Zhea

She was really starting to hate Brienne. After nearly three hours on the road, Brienne still was upset about Renly's death. Zhea wasn't happy about it either. She had been spending a lovely time in bed with Margaery when she heard the guards shouting and a cry through the camp. The racket made her leap out of bed and dress before running to her own tent. Nobody saw her in the chaos. Ten minutes later, she was fully packed, and Catelyn Stark burst into her tent with Brienne.

"We need to go," she told Zhea, turning tail immediately after. Brienne stood there a moment longer, sobbed, and then followed her.

Zhea was in a pair of breeches and one of Loras's tunics, he had given it to her on the first day, and she held onto it and was ready to leave in the dark. Catelyn was already saddling the final horse when Zhea caught up to them; meanwhile, Brienne wasn't crying anymore.

"How's she doing?" Zhea had asked Catelyn quietly as they all left the camp.

Catelyn shook her head solemnly. "She's grieving a lost love."

Zhea had some sympathy for the poor woman, but irritation struck her early on as Brienne began muttering about the 'shadow' that killed Renly.

"It looked like Stannis," Brienne repeated as they watered their mounts. The sun was high in the sky, and Zhea was exhausted from riding all night.

"To me it just looked like a shadow in the shape of a man," Catelyn told her.

"If it was a shadow you saw, then it might've been the Red Witch," Zhea commented off-handedly. "She's been poisoning his mind with her evil words. I tell you, never trust a person from Asshai." Zhea was crouched before a pile of tinder and stroked it with a stick, feeding it occasionally. She looked up at Catelyn calmly walking to her horse.

"We should reach my son's camp tomorrow," she informed.

"Will you stay there long, my ladies?" Brienne led her mare from the river and tied her by Zhea's gelding.

"Only long enough to tell Robb what I have seen," said Catelyn. "After that, I will leave for Winterfell. My two youngest need me. I've been away from them for far too long."

"I'll stay as long as Robb will have me." Zhea longed to see Robb, to hold him in her arms again. She knew that he had grown up so much in the year and a half since she's seen him, but he would still be the boy she patched up in the middle of the night. "I've missed him so."

"I never knew my mother." commented Brienne.

"I'm sorry. My own mother died on the birthing bed when I was very young." Catelyn fingered her wineskin absentmindedly.

"Mine died when I was eleven," Zhea added. Catelyn looked at her, surprised. She had never been one to share personal stories. Anything dear to her she kept to herself, and only lighthearted tales were told between kids.

"It's a bloody business," Brienne said about motherhood.

"What comes after is even harder."

"Once you're safely back amongst your own people, will you give me leave to go, my lady?" Brienne, Zhea noticed, was a stern person. She did not smile, nor did she tell tall tales or lie. Honorable would be another word to describe her. Honorable to a fault.

"You mean to kill Stannis."

"I swore a vow."

"But Stannis has a great army around him. His own guards are sworn to keep him safe."

"I'm as good as any of them."

"That's mighty confident of you," Zhea interrupted. "You may be able to best one or two of them, but you'd never last alone against more than three."

"I don't need to survive, just kill Stannis." Brienne said, mulishly. "I should never have fled."

"Renly's death was no fault of yours," Catelyn said firmly. "You served him bravely."

Zhea stood up. She had had enough conversation and was ready to get back to riding. Her horse stamped the ground anxiously as she came up to him, but she hushed him and ran a hand along his neck soothingly. She pressed her face against his neck and once more lost herself in dreams of life in King's Landing.

In which Ned was still alive, and the kingdom was thriving. She was still going down to the pub every night to have a drink and a chat with Jaime, whom she could barely remember. Maybe Oberyn would come north for a visit. He'd get along with Ned perfectly, and she'd finally be able to see him. Maybe Sansa would–

"Zhea! We're leaving soon." Brienne's call startled her out of her fantasies, and Zhea was brought back to reality where Ned was dead, and Oberyn was in Dorne. Gods, she hated reality.

