note: CONTENT WARNING: THIS CHAPTER CONTAINS ELEMENTS OF RAPE AND ATTEMPTED RAPE. READ AT YOUR OWN RISK. (It begins at Jaime's POV)

Brienne

Zhea made Brienne feel small. It's true she was beautiful and graceful. The way she took down the men with her–what'd she call it? Rope dart! The way she took down the Stark soldiers with her rope dart made Brienne in awe of her. Sure, she took down just as many, but, in the end, she looked like a beast swinging a sword. She looked like a goddess drawing men in and killing them when they least expected it.

She watched disdainfully as Brienne shoveled the last pile of dirt onto the grave and wiped her dagger onto the bodies of the Stark soldiers. Disrespectful, Brienne thought.

"Can we start moving?" Jaime asked from where Brienne had tied him.

Zhea got up and untied him. "Yes, please."

Brienne was sick of these two feeding off each other. Gods, could she have nothing go her way? Zhea only egged Jaime on with his teasing and cruel jokes. Brienne was almost positive that the two would've been dead by now if it weren't for her. They couldn't take anything seriously.

"Let's go."

They walked through fields of cows and sheep and some that were empty as they avoided the Kingsroad. Sometimes Zhea would wander off leaving Brienne alone with Jaime. Then she'd return hours later with her mouth full of berries. How she managed to keep up with them was an amazement to Brienne.

"How do you keep finding food and not sharing," Jaime asked her as she returned from yet another quest.

"It's a gift," she shrugged and popped the last blackberry into his mouth. He hummed appreciatively.

Brienne wished she would leave him alone. She thought her and Zhea might have some valuable information they could talk about. What it was like being a woman with a weapon in Westeros. Maybe some survival techniques. Nope. Zhea, graceful with a dagger and snarky in attitude was determined to stay on the Kingslayer's side.

"Do you know how long it's going to take us to get to King's Landing walking through fields and forests?" Jaime asked after they struggled to get through a particularly thick bramble.

"Yes," snapped Brienne. She glared at the sheep who bleated mockingly at her as she stumbled from the bush.

"So how shall we pass the time?"

"By putting one foot in front of the other."

"It's going to be a very dull walk," Zhea whined.

"I'm here to take him to King's Landing and bring back Lady's Stark's daughters in exchange," Brienne said matter of factly. "Dull is fine."

"You know it doesn't matter how loyal a servant you are," Jaime said, stopping short. He wasn't fazed when Brienne shoved him forward. "No one enjoys the company of a humourless mute. Trust me on this. People have been serving me since I was born."

"We get it, you're a Lannister," Zhea said dramatically.

"Enough out of you. Do you think Lady Stark is going to want a giant towheaded plank following her around for the rest of her life? A week's journey with you and she'll order you to fall on your sword."

Brienne was not amused. "If Lady Stark is unhappy with any aspect of my service, I'm sure she'll let me know. She's an honest woman."

"All the good it's done her. Stop here, I need a piss."

"Elegant." Zhea's comments were short and unhelpful, and Brienne found herself hoping she'd get lost on one of her little adventures.

Brienne was once again left alone with Jaime as Zhea just walked away. This was one of the worst experiences of her life.

Zhea

She never went far when she left Jaime and Brienne. Every time she left them Zhea made sure she could still hear Jaime's yammering. It was a wonder he didn't run out of insults. He was creative when he wanted to be. At this very moment, Zhea was crotched by a rabbit she had caught (she was very handy at throwing knives) and giggled to herself as Jaime taunted Brienne's crush on Renly. She stayed out of sight of the two as they kept walking and skinned the rabbit as she roamed. Multitasking was another skill of hers.

"You weren't his type. I'm afraid. He preferred curly-haired little girls like Loras Tyrell. You're much too man for him." Zhea skipped up alongside them and dangled the rabbit in front of them.

"I'm not interested in foul rumors," she ignored Zhea's antics and kept on Jaime's heels.

