A/N: I planned to have so much more in this chapter, but sadly it would get way too long then. Even without additional content, it's probably the longest chapter as far. So one of my favorite B&J scenes will come in the next one, sadly.

Share with me your thoughts after reading and, most importantly, enjoy!


VIII

No Rest for the Wicked

During their walk to the Great Hall Brienne awkwardly got Jaime up-to-date with everything that had happened in the last few years that he wasn't aware of. It was safer to talk, as silence threatened to flood her head with thoughts she shouldn't have had. And Jaime was curious enough to make the conversation flow smoothly, asking questions about details and sometimes interrupting the course of the story to find out what she had been doing at given time, which made her answers even more ungraceful. She definitely didn't like talking about herself, but he seemed to thoroughly enjoy hearing it, forcing her to reveal more and more. Especially a mention of her fight with The Hound ignited his curiosity; for Brienne's taste, it should have remained just a mention, but once Jaime caught the topic he wanted to know everything about it. She described the whole fight neutrally like it didn't concern her, feeling uncomfortable at the fact she had to narrate her own victory. Jaime watched her with growing amusement as she writhed around the topic so as not to dwell on her achievements, and with absolute respect at how wonderfully skilled fighter she was. He wished he could try to spar with her at least one more time and felt a sting of pain that he would never be able to do that.

"He must have been delighted when he saw you again." He smirked, remembering Clegane had been a member of Daenerys' party in Dragonpit and as such was probably in Winterfell as well.

Brienne shrugged.

"We have good relations," she said like it was a completely normal thing to be casual acquaintances after almost killing one another.

She strode further as Jaime looked at her with astonishment, hiding his admiration. He shouldn't have been surprised though; hadn't they themselves been enemies when they first met?

Brienne pondered excessively whether she could tell him what she wanted, but finally made her decision. Considering he had been forgiven by both the Queen and her dragon, she believed she had the right to disclose to him the biggest secret Westeros had ever known. First, she made him solemnly swear not to pass the information to anyone else. He laughed at the firmness in her voice and eyes but nonetheless promised her what she wanted. When she finally revealed the most important truth he stopped dead in his tracks.

First, he wanted to laugh, but then he realized Brienne wasn't the one to tell jokes, and his face grew serious again.

"Snow's what?" he asked loudly, staring at her wide-eyedly, shock and disbelief clearly written all over his features.

"You promised to keep silent," she reminded him, grateful to the Seven no one was close enough to hear anything or else they would be in a serious trouble.

"Fine," Jaime muttered, resuming their march. "But that was rather... unexpected."

"Currently it is also rather dangerous knowledge," she noticed and quickly changed the subject. The awkwardness was gone when she told him about current war plans that had been made so far, or at least what she knew about them considering even her lady hadn't been fully informed, and about all the news Tormund had brought. Jaime absorbed the information with a storm in his heart, especially when he heard about the undead dragon. Brienne saw his discomfort and tried to smile at him comfortingly. She was painfully aware of the fact she had no idea how to comfort people. Lift their spirits by telling them the harshest of truths, yes, but tell them soft words that would make their worries go away? No. No one had ever depended on her doing such a thing and she herself didn't deem it necessary, so she had never acquired that skill. "We will probably hear more about it at the meeting."

Jaime nodded absently, trying to fathom the idea of a creature worse than a living dragon. He failed.

They reached the Great Hall unbothered by anyone and anything except for the hostile glances Northmen were throwing at Jaime's direction. Jaime ignored them completely, entirely used to it, but Brienne, though without acknowledging it out loud, was answering with stares of her own. She was going to protect him from hostilities as much as she could. Jaime could tell her there was no need for it, but something in her shielding him and his name from harm - or rather what was left of his name - made him feel the warmth spreading from his heart, the kind of warmth he hadn't felt in ages. Cersei could have never endowed him with it; the only thing she ever had for him was the coldness and physical desire. So as long as Brienne's protection didn't threaten her own good name and life, he wasn't going to interfere; she wouldn't listen to him anyway.

He realized it was the first time in more than a few hours he thought about his sister; maybe this day wasn't as terrible as he initially considered it to be. There was a good side to it, even more than one.

The Great Hall was bustling with people as they entered it. More hostile stares greeted them as they scanned the chamber for some free space; finally, they simultaneously spotted Bronn and Podrick standing by the wall and walked their way.