Zhea adjusted the girth on her horse and mounted. Catelyn approached and spoke to her as Zhea adjusted the stirrups for their long trip,

"Brienne is my sworn sword," she informed. "Once we return to camp, she will come North with me to Winterfell. Would you care to join us?"

Zhea shook her head. "I have to return to the capital for Sansa." Catelyn nodded and rode away.

The ride was long and exhausting. Occasionally, Zhea would let her horse graze as they walked. They encountered no trouble on the road and managed make camp safely for the night. Brienne took the first watch, and she took the second. The next day they only rode for a few hours before the camp came into view.

While not nearly as beautiful and clean as Renly's, it was twice as busy. Squires carried weapons to and from tent to tent. Soldier ate their meals talking about past battles and life back home. Women were busy tending to the injured or setting up more tents for the soldiers, and in the midst of it all was their king.

Zhea saw his hair first. It was longer than she remembered. Then she saw the rest of him. As she expected, he had grown into a strong, well-defined man even under all the furs. The woman he spoke to was foreign and held a letter close to herself.

"Robb!" Catelyn said eagerly and broke up the conversation casually.

"Mother," Robb replied in kind. He hugged her tightly and looked over his shoulder. "Zhea!"

He released his mother with a kiss and wrapped Zhea in his arms. She returned the hug tightly and buried her face into his neck, inhaling deeply.

"You still smell like the North," Zhea said softly.

Robb laughed. "I smell like dirt and sweat."

"That you do, but you also smell like the North." Zhea eyed the woman he was speaking to. "Aren't you going to introduce us?"

"Yes," Robb said, leaping back. "Mother, Zhea, this is Lady Talisa. She's been helping with the wounded. She's been very helpful."

"Lady Talisa."

"Lady Stark." Talisa nodded to Zhea as well.

"Lady Talisa…?" Catelyn trailed off, waiting for her to finish.

"Maegyr."

Catelyn repeated the name. "Forgive me, I do not know this name."

"An uncommon name here. An old name in Volantis."

"Volantis? I am from YiTi," Zhea said kindly. "A strange place this is."

"Yes. Very much," Talisa smiled. "Excuse me, my lady. Your grace."

Zhea watched Robb stare after her as she left. His eyes were glued to his figure, and a wistful look came over him. He was falling for her, hard.

"Tell me, Robb, how has life as a king been?" Zhea tugged on his arm and led him away. "Did you wonder where I was?"

"No one had seen you since before father's death," Robb said. "It was assumed you were dead. Then, I got a raven months later from Renly's camp."

"What a surprise that must have been." Zhea held his face him her hands. "You're older. You've got a beard, and I see something here." She traced the creases around his eyes, mouth, and up across his forehead. Pressing a thumb on the fold between his brows she frowned at him. "You worry too much, my king."

"As king, that is my job." Robb removed her hand and wrapped his arm around her again. "Now shoo. I must speak with my mother."

"Before you go. Where are you keeping the Kingslayer." Jaime. Zhea had completely forgotten about him until Margaery brought up his capture. It intrigued Zhea for a day but was ultimately forgotten underneath all the glitz and glam of Renly's camp. Riding back with Brienne and Catelyn brought him back to the forefront of her mind. She couldn't imagine him–hold him in her mind's eye and picture him as a prisoner. She needed to see him.

"Over on the far side of camp. It's not as safe over there, would you like an escort?"

"I'll be fine."

Zhea walked through the camp and tried to ignore the looks she got. She pulled the hood of her cloak over her head. This was nothing new, she told herself. A few months away from people had spoiled her. In Dragonstone, she was loved by the only person who saw her. In Renly's camp, she never went anywhere without a Tyrell. But she was back in the North as an outsider.

She rounded a corner of pots over fires and saw him. He was unrecognizable under layers of dirt and shit. A beard adorned his once clean-shaven face and long greasy hair framed his face. Zhea was appalled at his treatment. He didn't notice her when she approached his cage but looked up when she opened it.

Jaime's eyes froze when they saw her.

"Hey," Zhea said softly, kneeling in front of him. "It stinks in here."

Jaime said nothing.