"They weren't rumors," Zhea cackled. "Trust me on that one."

"Oh yes, his proclivities were the worst kept secret at court," Jaime added. "It's a shame the throne isn't made out of cocks. They'd have never got him off it!"

"Shut your mouth!" Brienne pulled him back by the hair and held him close.

"I don't blame him, and I don't blame you either," Jaime said, still and serious. "We don't get to chose who we love."

"That's great to hear seeing as I fucked his wife," Zhea added as she played with the rabbit's feet she chopped off. She had since tucked the skinned rabbit into her bag and was sewing the feet she stuffed with fur shut with a needle and thread she had packed for wounds.

Jaime and Brienne turned at stared at Zhea with astonished looks. Jaime wriggled out of Brienne's grip and grabbed the YiTish woman by the shoulders.

"What did you just say?" His eyes were wide and crazy, and his words were breathy, not quite believing what he heard.

"I thought we were bonding, so I took the opportunity to make a little confession," Zhea brushed him off and froze at the sight of a man walking a horse. She turned away, hiding her face with her hood and focusing on her rabbit's foot. Praying that the man didn't see her face she let Jaime and Brienne deal with him.

"Where are you headed then?" he asked, halting and staring at them.

"South. You?" Jaime hid behind Brienne ensuring his shackles were concealed.

"Riverrun. Staying off the Kingsroad are you? They get you no matter where you go. You can't win."

"No you really can't." Jaime managed to pull it off coolly, but Brienne was rigid, hostile.

"Looks like you're safe enough though. Meaning no offense, my lady, but I wouldn't tangle with you," he called to Brienne. They all laughed fakely. "Seven blessings to you."

"And you." Brienne and Jaime stared after him as he left.

"He knows who I am. Zhea, come on," Jaime whispered to them both.

"He doesn't–Zhea don't move." Brienne articulated stubbornly.

"Maybe you're right, what if you're not? What if he tells someone? Zhea go on now."

"We're not doing it. Zhea, do not move."

"I'm for killing him, in case you were wondering," Zhea hissed.

"He's an innocent man," Brienne protested.

"More innocent that Lady Stark's daughters?" A low blow, but Jaime was right. Zhea knew that sooner or later they would be found, but if they let that man go, it was guaranteed to be sooner. Brienne pushed Jaime forward, and they continued on their journey.

Zhea didn't stray from them as they went further. She wanted to make as much distance as she could today since sleeping would be dangerous here on out. They came across a river a few hours later that they followed to a bridge. It was a difficult decision to make. Jaime outlined it perfectly: take the bridge and risk being seen, or take the river and face the mighty waters.

Brienne chose the bridge.

It was overgrown beautifully, Zhea thought to herself. Some flowers grew in the grass between rocks and the sounds of the water were soothing uging Zhea to let her guard down. That is until Jaime sat down against the bridge.

"I need to rest," he grunted.

Brienne was panicky but tried miserably to remain stern, "Get up."

"I have these, you know, on your feet when you walk too far," Jaime protested. "What do you call them."

"Not funny, Jaime. Get up," Zhea snapped. She was worried about being so visible. "We need to go, now."

"Corns," Jaime looked up at her innocently. "I never used to get corns. Of course, I used to ride everywhere. Not march around like a common foot soldier wearing the same shit boots for over a year."

Brienne was just as anxious as she was, whipping her head around like an owl.

"This–this heel is ruined. There's no way–" Brienne bent down and tried to lug him up as he stalled. but he managed to grab her sword and slice the tether between them.

Jaime laughed in triumph and flipped the sword around in his hands. "I never understood why some knights felt the need to carry two swords," he said as Brienne unsheathed her sword.

Zhea grinned and took out her twin blades. She sat on the edge of the bridge, blades in hand, and watched Jaime and Brienne. The former was quite casual about the situation, like usual, as he walked around and oohed as Brienne followed his movements. He tested the waters, almost trying to gauge Brienne's skill against her own.