"Maester's still breathing?" Jaime asked with a smirk as he came to a stop next to Bronn, who looked significantly better now. His skin returned to its normal color and his hand seemed to cooperate with the rest of his body quite smoothly; moreover, he was standing on his own two feet without much effort, only leaning against the wall for some additional support.

"I decided to give him a second chance." He shrugged nonchalantly.

"How generous of you," Jaime commented sarcastically; Bronn didn't manage to answer as the royalty had just arrived to fill the empty chairs behind the table at the head of the chamber. The crowd stepped aside to make room for them and for a moment the people in the Hall became a dense mass of flesh. It was a tremendous relief when the dignitaries reached their destination and it was possible to be individual beings once again.

The room went quiet as they sat down - Daenerys in the middle, Jon at her left, Sansa and Tyrion to her right. There was already something very different in the atmosphere around them comparing to the one from this morning. They seemed more focused and determined, while also much calmer despite the new imminent threats.

Daenerys looked around the men who, as Jaime had already gathered, could never truly be her faithful subjects, and stood up. All eyes focused on her. All eyes except for Tormund's, who stared obtrusively at Brienne with such intensity she could no longer stand it; she moved to stand behind her companions so he would no longer be able to see her, all the while looking only and entirely at the Dragon Queen.

"Thank you all for coming," Daenerys said, sending a soft smile to the people. "Today we have learned information that might change the fate of the Great War forever, and among it our own as well. You all have the right to know what is happening."

Her gaze swept the faces of the people around her seeking understanding or curiosity in their eyes. She had to fail as her expression slightly faltered; it didn't stop her from continuing, though, and soon she began conveying all the information Jaime and Tormund had brought this day.

The reactions were diverse, varying from calm to outraged, and sometimes really polarized. Hearing the part of the story that had come from Jaime, the Northerners started murmuring something quietly, yet it managed to rise to a low, steady hum as a lot of them gazed at Jaime menacingly. They didn't like the Lannisters among their own ranks, theoretically on the same side, while in reality, it was to always remain "theoretical" in their minds.

Jaime understood they would never trust him, but this was nothing new. As all the more antagonistic stares were being cast at his direction, he watched the people around him as the Dragon Queen spoke. The majority of the Northern lords didn't seem content with their new ruler. They looked at her with almost the same hatred and distrust with which they stared at him, whispering things to each other, things that probably didn't help her cause. And who could blame them? She was a Targaryen and they had no reason to trust her house, the same way they didn't have a reason to trust house Lannister. What surprised him, though, was that some of them looked the same way at Jon Snow. From what Brienne had told him he was certain Snow's genealogy was a secret knowledge, yet, even without taking him for a dragon, they didn't see a wolf in him anymore either. Maybe because they didn't like him bending the knee before the Queen without their consent, without even asking them for an opinion? It seemed like the lords had already found a new wolf to follow, though, as there was one person they gazed upon with respect and reverence. It felt like they were ready to pronounce Sansa queen any given moment, and the title would not necessarily be Queen in the North, but the Queen, one and only true ruler of the whole Westeros. Jaime chuckled internally; that would be an entertaining show to witness.

It was good to know that in any such event, he would remain on Brienne's side, having sworn his sword to lady Stark and not the Dragon Queen. At least once in his life, he had managed to use his brains.

As the story went on, Jaime created his own view of the political and military situation, from what he had seen and heard this day. The conclusion was quite simple - it was chaos. His skilled eye of a commander noticed the complete disorder, carefully covered with seeming control and lawful obedience. Common people, lords, warriors, soldiers that had nothing to do with each other gathering under one roof to await the fight with the dreadful enemy not one of them had ever even glimpsed at. Armies already freezing outside, because there was no place for them inside the castle. Lords that pretended to care, while all they truly wanted was to flee to their own walls and stay there forever, protecting only their kin. People who slept basically everywhere they could; five in one small chamber, in the corridors, in the dining rooms. Scared boys who had been given weapons way too early and were doomed to die at the faintest swing of an enemy's sword.

The havoc was being wreaked far before the war would get here. It was a mayhem no one had ever seen. It was their own apocalypse.

Everyone up high - Daenerys, Snow, even Sansa and Tyrion - more or less consciously tried to make it all look like they had it under control, but the truth was, nothing was under control. They were vegetating in anticipation for the great battle that, once it came, could find them not only unprepared but also already decimated by cold, hunger and extreme exhaustion, lacking food, skills, weapons, numbers. Before, Jaime had thought there might have been a slight chance for survival. Now, he stopped hoping. He just wished to live before he would die, that was all. And now, forgiven by both human and actual dragons, he had such a chance.