"Heard you lost against Robb," Zhea tried again. When she received no response, she shook her head and started over.

"Jaime, how have you been treated?" Her voice was heartfelt, and her eyes were begging for him to give her something.

He breathed out. "About what you would expect as Jaime Lannister, the Kingslayer who hurt the honorable Ned Stark. I mean they really love him up here. What was so great about him?"

"You said it yourself. He was honorable."

"Honorable?" Jaime scoffed. "Do they not see how being honorable ends? Yes, Ned Stark was an honorable man, but he's also dead."

"And are you an honorable man?"

"They call me the Kingslayer," Jaime deadpanned. "Ned Stark despised me, and up here they just follow his lead."

"I think you are." Zhea continued, "I think deep down you are an honorable man, but you don't make honorable decisions because you want to live... And because we cannot chose who we love."

Jaime remained silent.

"Do you know what they say about you? They say you are the father of the royal children. Is this true?"

Jaime looked away and sighed. "Before there was anyone else in the world, there was Cersei, and there was me. She was all I knew as a boy, and she was all I loved. She loved me no matter what and would reason with me when I developed doubts. 'Targaryeans wed brother and sister for generations,' she would say.

"I love Cersei. She is a cruel, hateful woman, but I love her, and she loves me. I became a member of the Kingsguard for her. I fought and killed for her. I–" He broke off. "I pushed a child out of a window for her."

Zhea breathed in sharply.

"Yes." Jaime hung his head on his filthy chest and breathed in his stench. "And I think about it often. I would burn the world for Cersei but the look on his face when he fell…"

"Bran had a future," Zhea said, standing up. "He wanted to be like you–a knight in the Kingsguard. So much of a role model you turned out to be."

"Zhea…"

"What has Cersei done for you? You listed everything you have done for her, so what has she done for you?"

Jaime

She came back that night. Jaime had seen her walking around and ordering squires and handmaidens into the tent next to his cage. His cage. When she had entered his cage all his previous nonchalance faded, and what replaced it was embarrassment. The embarrassment that he was sitting in his shit for days upon days. That she had seen him at his best, and was now looking at him at his worst. Weak. That's what he was.

Somehow, seeing Zhea after a year and a half of separation made her beautiful. Maybe it was because she was someone from his old life, or because, for once, he wasn't looking at a Stark or another Northman, but seeing her was breathtaking. All the awe he initially felt faded as she crouched before him, and when she left, hatred filled that spot. Had she no sway with the boy she grew up with? Could she not bargain for his well-being? Why was he still in this horrendous cage while someone who respected him waltzed around outside?

Anger filled his body as she approached him. Anger and then confusion. She walked past him, unbound him from the pole, and took the chains, pulling him towards the tent next door. Jaime was surprised to see a cot, a desk with a burning candle, and a tub full of steaming water.

"Promise you won't run away?" Zhea asked softly as she uncuffed his hands and neck. Jaime hung his head and was slow in undressing. Lack of use had stiffened his limbs, and he was beginning to feel old. How he detested feeling old. Dropping his shirt at his feet, his pants joined them, and he was stark naked.

Zhea ushered him into the tub and pushed him until he was completely submerged. Once he was thoroughly soaked, she lathered her hands in soap and ran them through his greasy hair. Slowly Jaime felt the dirt and grime leave him, and he gave into her grip. The sensation of her massaging his scalp was heaven to him, and he closed his eyes and felt himself give in. She rinsed out his hair and had him lean forward so she could scrub his neck and shoulders before moving onto his back.

"I'm sure the king was none too happy about this," Jaime commented as he leaned back.

Zhea hesitated before beginning to clean Jaime's chest. "What he doesn't know won't kill him."

"I think he'll notice I look cleaner the next time he comes to visit," said Jaime, a slight grin tugging on the corners of his lips.

"Well, if he asks," Zhea leaned in and paused in her scrubbing (Jaime didn't hate the way her hand rested on him), "send his ass to me. I'll deal with it."