"You move well," he commented, as she kept up with him, "for a great beast of a woman."

The two ran up and down the bridge fighting as Jaime kept up well for a half-starved man. He would point out flaws in her fighting, and they would keep at it, forgetting that they were exposed. Zhea tried to keep an eye on the fighting, but was much too concerned about everything else. As the two went at it, she stayed vigilant.

"Knock it off!" Zhea shouted as she heard hoofbeats in the woods, but it was too late. Three men holding Bolton flags rode up to them; more followed but hung back.

Brienne and Jaime looked up and backed away from each other slowly.

"Looks like your woman's getting the better of you," the man in the middle observed. "If you can call that a woman."

"We enjoy a good fight," Jaime said calmly. "Gets our juices flowing."

"Ew."

Zhea eyed the sigil on their flags carefully as Jaime pointed them out. "A bit gruesome for my taste."

"You sure he's the one?" The leader asked.

"That's him all right," the old man they spoke with earlier was pulled to the front. Zhea saw Brienne wince slightly. "I saw him fight at the tourney for Ser Willem Frey's wedding."

"Give the man his silver."

Jaime spun around slowly and glared knowingly at Brienne. Zhea rolled her eyes and sheathed her swords-in her mind there was no use fighting.

"Let us go, and my father will pay you whatever you want," Jaime said, defeatedly.

"Enough to buy me a new head? If the King in the North hears I had the Kingslayer and let him go, he'd be taking it right off. I'd rather he takes yours."

"Five men," Zhea groaned. "Brienne knock it off. We're dead."

Jaime

Of all people to share a horse with, the last person Jaime wanted to be with was Brienne, but of course, nothing went his way anymore. Zhea was bound to the back of the leader's horse, and she looked extremely uncomfortable the entire time. A slight protectiveness came over him when he saw the way all the men eyed her up. He was disgusted by their libidos and wished nothing more than to be armed and at full strength so he could kick their asses.

Once they all got on their horses and joined the other men who hung back (They never stood a chance, to begin with. Zhea was right), Jaime almost protested at being separated from Zhea but he knew it would do nothing but harm. The soldiers sang loudly without any fear as they continued down the Kingsroad. Oh, to be the one people feared once more.

"I hope you're pleased," Jaime said sarcastically. "If you had armed me, they never would've taken us."

"You were armed when we were taken," Brienne snapped back.

"I was in chains if you recall. Our little match would've ended quite quick if my hands weren't bound."

"All my life I've been hearing, 'Jaime Lannister, what a brilliant swordsman.' You were slower than I expected."

Jaime couldn't see Brienne's face, but he could feel the smugness radiating off her.

"And more predictable," she added as an afterthought.

"I've been sitting in a muddy pen wrapped in chains for the past year."

"And I'm a woman. I was still beating you."

"You were not beating me."

"Maybe you were as good as people said… once. Or maybe people just love to overpraise a famous name."

Jaime struggled to think of a response. "When we make camp tonight you'll be raped. More than once. If I'm being honest with myself, Zhea will be too. None of these fellows have ever been with a noblewoman. You would be wise not to resist."

"Would I? Would Zhea?"

"They will knock your teeth out."

"You think I care about my teeth?"

"No, I don't think you care about your teeth. If you fight them, they will kill you. Do you understand? I'm the prisoner of value, not you. Let them have what they want what does it matter?"

"What does it matter?"

"Close your eyes. Pretend they're Renly."

"If I were Zhea would you tell me not resist? Would you tell me to lie still and let them finish?"

"If you were Zhea, I'd tell you to say you're the King's sister. They'd never sacrifice their lives for a quick fuck."

"And what if it's not quick."