His gaze involuntarily turned towards Brienne. For a moment he watched her as she was standing behind Bronn, straightened up in all her hight, her focused gaze fastened on the Queen. Something turned inside him as he drank her image in, smiling softly to his thoughts. Yes, she definitely belonged in the plan of living the life before the certain, untimely death would come. He could only hope she wished to participate in it.

Finally, Daenerys finished reporting the latest events and looked at Jon, who stood up and took the speech over from her.

"The enemy is close," he started, his voice so firm and dire Jaime and Bronn looked at each other with smirks, Bronn barely restraining himself from laughing. "Closer than we expected. It is possible they will attack this night and find us unprepared. There is such an option." He stopped talking for a moment, his solemn gaze sweeping over his people. "I won't lie to you - we will die today if that happens."

Surprisingly, no angry or fearful whispers came through the crowd; it was like in an instant the self-serving lords understood the harshest of truths. The only thing that remained was silence, spreading in everyone's hearts and planting a seed of passive despair. No one dared to speak, staring at their leader with flickers of hope in their eyes, hope they couldn't yet eradicate, hope that was going to be alive until the very end. Hope that might become the only thing keeping them alive during the darkest of winter nights.

Jaime curiously observed those around him; people looked like the weight of the world suddenly landed on their shoulders, pinning them to the ground, crushing and suffocating them. The atmosphere, previously defiant and determined, in one moment gained the dull stench of darkness and gloom.

"We don't know where exactly they are. And why don't we know that?" Jon hung his voice for a moment, his eyes sweeping over the silent crowd. "Because our soldiers are afraid. They fear going further north for the risk of meeting the dead. They fear the enemy more than the death itself and so they desert. The majority of patrols do not come back ever again."

"We'll make these cowards braver!" one of the lords shouted, the others nodded or murmured their concord.

"No." Jon shook his head. "They are not to blame. Don't we all want to walk away from all of it? Don't we want to distance ourselves from the greatest danger the humanity has ever seen?"

Murmurs spread around the crowd; negligence towards deserters had never been seen in the North, not to mention the firm and strict Winterfell. They all remembered Ned Stark cutting heads of those with weak hearts. They all thought his son would honor this tradition.

"We all want that. But, unlike our soldiers, we cannot escape. We are leaders. We need to lead so the people of Westeros live to see the other day." Jon's gaze sought courage and willingness in his people's faces, qualities necessary to survive the impending war, yet he found very little of anything but the gloomy defiance. They didn't lack bravery or strength, but they also didn't want to listen to truths and be forced to show their real colors. They could say as much as they wished how they will punish those of weak hearts; however, not a single one of them would volunteer to take their place. No one wanted to be out there. No one wanted to face the unknown. "Our guards didn't see anything suspicious, but guards can see only what is in their reach. We need to send new patrols with those who are afraid enough to also be brave."

As some of the lords realized what their king was telling them while others fell into confusion, silence reappeared. Those who did guess Snow's intentions seemed to desperately avoid his gaze, pretending they were somewhere entirely different. Jaime wondered quite bitterly what had happened to the courageous people of the North. Surely the reactions would be different if the enemy was human, but still... Even the most faithful and disciplined North had managed to fall apart without the firm and protective wings of Eddard Stark.

"This night we will prepare." Jon's voice resonated in the silence of the Great Hall. "We thought we will come to the enemy, but it is the enemy who will come to us. If they attack in the morning, we will be prepared. However, if they do not attack us until then, we will send new patrols on the morrow to find out their exact location. We could send a dragon, as they are much quicker than horses, but we cannot risk losing any more of them. People are replaceable. Dragons are not."

Murmurs arose once again. Those were not the words that would earn Snow some respect. No one wanted to hear they were expendable.

"That is why we need six volunteers who will travel north at dawn and bring us the information we shall have."

Volunteers. Jaime thought Snow had to be extremely naive to expect anyone would ever volunteer to do such a thing before Jon's gaze met his and he realized that he was going to be a sacrificial lamb.

"Kingslayer, Ser Bronn, we appreciate your eagerness to help the cause. Thank you for volunteering."

All eyes turned towards the two knights, Brienne's wide and almost indignant. Jaime wanted to laugh; they should have seen it coming from the very start.

"Always willing to serve!" he sneered, not even trying to hide the sarcasm in his voice. Snow ignored him completely, his gaze already shifting to someone else.