Jaime chuckled, and Zhea resumed. The water was cold, and Jaime was shivering by the time she finished. He left the tub and went to put on his clothes when she stopped him.

"No, don't wear those dirty clothes," she protested. "Here, take these. I stole them from Robb. He won't notice."

"I'm sure he will." Jaime took the clothes and dressed, no longer feeling awkward around Zhea. She cleaned the cuffs slightly and frowned at him.

"These need to go back on, I'm afraid," Zhea said sadly. "Come here."

Once he was cuffed and restored to his status as a prisoner, Zhea sat him on the bed rather than return him to his crate.

"She married Robert," Jaime said quietly. "That's what she's done for me. She married that oaf so she could live in the capital with me."

"I'm pretty sure she married him so she could be the queen," Zhea said.

He didn't say anything but allowed his body to fall on Zhea so she was supporting his full weight. Giggling, she pushed him off her so he flopped back onto the cot.

"Thank you for this," he said, genuine for the first time. "This is the first time in nearly a year that I have felt like a human. Are you staying in this tent?"

"Mhm," she leaned back so they were side by side, their feet still touching the ground.

"But the smell–"

"It's not that bad."

Jaime stayed silent. She was lying. He knew because he could smell his cage from here mand he could smell it in the bath. What did he do to deserve this?

"We weren't that close, so why? Why are you doing this?"

Zhea turned on her side and curled her legs up onto the cot. "Because you were my only friend in the Capital. Ned was a guardian, and the girls were charges, but you were my only equal. I'd like to be that for you."

"I pushed that boy out the window," protested Jaime, weakly. "I took away his future."

"I know you did," Zhea interrupted. "But we don't need to talk about it tonight."

After that, Jaime was reluctantly returned to his cage and fell asleep. He dreamt of Zhea and her soft hands, running them along his back and sides. They lingered on his chest, and he felt a pair of warm lips kiss him upon the chest gently but when he looked down he didn't see the pair of kind brown eyes he was expecting, but cold blue ones.

"Say hello to your son, Jaime," Zhea's voice said through Cersei's lips. Her eyes glittered menacingly as she leaned back and pulled his hand to her stomach.

Jaime trembled in fear at the wild movement he felt before a sword pierced her stomach.

"He takes after you," cooed Cersei, her voice melding with Zhea's.

Jaime awoke with a start to see a Stark soldier holding out half a bowl of slop and a stale piece of bread. Taking it from his trembling hands, he was amused as the boy ran away shouting things. He enjoyed his breakfast while he could, but as more Northmen crowded around his cage, Jaime grew uncomfortable. He started shouting things into the crowd, seeing whom it would stick to the most, and it wasn't long before the King in the North was called.

"What is this?" he demanded. "What is this I hear about the Kingslayer clean and dressed in new clothes?"

"Your Grace, the Karstark boy just found him like this when he went to give the prisoner breakfast–"

"Your Grace," Jaime bowed his head mockingly and smirked up at the infuriated man. Robb's eyes narrowed once he saw what he was wearing. "Do you like my new clothes?"

"Leave me alone with the prisoner, and somebody find Zhea!" The soldiers dispersed, leaving the king alone with the Kingslayer. "I assure you Kingslayer, this is will not be happening again. Somebody seems to have forgotten what you are. Zhea."

Zhea nodded in greeting. "My king. What is the reason for this. I was having a very pleasant conversation with Lady Talisa over breakfast."

"Did you do this?" Robb accused.

"Did I do what? Let him bathe? Give him your old clothes? Yes. I did." Zhea jutted her chin up in defiance and narrowed her eyes at Robb.

"He is a prisoner of the crown. He does not get baths or fresh linens. See to it this never happens again or I will have you chained with him."

Zhea scoffed. "You would imprison me for cleaning a man of his shit?"

"I would imprison you for obeying a direct order from your king," growled Robb before stalking off. Zhea shrugged comically at Jaime before leaving as if nothing had happened. Meanwhile, Jaime watched the affair with bored eyes and a smirk while internally fearing the worst.

Would Zhea admit she was wrong for showing him kindness? Would she take everything back and curse his name, spitting into the ground? It appears not.