Jaime didn't have an answer to that. Tonight, when they made camp Zhea would be raped, and there would be nothing he could do about it. He could talk all he wanted about her relation to Robb, but it couldn't guarantee anything. Swallowing tightly, Jaime allowed himself to go away inside. He wasn't here anymore. He was with Cersei.

They were tied to three trees equidistant from one another. Zhea was furthest from the camp, and Jaime was the closest. The ropes circled their body multiple times, and their hands were bound behind their backs, making any escape impossible. All their weapons laid tauntingly between all three of them, just out of reach. Anxiety is what drew Jaime out of his thoughts.

The looks on Zhea and Brienne's faces were the same. They dreaded what came after the men finished eating, and Jaime did too. When he was a commander, he looked away at all the rapings his soldiers did. He told them to hurry up and be ready for a fight, but he never explicitly forbade anything. Suddenly he regretted not saying something.

Four men approached them, and after finished with dinner, they were ready for their second course. They eyed Zhea hungrily and turned to Brienne with a similar look in their eyes.

"I'll take the big bitch first," the leader said. "When she's good and wet, you lot can finish her off. One of you grab the little one. We can all have a go at her."

"My lord, I am Brienne of Tarth. Lady Catelyn Stark commanded me to deliver Ser Jaime to King's Landing." Jaime watched as she tried to talk her way out of her future as they pulled her around like a ragdoll. He turned to Zhea. She had gone limp, her face was blank, and she was sickly pale.

Her knees shook as she tried to keep up with the harsh pulling, and Jaime felt his stomach drop from the height of the Broken Tower. She never fought them. Brienne tried her damn hardest, but it was no use. Others had gathered, and she stood no chance. She screamed as they dragged her away.

"You know who they are, don't you?" Jaime said, giving in to the guilt and the screams–Zhea had begun her cries.

The leader turned around. Locke, Jaime believed he heard his comrades call him. "Some big dumb bitch from who cares where," Locke said in a detached tone. "Never been with a woman that big."

Jaime smirked. "The big one is Brienne of Tarth, daughter of Lord Selwyn Tarth. She hails from the Sapphire Isles. Do you know why it's called that? Every sapphire in Westeros was mined on Tarth. Sapphires are gemstones," he added when Locke didn't react. "The blue ones."

"I know what they are."

"Lord Selwyn would pay his daughter's weight in gemstones if she's returned to him. But only if she's alive, her honor unbesmirched."

"And what of the little one. She's foreign. No one to pay for her."

"No, you're wrong. Zhea was raised with the King in the North as a sister. Ned Stark took her in after the Prince of Dorne couldn't care for her. What would happen if Robb Stark heard of you raping his older sister? What would Dorne do–as a Lannister I can personally attest to the grudges they hold. Remember Princess Elia?"

Locke huffed and turned around. "Bring the big one back here!"

"What about–?"

"The blonde bitch's father could get us rich. We get nothing if the little one is saved. Nobody needs to know about what happens from here."

Jaime felt bile rise with panic in his throat. "If the Starks find out–"

"They won't. And who are they going to believe? The Kingslayer and the bitch who fled with him, or his loyal bannermen who fought side by side with him?"

Brienne was dragged back into the clearing, her face ruddy and disposition disheveled, but the screaming from Zhea only got louder. Jaime pulled helplessly at the chains as she fell silent. Probably gagged. His mind wouldn't even allow him to go away inside as he stared at the empty tree where Zhea once sat.

It felt like hours had gone by before she was returned. Her dress was torn, and her hair was matted, no longer in the single braid. She walked with a limp, and Jaime thought he saw some blood on her face, but it was hard to tell as she kept her head down behind a black curtain.

Brienne said nothing but looked at her guiltily. Jaime wanted to bash his head against the tree. How had he managed to save the person he hated and not the one whom he cared for?

"Zhea," Jaime said in a hoarse voice. No response. "Zhea please."

"Jaime," Brienne shook her head. Nothing he said could undo what happened.

Locke returned a few moments later and unlocked Jaime with a grim nod. "You've made me a rich man. I thank you."