"For free," Bronn added silently, looking at Jaime with accusation in his eyes.

"Not my fault." Jaime shrugged. His eyes suddenly rested on Tyrion, who apparently had been trying to catch the eye contact with him for quite some time. "If you want to find the one responsible for getting you into this mess in the first place, look there."

Bronn followed his gaze, narrowing his eyes as they fell upon the younger Lannister, who, in confusion, frowned and after a while looked away from where they were standing, shades of shame and guilt on his face.

"Serve the Lannisters, they said," Bronn grumbled bitterly. "You'll be bloody rich, they said."

"You're hearing voices? That's disturbing."

"You know what the voices are telling me now?" He straightened and looked at Jaime demandingly. "To run as far from this shit as I can, when I still can."

"But you can't," Jaime noticed with mocked indignation. "You already volunteered, remember? King Jon is counting on you."

As the two knights bickered the list of volunteers grew longer and eventually closed. It went exactly the way Jon had thought it would go.

"Someone needs to show these fuckers where they belong," Tormund exclaimed. "I'm goin'."

Jon nodded approvingly. Brienne fastened her gaze on Sansa wishing to get her attention before it would be too late.

"I'll go." Gendry was next. Arya, standing right next to him, opened her mouth to say the same, but Sandor Clegane cut her off before she had a chance to speak.

"These cunts won't survive without me. I'm going."

Arya sent him a murderous glare at which he didn't react in the slightest.

Sansa finally felt Brienne's insistent stare on her. There was a question in her knight's irises, a rather obvious plea for permission. Lady Stark nodded her head.

"Me too," Brienne said quickly before anyone could beat her to it, which completed the team of so-called volunteers. Tormund turned around and grinned widely at her, his eyes shining with joy and anticipation. She took a deep breath to prevent herself from charging at him and turned her back on him, returning her attention to the two knights beside her, trying not to think about the possibility of common patrol with her wild admirer. "That's Tormund Giantsbane," she finally told them, this time not even trying to sound neutral. The discussion between Jaime and Bronn ended immediately, their heads snapping to where the Wildling was standing.

Bronn whistled silently at the sight.

"Quite a competition," he muttered to Jaime with a half smirk so Brienne wouldn't hear him. Jaime cast him a murderous stare, but before he could retort Brienne answered, apparently disposing of better hearing abilities than Bronn had given her credit for.

"He's free to take if you want him."

Bronn chuckled.

"I'd prefer Pod if you're offering." Podrick gazed at him, suddenly alarmed.

"Podrick is my squire and he's not going anywhere," Brienne answered firmly and without hesitation. Pod released a sigh of relief - despite the fondness he had for Brienne's fellow knights, he was hers and hoped it would remain like that till the end of his days.

"Maybe you should rethink it."

"I highly doubt I'd ever feel like it."

"You do remember Pod isn't a thing, right?" Jaime cut in with a smirk. Podrick gazed from one knight to the other, not sure why he suddenly became the main subject of the discussion, treated somewhat like an object at the market.

"You're jealous you don't have a squire," Bronn retorted.

"I have you. You're usually enough."

Bronn narrowed his eyes.

"Careful, I might consider being your living shield bored me."

"Nah." Jaime shrugged nonchalantly. "What would happen to your beloved castle then? Being in your debt is the safest way to survive in Westeros."

Brienne smiled to herself, the two men bickering easing her into some pleasant memories. Before Bronn could reply, Snow spoke up again.

"My lords, my ladies, you may now return to your men and prepare them for what is to come. We will meet here again in an hour or so to discuss the attack and plan the defense. You are dismissed. Volunteers, stay."

As the majority of the crowd started leaving the hall, Jon watched the newly formed team carefully, repeating his next steps in his mind. He hadn't chosen to send a few bigger teams because he needed people here, in Winterfell, and he also wanted them to move as quickly and silently as possible, which was manageable only with a limited number of people. It wasn't like he could afford losing six fighters, who arguably were the most skilled swordsmen in his entire army, not to mention the three Valyrian-steel swords they had; he couldn't lose them, but he was almost certain his plan will prove to be both efficient and quite safe. They will come back, he was almost sure of that.

Almost.

He wished he could go with them, but he had to remind himself time and time again he needed to stay where he was and lead. It was not the time for heroism, as Daenerys had told him, it was time to take matters into his own hands and rule the North as only he could do it. And so, he ruled.

