would not show emotion at the realization that her child's father lived. She swore to herself that neither anger, nor bitterness, nor hurt, nor heartbreak would be the cause of anything other than apathy to be her reaction. Upon hearing confirmation of Jaime' survival, her resolve was fast failing her. Brienne stood in Tyrion's solar, digging her fingernails into her palms in an effort not to allow the heartbroken tears that swamped her throat to flow to the surface.
"How long has he been here?" She asked hoarsely, her eyes betraying her hurt.
Tyrion cleared his throat. "He never left." His answer was nearly as agonized as Brienne's question. Jaime pressed himself harder against the wall of the adjoining room, trying desperately to resist racing from his clandestine station and groveling at Brienne's feet.
A cold anger slowly overtook Brienne's hurt. "This entire time? He was alive?" she voiced quietly, her words more of a hollow statement than a question. Her mind reeled, at the notions forming in her thoughts. Cruel sobs welled within her chest. She swallowed hard, and forced them down. So, it seemed he had not wished her anywhere near. Had he even mentioned her? Unseen, Jaime's own tears welled behind his eyes. He could feel the doubt and ache in Brienne's murmur.
Tyrion looked painfully at Brienne, he could see the shadow of the agony under which she had lived for so long. "Barely." Tyrion corrected. "The bricks that were reported to have taken Jaime's life, very nearly did their job." He told Brienne, certain the memory of finding his brother so near to death would haunt him for the remainder of his days.
Brienne was unmoved. "I am sure he laments the fact that he was unable to die along with your sister as he wished." She raised her chin proudly, unwilling to show how the idea afflicted her. Even at the distance at which he stood from her, Jaime could hear the resentful sting in Brienne's tone, and it tore him apart.
"No. My Lady. That was not at all his purpose." Tyrion shook his head mournfully.
Brienne considered his words. "Perhaps you are correct." She agreed. "Obviously, he must have held some hope in returning to her." Brienne's speech was stiff and forced. Against her best efforts, it betrayed the torture longing in her heart. "Surely, he wished for a long, happy life and a beautiful family, far from here." She concluded. "Everything, and everyone else just a distasteful memory." She emphasized. Brienne was fast losing the battle to remain distanced from the injured emotions she had harbored for so long. Jaimie shook his head as he listened in silence.
Tyrion lowered his gaze, considering the pain in which Brienne continued to be mired. 'Damn Jaime for not having been forthright with her, as to why he had left Winterfell.' Tyrion thought to himself. He knew not which truly would have been the better outcome, risking the safety of a seasoned knight that she might have followed him into danger, or letting her live the rest of her life believing she had not been loved with all of the passion in his brother's soul. He fought himself not to drag Jaime from the next room and force him to explain himself to Brienne, then and there.
"My Lady." Tyrion spoke considerately, heedful of Brienne's anger and injury. "You must believe me." He begged. "A life with Cersei was the farthest desire from Jaime's heart." He entreated her to find the honesty in his accounting of events. "His greatest aspiration would be a life with you, and the child with which you have blessed him." Tyrion pleaded.
A rueful sneer crossed Brienne's face. "Please do not insult my intelligence, My Lord." She answered scornfully. "Your brother made it perfectly clear where his heart lay, when he rode through the gates at Winterfell." She informed him contemptuously.
"What we may have had there meant nothing to him. That much was obvious when he bed me for a moon, and then left." Brienne's jaw cut like steel, and her lips pursed stiffly with anger. "He would not even have said a word to me had I not awakened, and found him saddling his horse, in a fury to be gone." Her jaw tightened, as she nearly spat the syllables.
Brienne did not know why she so easily yielded her usual obsession with privacy to answer Tyrion so honestly. Perhaps her judgement was clouded by her rage. It was possible that she inwardly felt some strange kind of kinship with Jaime's brother. It could simply have been that it felt good to finally give voice to her resentments. For whatever reason, she continued, the words pouring from deep within her broken heart.
"I was but a whore to be used for battle lust. Quick to foresake, easy to leave, and even easier to forget." Brienne rued.
In the next room, Jaime shook his head. 'No. No! Brienne.' His inner most voice echoed in his own ears. "You were never that to me." The torment of his grief was unbearable. "My heart stayed with you.' His mind screamed. 'You are my heart.' He could feel the destruction of their love that he had caused.
Tyrion had sat with Jaime everyday for a year since his supposed death. He had seen the hopeless hurt his brother had caused himself. He understood, the depths of Jaime's love and adoration for Brienne. His cause could not have been more crucial if it had been his own lady love to whom he pleaded. He hoped to find a way to impart all that Jaime had told him to Brienne. Tyrion realized how difficult that would be as he felt her fury and tenacity mounting.
Tyrion stepped toward the Lord Commander, his hands outstretched, imploring her to believe him. "Lady Brienne, the truth is..." He began sincerely, only to have his cause halted by her ire.
"The truth is, My Lord, that Jaime would have rather died with Cersei, than live with me." Brienne asserted, the pain in her heart too much to hide, as her eyes clouded with tears.
Hidden in the darkness, Jaime's own heart shattered at Brienne's assertion. He realized now, just how deeply he had hurt the woman he loved. She now counted him the worst of all of those who had taunted and disparaged her throughout her life. How could he ever convince her, that she was truly the greatest treasure he had ever beheld. His only desire was to give his life in order to keep her safe. He had told her long ago, that his heart would always be hers. He thought she understood his meaning, but it was a man's actions which ultimately proved his character to Brienne. His actions toward her had been despicable. There, standing alone in the darkened alcove, listening to her perception and resentment, he feared he had killed any love she ever had for him.
His options fleeting before his eyes, Tyrion understood that no argument of motive he could give would sway Brienne's to change her thoughts of Jaime's betrayal. The only path left to him was simple heartfelt honesty. He looked up at Brienne, genuine care and concern for both her and Jaime evident on his features. "He loves you." Was the all he could say.
Brienne was taken aback. She stepped away from Tyrion and looked down upon him. "Loves me?" She scoffed. In her mind, again she watched Jaime leaving Winterfell, leaving her. Her memory brought her thoughts of carrying and bearing his child. Her heart filled with love for her son, and with determination never to see him hurt they way she had been. She forced her own love for Jaime to the depths of her awareness. "My Lord, if he loved me, he would not have left." She said plainly. At that Jaime lost his battle to stop the flowing of his tears.
Before Tyrion could open his mouth to protest, Brienne made her final declaration. "My Lord." She insisted. "I have no interest in arguing events of the past." Brienne stated emphatically. "That is not why I am here." She informed him. "My purpose in calling upon you this morning is to deliver a message." She turned a cool glare to him.
"Anything, My Lady." Tyrion acquiesced, hopeful that he might somehow be of help in rebuilding the bridge between Jaime and Brienne.
Brienne took a moment's breath and steadied herself, desirous of giving the appropriate emphasis to her words. Then her eyes turned steely, narrowing to daggers. "You need to make Ser Jaime understand, that if he ever comes near me or my child again..." Brienne's tone left nothing to be misinterpreted. "He will wish he died beneath that ruble." She swore, her face never changing from a mask of cold anger, as she turned and stormed from the room.
Tyrion bowed his head and waited, anticipating the forelorn ghost of a man who would soon hover over him. In only moments, his prediction came to fruition as Jaime shuffled heavily from the next room, barely able to lift his feet. In all the worst times through which he knew the man had lived, Tyrion had never seen the shattered agony which he saw upon Jaime's face at what he had just heard from Brienne's own lips. Jaime appeared more a shadow of himself. All hope was lost him. He was certain she could never love him again.