"Letting me lay down would be a great way to show it. My back would thank you for it."

"Of course. Suppose you'll be wanting something to eat?"

"I'm famished actually," Jaime said, trying to appear unaffected by what just occurred, but he failed miserably. It was clear he was shaken.

"I think we've got a spare partridge on the fire."

"Well, I do like partridge." Jaime was escorted by Locke and two other men to a tree stump.

"Bring the bird over here and the carving knife. Will this work as a table, my lord?"

Jaime, fully immersed in the idea of a partridge looked at the stump and replied, "Oh yes, this will do nice–" He cried out as the men kicked in his knees. Pulled from the ground, the men slammed him onto the stump with his hands laid flat on it.

"Hold him," Locke said reaching out for the blade. He pulled Jaime's head off the stump by the hair and hissed in his ear, "You think you're the smartest man there is."

He eyed the sword hovering by his face wearily.

"That everyone alive has to bow and scrape and lick your boots."

"My father," Jaime started.

"And if you get in any trouble all you've got to do is say 'my father' and that's it, all your troubles are gone," Locke proceeded as if he never spoke.

"Don't," whispered Jaime, pleading.

"Have you got something to say?" Locke shoved the blade into his tightly shut eye and all Jaime could do was clench his jaw and focus on the fear of losing his eye. He wouldn't look good in an eyepatch, was what he thought to himself to try to alleviate the pressure. It didn't work and he only felt worse.

"Careful. You don't want to say the wrong thing. You're nothing without your daddy. And your daddy ain't here. Never forget that." With a flick, Locke removed the blade from his eye and Jaime felt a sense of relief. He was just bluffing, he thought, pulling his head up and releasing his breath. "Here, this should help you remember!"

Jaime didn't feel it until after he saw the bloody stump where his hand was. He started screaming both in pain and in shock. That was his everything. Without his hand, he wasn't the greatest swordsman in the Seven Kingdoms. Hell, he could barely be a soldier. Pain flooded him and there was the sensation of losing blood quickly.

The men surrounding him started cackling loudly and pulled him to his feet as he stared in disbelief at where his hand had been.

Brienne

The two most entertaining people in the Seven Kingdoms were reduced to piles of silence and despair in a matter of hours, and Brienne could do nothing to save them. While Jaime mourned the loss of his hand, Zhea had barely looked up from the ground other than at the guttural cry from her friend. Brienne stared at his lifeless form, his hand now hung around his neck, as he just gave up. He didn't respond to any jabs or worry over the YiTish woman. Even as he fell off his horse, he didn't fight it. He fell into the mud, and Zhea, poor thing, only stared at him, lacking any comprehension.

Brienne could faintly hear him begging for water, the first words since last night, and he drank heavily before spitting it out and vomiting up bile. A cruel joke to put horse piss into a wineskin, but these men were truly the scum of the earth. As they carried on, Jaime back in the saddle, Brienne began to worry about tonight. When they make camp, will they rape Zhea again? Or have they had their fill?

No, she decided, she wouldn't let them touch another hair on her head if she could help it. To be raped so for so long the night before only for it to repeat the next night? Brienne thought it might kill her if she got lucky. It appeared the men weren't hungry for the time being, and she was tied alongside Jaime around a small firepit.

"Eat," Brienne urged both of them as she watched their lifeless figures. "What are you doing?"

"I'm dying," Jaime moaned.

"You can't die." Brienne was firm. "You need to live to take revenge." Yes, revenge should fuel them when food and water simply weren't good enough. Revenge is what got her out of Renly's camp in time. Revenge is what kept her going when she felt her muscles ache and her bones quiver.

Zhea closed her eyes and shook her head. "They're coming for me again. I know it," she whimpered pitifully. "It wasn't even all of them. I bet the rest are waiting to take me tonight."

"No, they aren't," Brienne told her in a motherly voice. "You're safe for tonight."