He had predicted all of the people who volunteered, so he didn't even have to adjust his plan which, after some heated discussion, had been approved by every person whose voice mattered. They will travel in pairs in three different directions, so they would cover the biggest terrain possible. He had had some troubles convincing Sansa it wasn't about having a pleasant journey with a nice pal; he knew his decisions will not be met with approval from the volunteers, but those were the best possible options. He needed to have one person he trusted and one with a Valyrian-steel blade for a pair. Considering Sam, having followed Arya's suggestion, had temporarily entrusted Sandor Clegane with Heartsbane, the answer was obvious and he was pretty confident with his choices. Yet, he had to internally apologize to his wild friend, seeing him grinning at lady Brienne and knowing Tormund won't like what was going to come.

Soon there were only the usual people, volunteers, the Starks and Podrick left in the Great Hall. The majority of them moved to join Jon at the table which was now a Westeros map while the rest remained at their places.

"Still so bitter, mate?" Bronn approached the Hound with a half-smile. Sandor gazed at him hostilely.

"Fuck off," he barked as an answer.

"I'll take that as a yes." Bronn clapped the other man's back and withdrew his hand quickly before he would lose it. It was good to know some things never changed.

Jon gazed at the people standing in front of him and decided they were ready. He was ready.

"As I told you before, we want you to bring us the information we need that others do not bring. You'll go in pairs in three different directions. I need you to be quick, but also safe. If you're not careful enough this might end up to be a suicide mission." Tormund yawned ostentatiously, making Arya smirk. Jon sighed and continued, no longer feeling so guilty about his decisions. "Tormund, you and the Kingslayer will go towards Eastwatch."

Tormund's face fell on the spot, Jaime's brow went higher, Brienne cursed internally, Bronn didn't even try to stifle a chuckle. Jon quickly continued as not to give anyone, especially Tormund, any time for interfering.

"You'll go northeast." He drew a straight line on the table-turned-map with his finger. "And then come back first south, then west." He drew two additional lines which together formed a reversed letter L. "Lady Brienne." He gazed at Brienne to make sure he got her attention. She looked back at him calmly, now not really caring who she will be paired with. She didn't know the blacksmith boy - or rather a future Baratheon heir - as well as the other two men, but she was sure they'll be fine either way, unlike Jaime and Tormund, who will probably be everything but fine.

"You and Ser Bronn will go towards the Shadow Tower, likewise." He drew similar lines to the ones he had traced before. "Gendry, Clegane, you are left with Castle Black. You'll go straight north. I've already sent ravens to the Shadow Tower and Castle Black. If my former brothers are still alive and able to receive my letters, they will venture south and maybe meet you somewhere on the road, meanwhile checking the northern premises for the wights. If you do meet, you all shall make sure to cover as much terrain as possible before coming back here." He stopped talking, gazing at his volunteers intently and waiting for possible questions that did not come. "I don't want you to unnecessarily risk your lives, so you'll go as far as you can by day, find a shelter when it gets dark and make your way back as soon as the sun rises."

"What shelter?" Gendry asked, pointing at the empty spaces north of Winterfell.

"Anything." Jon remembered his own journey to Castle Black like it had been only yesterday. "Caves, abandoned huts, trees. Anything you can find that would shelter you from their eyes."

"Up the tree? So the dragon wouldn't see us?" Tormund mocked. Jon looked at him wearily, his gaze saying you're not helping. Tormund answered with a shrug and a defiant stare of his own which read I wasn't going to.

"The road is long and dangerous, and the days are now short, getting shorter every single time the sun sets," Jon continued his speech undeterred. He tried to look only at Gendry and Brienne, as they seemed to be the only ones truly interested in the cause. "Do not exhaust yourselves or your horses, we need you back here in one piece. You probably won't get very far, but it should be enough to see some traces of the enemy. I want you here at dusk two morrows from this moment. Do you have any questions?"

"What if we find them?" Arya asked, only after a moment remembering she wasn't going to be a part of any patrol. "They, I mean. What if they find the dead." She shot Clegane yet another pointed stare. He just grunted and looked away, shaking his head dismissively.

Brienne, for once, felt gratitude towards Sandor for volunteering in place of Arya - she wouldn't like seeing the younger Stark venture yet again on an adventure where Brienne wouldn't be able to protect her. Not that Arya needed protection, Brienne thought briefly. They were really alike, indeed. And they both had some kind of guardians they didn't really need, didn't they? She looked at Jaime, remembering their conversation concerning Tormund.