Jaime leaned his head back and allowed himself to drift off once more. There wasn't much else for him to do. This time he dreamt of nothing.

Zhea

Catelyn Stark was not the woman she pretended to be. She was cunning, selfish, and proud. Zhea thought this as she walked with her to Jaime's cage in the dark of the night. She thought this when she sent the guard away in the name of her son, and she thought this when she came to her with her plan.

Jaime had just murdered the Karstark boy hours earlier and was settled into a different part of the camp. Zhea hadn't seen him since for fear of angering Robb further and had kept close to Lady Talisa. Zhea had been through some training with Maester Luwin, but speaking with Talisa was enlightening in a new way. She was learning more than basic theory. Talisa had experience treating men in the field and was recounting a particularly nasty amputation when Catelyn had solicited them.

"I need your help," she said desperately once they were alone. Zhea didn't know what to say. "Jaime Lannister will not last through the night and Robb is sure to execute him once he returns from the Crag, but you know as well as I that he is our only way of getting my daughters back. That is why I want to release him."

"Pardon?" Zhea was flabbergasted by the proposition. "You would release your son's most valuable pawn in the war because you think the Kingslayer will send your daughters back to you–if they're still alive–once he is safe in the capital?"

"It's risky, but that is why I want to send you and Brienne. You're headed south anyway, are you not? You can accompany Jaime and see to it that he returns the girls. Brienne will be your guard. She will keep you both safe."

"And how far are we to go to make sure he returns safely? Would I have to kill Stark soldiers who track us down?"

"If it gets the girls back, you must do everything in your power," Catelyn was stern. "I plan to release him tonight with or without you. Be ready."

Zhea thought she was mad. Catelyn was so fixated on getting her daughters back that she was forgetting about her son. This sort of rash action was what started the war, to begin with. If she hadn't taken Tyrion hostage Ned Stark might still be alive.

"Do you think this is the right move?" Zhea asked Brienne lowly as Catelyn spoke to Jaime.

"It doesn't matter. I obey my lady even if I don't agree with her," Brienne replied, candidly.

Zhea rolled her eyes. Brienne would never voice her qualms with Catelyn, so Zhea kept quiet too.

"So many vows," Jaime drawled. "They make you swear and swear. Defend the king, obey the king, obey your father, protect the innocent, defend the weak. What if your father despises the king? What if the king massacres the innocent? It's too much. No matter what you do, you're forsaking one vow or another.

"Where did you find this beast?"

Zhea looked down at her feet, concealing a grin at the offhanded comment Jaime pettily threw at Brienne.

"She is a truer knight than you will ever be, Kingslayer."

"Kingslayer. What a king he was. Here's to Aerys Targaryean, second of his name, Lord of the Seven Kingdoms, Protector of the Realm, and to the sword I shoved in his back."

"You're a man without honor," spat Catelyn.

"Do you know, I've never been with any woman but Cersei," Jaime said making Zhea shift uncomfortably. "So in my own way, I have more honor than poor old dead Ned. What was the name of that bastard he fathered?"

"Enough," snapped Zhea, done with waiting. She was sick of all the waiting she had to do. Waiting for the guards to collect her for Shireen, waiting for Robb to collect her from Storm's End. No more.

"No, no, let me finish," Jaime said easily. "Now when good old Ned came home with some whore's baby, did you pretend to love it? No, you're not very good at pretending. You're an honest woman. You hated that boy didn't you?"

"Catelyn," Zhea urged, turning to the woman. "Let's go."

"The walking, talking reminder," Jaime carried on, "that the honorable Lord Eddard Stark fucked another woman."

"Your sword," Catelyn ordered from Brienne.

"Oh, for fuck's sake," Zhea spun around and marched out of the cage, tapping her foot impatiently. She heard the breaking of chains and a grunt as Jaime was pulled to his feet. He was dirty again, she noticed. It had been a while since she bathed him, and he was covered in filth again. His face was blistered from being in the sun, Zhea added to herself. He'd need to get that healed.