"For tonight," she sang weakly.

"I don't care about revenge," Jaime said, his voice only just louder than Zhea's whisper.

"You coward. A little misfortune and you're giving up?"

"Misfor-misfortune?"

"You lost your hand," Brienne said, adopting a scolding teacher tone.

"My sword hand. I was that hand."

"You have a taste one taste of the real world where people have important things take from them, and you whine and cry and quit. You sound like a bloody woman." This was not the Jaime Lannister she had badgering her the entire way through the Riverlands. Where was the knight who didn't know when to stop?

"Oh, no," cried Zhea. "No, no, no. They're back. Make them stop it."

But they couldn't. Brienne watched in despair as she was dragged away from them kicking and screaming until a rag was shoved into her mouth.

"Are you going to tell her the same thing?" Jaime snapped. "I hate this. I can't do anything."

"I know what you did." muttered Brienne. "Thank you, for lying. There are no sapphires on Tarth. It's called the Sapphire Isle because of the blue of the water."

"Well, at least I could do something useful."

Harrenhal was an imposing castle home to more bats than Whents in the past century. Brienne saw it hours before they arrived and was struck by its size. Jaime was barely hanging onto his horse, and Zhea was even worse, being forced to ride behind him to hold him up. The Bolton soldiers dragged them from their horses to their knees in front of Roose once they arrived. Brienne grunted from the impact of the ground and glared at the men.

"Lord Bolton, I give you the Kingslayer," Locke said, kicking Jaime to the ground.

"Pick him up Locke." He waited until Jaime was on his feet before moving on, "You've lost a hand."

"No, my lord. He has it here." Locke sadistically twanged the rope supporting the dead hand around his neck.

"Take this away," demanded Roose, pulling the hand from him and handing it to Locke.

"And send it to his father?"

"You'll hold your tongue unless you want to lose it." Roose was just as intimidating as Harrenhal despite not being as large. He was older, but his countenance was one of an experienced man. Brienne didn't like his men, but he was someone with half a brain. "Cut her free. Apologies, my lady. What's wrong with this one?"

He pointed to Zhea, still kneeling before him.

"They raped her," Jaime said.

Roose glared at Locke. "You're under my protection now."

Both women were cut loose from their binds, and they rose at varying speeds to thank their newest captor.

"Find suitable rooms for our guests. We'll speak later." He eyed Jaime up and down before leaving.

"Lord Bolton, have you heard word from the capital?"

"You haven't heard? Stannis Baratheon laid siege to King's Landing. Sailed into Blackwater Bay. Stormed the gates with thousands of men. And your sister… how can I put this?" He got close to him. "Your sister… She's alive and well. Your father's forces previaled."

Brienne looked on, in awe of Lord Bolton's blasé reaction to Jaime falling at his feet.

"Send him to Qyburn."

Brienne was led away to a small damp room with a single bed, too small for her, no doubt, and a half-used candle. She stood in the center for a moment before calling to the men who took her here.

"Where is your bathhouse?" she asked them.

"We can escort you–"

"No, just give me the directions," Brienne took Zhea's arm and pulled her away from them. "We'll be fine."

Jaime's screams intercut the man's directions, and Brienne could barely focus on what they were saying. She managed to find the bathhouse with no trouble and ordered new clothes be sent for her and Zhea before entering.

"Zhea, you need to undress," Brienne said gently. She began by ridding herself of her armor, tunic, and trousers and tossing them in the corner. "Now you."

Zhea was slower and shakier. For each new item of clothing she removed a new injury was revealed. On her legs were bruises in the shape of fingerprints and hands. Her arms mirrored her legs, and her torso was black and blue from the struggling.

She was a beautiful girl that would be tormented by this incident for the rest of her life, Brienne thought as she got in the far tub and held her trembling hand as she followed her in.