I don't need protection, but thank you for your concern.

Anytime.

Something in her twisted and she had to look away quickly before he would notice she was staring at him. Although it had nothing to do with protection, she did need him.

Focus, Brienne. The wights are waiting, she thought, reminding herself of the priorities.

"If you do find the dead, come back at the very same instant. Do not," Jon gazed intently at Tormund, accentuating every word, "I repeat, do not engage. Gather as much information as you can and come back. Is this understood?"

Murmurs spread around him, murmurs he took as a common "yes".

"Good. You are dismissed now. Go get some rest, you're leaving at dawn," he finished, relieved that it was finally over.

The people started to disperse, silent conversations arising between them. Brienne wanted to thank Clegane for what he had done but noticed he was already busy and decided to do it some other time.

Sandor turned around only to find Arya staring at him coldly.

"I know, you'll gut me out and show me my insides before I die," he barked, passing her.

"Take care of him."

Her voice was so quiet and unlike the Arya he had come to know that for a moment he thought he had imagined that, and his imagination wasn't exactly vivid. But then her gaze changed and she looked at him sadly, solemnly, pleadingly. So he just nodded his head without a word and they both walked their respective ways.

Tormund waited until the rest disappeared to walk closer to Jon and burst out: "Come on, kid! I'm trying to woo my woman here and you're doin' nothin' to help me!"

Jon looked at him heavily and sighed.

"Your woman doesn't seem interested," he noticed bitterly, not blind to lady Brienne's reactions to Tormund's advances. "Besides, it's hardly the time for wooing anyone. We have more important things to do. Don't you remember your solemn promise that you'll make the dead pay for what they've done to your people?"

Tormund's eyes went darker.

"I remember," he muttered disgruntledly. "But why are you sending me with the sister-fucker?"

Jon gazed around hurriedly and when he made sure no one was watching them, especially Tyrion, he answered: "Because I know you won't hesitate to kill him if he does anything suspicious."

Those were some harsh words that didn't come lightly. He wasn't an enthusiast of murder, and even though he hated Jaime Lannister with all the burning passion he could find in his heart, he wouldn't kill him in cold blood. But he will never be able to trust the Lannister knight and so, he needed someone to do the dirty work for him, if there would be the need for it. No sooner, though. He knew that if anything happened to the Kingslayer without an apparent reason, Tyrion and very likely Sansa would never speak to him again and he didn't intend for that to happen.

He sometimes hated what he had become. This was one of such moments.

Tormund's eyes widened in surprise as his mouth shaped in a grin.

"Can't I just kill him now?"

"No!" Jon immediately regretted the harsh answer, although Tormund didn't really seem bothered by it. "I'd very much like to see him dead, trust me. But he has a Valyrian-steel sword and we need it," he added explanatorily nonetheless.

"And one hand that's only good for his sister's cunt," Tormund quipped.

"Maybe." Jon sighed in exasperation. "But Sansa and Lady Brienne trust him, so..."

Tormund's expression changed abruptly like the angry waters during a violent wave of a storm.

"Brienne trusts him?" he asked in a peculiarly calm tone and crossed his arms on his chest.

"She vouched for him before your arrival."

Tormund hummed in acknowledgment and walked away without any word of goodbye. Jon stared after him, not sure if or what exactly had he just done. He was dreadfully tired like they had already fought a battle with the dead and were somehow still alive. And there were still hundreds of talks with the lords ahead of him, as Daenerys had made him responsible for their military defense and communication with the northern people.

He turned around and immediately stumbled upon Daenerys' observant eyes and her soft smile. He returned the gesture, smiling weakly at her.

"Ruling is a tough job," he noticed in an apologetic tone.

She laughed lightly.

"Wait till you're the king on the Iron Throne," she said, standing up from the table and joining him at the map.

"I told you I have no interest in being the heir." Weren't they already past these issues?

"I didn't say anything about being the heir."

He looked at her, surprise taking his senses away, while his whole world got lost in her eyes.


"I haven't volunteered for quite some time," Bronn commented immediately after leaving the Great Chamber as he and Jaime walked out behind Brienne and Podrick. Brienne was busy trying to explain to her squire why he couldn't go with her - the orders of two people at once didn't prove to be enough, so she called in the more important reasons and told him that with him around wights would be informed of their presence miles before the patrol could reach the dead. After that Podrick went silent, either because of hurt feelings or because of the truth standing behind her words; she didn't know and at that moment couldn't care less. His survival was much more important than his pride.