"Let's go," Brienne said stoically. She gripped Jaime by the arm tightly and forced a burlap sack over his head.

"Is this really necessary?" groaned Jaime.

Zhea snatched him from Brienne's grip and, with a glare at the giant woman, marched Jaime to where their horses were tied at the outskirts of the camp. Jaime complained the whole time about the smell of the bag and the lack of vision. Brienne was also mentioned a few times as he made strange comments about her. He often contrasted the monstrosity of Brienne with Zhea's elegance, and she smacked him upside the head a few times.

When they mounted their horses, Zhea tied her horse to his and his hands to his saddle and followed Brienne through the trees. They galloped as fast as they could until their horses were near collapse before slowing to a walk. The sun was breaking the horizon, and the silence the trio held was broken by the twittering of larks in the trees.

Brienne heard a river a few leagues ahead, and so they rode to the river and let go of the horses. Zhea pulled the sack off Jaime's head harshly and watched as he adjusted to the light. Cuts littered his face, but it didn't phase him.

"I'm glad to have seen you before I saw the other one," he said. Receiving no reply he went on, "She's much uglier in daylight, you realize? What is her name? I'm Jaime Lannister of Casterly Rock, son of Tywin. You're Zhea from somewhere across the Narrow Sea–I do expect to hear of how you managed to make it over here."

Brienne pulled Jaime from Zhea's kinder grip and marched him towards the river where a rowboat was waiting for them.

"A captive knight has the right to know his captors identity," Jaime carried on, a bit tighter as Brienne was much more rigid.

"Brienne of Tarth," uttered the woman.

"Tarth, Tarth, Tarth. Crecent moons and starbursts. Lord… Selwyn Tarth. Your father." Zhea hid a snort at Jaime's pronunciation of Selwyn; he had dragged it out in a manner of remembering and jeering. "Do you have any brothers and sisters, my lady? It's a long way to King's Landing. Might as well get to know one another."

"I can start," Zhea piped up.

"Oh, we already know enough about you," Jaime put her off. "No, Brienne. Zhea and I will crack you.

"Have you known many men? I suppose not. Women? Horses–ah!" Brienne forced him to his knees. "I didn't mean to give offense, my lady. Forgive me."

"Your crimes are past forgiveness, Kingslayer," Brienne whispered, eyeing the man and cart crossing the bridge downstream.

"Why do you hate me so much? Have I ever harmed you?"

"You've harmed others, those you were sworn to protect, the weak, the innocent–"

"Has anyone ever told you you're as boring as you are ugly?" Jaime cried out again as she pulled him to his knees.

"You will not provoke me to anger."

"How utterly boring," Zhea said under her breath.

"What she said!" Jaime grinned. Brienne snarled and pulled him to the river's edge as Zhea fetched the boat. "We already have! Look at you. You're ready to chop my head off and send her back to Robb. Do you think you could? Do you think you could beat me in a fair fight?"

"I've never seen you fight."

"The answer is no. There are three men in the Seven Kingdoms who might have a chance against me. You're not one of them."

Zhea positioned the boat as Brienne shot back a response, "All my life men like you have sneered at me. And all my life, I've been knocking men like you into the dust."

"If you're so confident unlock my chains," pestered Jaime.

"Get the fuck in." Zhea sat in the front of the boat and held out the oar for Brienne. Jaime was pushed into the spot behind her, and Brienne was in the back as they floated down the river.

Jaime never let up. "I took you for a fighter," he said to an earlier comment, "a man–pardon–woman of honor, was I wrong? You're afraid." Zhea grinned at Brienne as she leaned against the front of the boat, Jaime's head in her lap as they taunted and poked fun at the woman protecting them.

Zhea was doing this for a laugh. She liked Jaime and didn't appreciate Brienne's sour puss attitude towards them, so she enjoyed the entertainment. As the time when on, she stopped concealing her laughter and chuckled at the comments Jaime made about her. Zhea never outwardly insulted Brienne, but she strayed close to it.

"You two are a pain in my ass."

"Much obliged."