"The hot water will help heal you," she encouraged. Brienne took the brush from the side of the tub and began working on Zhea's body. She flinched often, making it difficult to get any of the dirt out of the crevices, but Brienne was patient with her, and, soon, it was her turn. Zhea moved to the adjacent side of the bath and pulled her knees to her chest.

"After a while," she said hoarsely. Brienne looked up abruptly. "After a while I stopped feeling it. It was all the same… Do you think Qyburn has any potions I can take that might… you know."

Brienne nodded. "I'm sure he does. You should ask him before we go."

"Yes. I think I will."

Brienne continued to clean herself and then some. During her scrubbing, she took the time to observe the layout of the bathhouse. It was unusual for Westeros to have such an ornate room with two large pools. The walls were painted a now dirty blue with patterns she couldn't conceive. She went over each body part three times and was beginning her fourth when Jaime walked in.

"Not so hard. You'll scrub the skin off," he commented upon entering. Zhea looked up at his voice, and her face lightened perceptively.

"What are you doing here?" Brienne demanded.

"I need a bath," Jaime groaned. The boy who led him in helped him out of his clothes, and he made his way to the girls' tub. "Now get out,"

he told the squire.

Brienne turned her eyes away, embarrassed, but Zhea was nonchalant and even swam over to his side of the tub.

"How are you?" He asked her, running a hand through her hair. "You're full of knots."

Zhea dropped the depressed look she wore and let a serene expression fill its void. "I've never been worse."

Brienne was uncomfortable. She felt as though she was intruding and curled into a ball in her corner, much like how Zhea was before Jaime arrived. The former swordsman made sure to keep his stump elevated as he relaxed.

"There's another tub." Brienne grumbled.

"This one suits me fine. Don't worry. I'm not interested. If I faint, pull me out, one of you. I don't intend to be the first Lannister to die in a bathtub."

"Why should I care how you die?"

"You swore a solemn vow, remember?" Brienne and Jaime glared at each other. "You're supposed to get me to King's Landing in one piece. Not going so well, is it? No wonder Renly died with you guarding him."

Brienne stood up in indignation, daring him to continue. Both Zhea and Jaime stared at her, but she did not waver under their gaze.

"That was unworthy. Forgive me." Jaime looked down in shame. "You protected me better than most-

"Don't you mock me," Brienne seethed.

"I'm apologizing. I'm sick of fighting. Let's call a truce." Jaime seemed tired and genuine, but Brienne was wary of the act.

"You need trust to have a truce."

"I trust you." Never once did his eyes stray from hers and she sat down, not fully satisfied.

"There it is. There's the look. I've seen it for seventeen years on face after face. You all despise me. Kingslayer. Oathbreaker." Brienne looked to the side, unable to meet his eye after her little display. "A man without honor." She felt sympathetic towards him with each new title. "You've heard of wildfire?"

"Of course."

"The Mad King was obsessed with it. He loved to watch people burn, the way their skin blackened and blistered and melted off their bones. He burned lords he didn't like. He burned Hands who disobeyed him. He burned anyone who was against him. Before long, half the country was against him." Jaime's eyes stared off into the past and Zhea had scooted back to observe him.

"Aerys saw traitors everywhere. So he had his pyromancer place caches of wildfire all over the city- beneath the Sept of Baelor and the slums of Flea Bottom. Under houses, stables, taverns. Even beneath the Red Keep itself. Finally, the day of reckoning came. Robert Baratheon marched on the capital after his victory at the Trident. But my father arrived first with the whole Lannister army at his back, promising to defend the city against the rebels.

"I knew my father better than that. He's never been one to pick the losing side. I told the Mad King as much. I urged him to surrender peacefully. But the king didn't listen to me. He didn't listen to Varys who tried to warn him. But he did listen to Grand Maester Pycelle, that grey, sunken cunt. 'You can trust the Lannisters,' he said. 'The Lannisters have always been true friends of the crown.' So we opened the gates and my father sacked the city.