"Tyrion's trial?" Jaime asked, remembering the story from years before.

"I knew I'd get paid, so that hardly counts for volunteering. But this one should definitely be fun," Bronn smirked at Jaime.

"We can always make an exchange of partners," Jaime replied casually.

"You'd wish." Bronn chuckled and gazed askance at Brienne, who had to now escape to the most absurd argument - she allegedly needed Pod to stay here in order to protect Sansa. Jaime hadn't actually seen the squire in a real fight, but from Brienne's behavior, he surmised it wouldn't be an exactly spectacular view.

Their march came to a halt when they heard a voice calling from behind.

"Jaime!"

The knight didn't turn around, but he did stop in his steps. So much had happened this day that he had almost forgotten Brienne hadn't been the only one for whose good graces he had counted on.

"We'll leave you to it." Bronn patted him on the shoulder, greeted Tyrion with a short nod and walked away with Pod and Brienne, who cast Jaime a talk-to-your-brother look before leaving them in the corridor.

Jaime turned around only when he lost sight of his companions. And there he was - the youngest of the Lannister siblings, the murderer of Tywin Lannister, the Hand of the Targaryen Queen. Once upon a time, the traitor. Now... Now, Jaime did not know. He had no idea how the conversation that awaited him will or should go, no clue whatsoever. He didn't even know how he currently felt about his brother, not to mention how to talk about it.

Tyrion was standing at some distance from him, just staring. For a moment they both didn't know what to do next, awkwardness and all of the unsaid - or wrongly said - words creeping between them and standing in the way. Could some things be forgiven and the others forgotten? Or maybe a rift between them had been already too deep to ever rebuild a bridge over it?

"I was really glad to see you this morning," Tyrion finally said, attempting a slight smile. Glad wasn't exactly the right word to describe his feelings, but it was the safest one. Relieved. So happy as he hadn't been in a really long time. Maybe he could tell Jaime that; their last conversation before his meeting with Cersei hadn't been as hostile as the one Bronn had arranged, but it wasn't brotherly as well and all he wanted right now was to get his brother back.

Jaime gazed at Tyrion silently. He could say the same words, which would definitely make Tyrion feel better, but they didn't want to leave his throat. He hadn't felt much seeing Tyrion this morning, that was the truth.

"And I'm sorry I..." Tyrion hung his voice, his gaze dropping onto the floor, "...I didn't protect you."

Jaime chuckled humorlessly.

"It was never your job."

"Maybe it should have been." Tyrion's eyes shone with guilt and Jaime realized his little brother was blaming himself for not aiding him more in the struggle against Daenerys' anger. "I should have advised you more in the past, I should..."

"Stop it." Jaime shook his head. "You don't owe me anything."

This time it was Tyrion who laughed.

"Absolutely, I only owe you my life and basically all of my good childhood memories," he answered bitterly.

Childhood. In some other life they had been close, hadn't they? The memories of Tyrion's incarceration flooded Jaime's mind as he tried to grasp his current attitude towards his brother.

"Those were only my choices that ultimately led me here," he said firmly. "Not yours. And I'm finally ready to take full responsibility for them."

Tyrion gazed at him for a few seconds, then smiled softly.

"Look at us - two lions serving wolves and dragons. We've come a long road since we've been here the last time. Father would be proud." He didn't manage to bite his tongue before mentioning their father; he remembered all too well how it had ended the last time he had said the exact same words. He could only hope this time it will be different.

Jaime looked at him silently, thinking. Tyrion believed they both had traveled so far; but it could also be said, and would definitely be said by their sister and father were they here, that they had fallen really far. There was now a question - how did Jaime himself see it all? Had they traveled or had they fallen?

He had three roads to go, from which one had already been chosen against when he had left King's Landing. He could still make a choice between cutting ties with every living member of his family and becoming a lone lion, or finally forgiving his brother and adopting Tyrion's point of view. So... had they traveled, or had they fallen? Some Lannister pride was fighting in him for a moment, refusing to fully acknowledge the utter defeat of their family, opting for the former option. However, his pride was no longer important and he was willing to acknowledge with certainty that he had been falling all those past years, standing blindly and stubbornly beside Cersei. Maybe he should have truly seen through her right after Joffrey's murder; yet, he hadn't, continuing his decline instead, letting her hatred poison his heart as well. He should have done so many things... It was now too late to turn back the time, but there were still some things he could change.