"Once again, I came to the king, begging him to surrender. He told me to bring him my father's head. Then he turned to his pyromancer. 'Burn them all,' he said. 'Burn them in their homes. Burn them in their beds.'

"Tell me, if your precious Renly commanded you to kill your own father and stand by while thousands of men, women, and children burned alive, would you have done it? Would you have kept your oath then?"

Brienne was stunned. The reality of life was suddenly clear to her. What good were oaths when they were to men who burnt innocent with the bat of an eye?

"First, I killed the pyromancer," Jaime continued. "And then when the king turned to flee, I drove my sword into his back. 'Burn them all,' he kept saying. 'Burn them all.' I don't think he expected to die. He- he meant to burn with the rest of us and rise again, reborn as a dragon to turn his enemies to ash. I slit his throat to make sure that didn't happen. That's where Ned Stark found me."

"If this is true why didn't you tell anyone? Why didn't you tell Lord Stark?"

"Stark? You think the honorable Ned Stark wanted to hear my side? He judged me guilty the moment he set eyes on me. By what right does the wolf judge the lion? By what right?"

Zhea hushed him and laid a hand on his shoulder when he tried to stand. She took the brush and soap from Brienne and with practiced hands began washing Jaime.

"My turn," she said, chuckling humourlessly. "You wanted to know how I got to Westeros didn't you? Now's as good a time as any. Turn around Jaime." He obeyed her.

Brienne was concerned. Zhea had said nothing in days besides begging to be sparred, and she was going to explain her life story? She wanted to stop her, but there was a haze in her eyes that stopped her. Zhea wanted to relive the past for before accepting reality.

"My mother came from an old, very wealthy family in YiTi. Her family name was known throughout the land–the Wu dynasty. Longer and purer than the emperor's. She died when I was eleven. My father was a merchant, not happy with living a stationary life, so I rarely saw him before her death. He came home a week after she died and declared I would join him on his travels around the world–a dream for a little kid. In reality, it was a lot of staring at water.

"We spent three years on that ship, only settling in port cities for a few nights at a time, and it was nice when we were on land. But my father was getting old, and I was sick of the ocean, so he settled in Meereen and entrusted his empire to his best friend." Zhea had finished cleaning Jaime and hugged herself.

"Meereen was fun while he was alive. We lived a modest but comfortable life for six months before he died. Once he was gone, the money didn't last much longer after that. Apparently, he was in debt to a few slave-masters in the city, so I was taken as payment by one of the noble families, Quazzar. The House of Quazzar was deeply religious and paid great homage to the fighting pits, so when the time came to send fighters I was one of many.

"Luckily, I was deemed too frail to fight–an embarrassment–so I was put to work in the pits. At first, I cleaned shit and raked the pits after each fight, but I proved myself and was taught to crudely patch up soldiers.

"One day, a man from Westeros voluntarily entered the pits and defeated the champion. I wasn't allowed near him at first, but he saw me from afar and requested I be the one who tended to him. He told me about his country and his people, but I couldn't speak. The next day he fought I fixed him up again, and he told me of his daughters. Each time I was with him, he told me something new. I was enthralled by him.

"He came to me after a fight with a sad look in his eyes. He told me, 'I am leaving on the morrow. Come with me to Dorne. There you will be loved and free.' So, Oberyn bought me from my masters, and I have been free ever since."

Brienne looked at the heavy eyelids of the woman she realized she never knew. There was more to her than an elegant fighter. Zhea was a survivor. She hoped that she would be as strong as Zhea was when it came down to it. Jaime looked amazed as well and stood shakily with her help. Together they made it to where new clothes were laid out for them and dressed.

note: this chapter contains references to the book that I may have gotten wrong as someone who has not read them. This chapter is also the first of many chapters that will deal with rape and it's after effects. Please be warned I will not be giving any more warnings before chapters as it is now a part of Zhea and will be mentioned at varying length until the end of the book.