They had come a long road indeed.

"I take full responsibility for my actions as well," Tyrion continued after not receiving any answer for quite a while. "I know what I've done, I also know you'll never forgive me and that I will never be able to repay you for what you've been doing for me all my life. But if we're both here, looking at the end of the world from the same side of the audience, taking responsibilities for our sins..." he paused for a moment, glaring in the distance, then suddenly looked Jaime straight in the eyes. "I don't want us to end like this."

"So what do you want?" Jaime's tone was far different than when he had asked Tyrion the same question in the King's Landing dungeons. The younger man immediately sensed it and decided to seize the opportunity, as it might go away and never return if he didn't use it properly.

"I want us to be like we used to," he said honestly, hope shining in his eyes. It was all he wanted at the moment. "I want us to be brothers again. In a Stark-ish meaning of this word, not any other. The wolves know how to be siblings," he chuckled but immediately grew serious again.

Jaime discovered there was not much left of the hostilities he had experienced towards Tyrion before. Or maybe... maybe they had truly never been there, arising only from Cersei's influence? He had loved their father, of course, be he couldn't have been blind to what kind of a person Tywin Lannister had been or how he had treated Tyrion. And, truth be told, Jaime had always loved Tyrion more. Now, no longer obliged by his faithful devotion towards Cersei, he saw things clearer. In the last few days, he had managed to reshuffle his priorities and redefine family love all over again. They were still a family. Maybe lone lion would have a slight chance for survival, but the pack of two? Who knew how it could go?

He was more or less a free man now, and he was going to make his own decisions. Finally.

He walked up to Tyrion and knelt on one knee before his brother to face him on his own level.

"You're my little brother and I'll love and protect you until my dying day. That didn't change and never will. We're all that's left now, you and me." Not so long before, he had told the same thing to Cersei. They had shared this phrase a lot of times, but it had never been the truth, even if it had seemed like it. Now, Cersei was the lone lion and Jaime didn't pity her in the slightest. There was no positive feeling left in his heart for her. She had ruined everything in his life, she had ruined him, she would not ruin his relationship with Tyrion. Over his dead body.

Tyrion's expression made Jaime's heart squeeze painfully. Tyrion looked overwhelmed with joy and relief, his eyes sparkling like it was the best thing he had ever heard, the thing he had been waiting to hear for many years. Without saying a word he closed the gap between them and embraced Jaime. After only a second-long hesitation Jaime returned the hug, realizing he needed it as well. He had missed his little brother, although he hadn't wanted to admit it even to himself, drowning in hate. Hate that was contagious and spread in King's Landing like a wildfire, its seedbed being their dear sister.

They remained like that for quite some time, transferring all their longing for each other into the hug. People passing them by gazed at them uneasily, but they didn't even see it, slowly, steadily realizing that they were going to be brothers again.

Finally, Tyrion stepped back and exhaled a happy sigh.

"Welcome to Winterfell, brother!" He smiled widely, feeling like a completely changed person. A person who had been forgiven, at least partially. "I know it didn't treat you especially well as far, but, hopefully, it will change now."

Jaime chuckled and straightened up.

"If I survive the patrol with Tormund," he noticed.

Tyrion grimaced.

"Yes, that is a slight inconvenience," he admitted. "But that's tomorrow. From the more pressing concerns, do you have any place to sleep?"

"I do," Jaime answered before fully analyzing the answer. In fact, he didn't have a place to sleep, because he couldn't stay where he had been the last night. He couldn't and Brienne definitely wouldn't propose such indecency. Last night had been different - he had been unconscious, she had been his savior. This night... this night they would both be all too conscious.

He should have asked Tyrion for a place in his chamber, but before he managed to do so Tyrion looked behind his shoulder and smiled apologetically.

"I have to go back," he said sadly. "I'm still treading the unsure ground for withholding important information. I need to be the obedient and helpful Hand right now."

"Of course." Jaime nodded, deciding not to bother Tyrion with his sleeping accommodations. He will handle. "But before you go..." he started hesitantly, "...why didn't you tell Daenerys about the child?"

He needed to know that.

Tyrion hesitated, his eyes sweeping the floor.

"Because for once I was actually trying to protect you," he said quietly and, without looking back at Jaime, walked away.


A/N: The reunion between Jaime and Tyrion wasn't the easiest to write, but I definitely had to do that. I love the relationship between the Lannister brothers even more than Jaime and Bronn's bromance. Hope you enjoyed it!