Jaime

Jaime stormed into Brienne's chamber looking for something to throw. Picking an empty wine cup off the table he dashed it against the wall with a violence it didn't deserve, shattering it. He needed something else, anything to take out his anger on. He yelled and punched the wall with his fist, then howled at the pain of hitting the wood-covered stone. The wall was indifferent to his rage, so he kicked it for good measure. Afterwards, he hopped on one foot to the bed, cursing loudly.

Maybe he should have spent his fury on Cersei. He had only knocked her to the ground when she had dared to put her hand down his pants. She had probably hit the stone floor hard enough to bruise, but she had just laughed up at him in defiance.

"You really are less than a man," she had said to him with a thin smile, "No wonder you only want the Beast in your bed. She's so ugly you'll never be expected to get your sorry excuse for a cock up."

Jaime had stared down at her with loathing, fighting the urge to kick her where she had landed. As furious as he was, attacking someone who was helpless on the ground was not clean or chivalrous. He'd taken a deep breath, willing himself to be calmer.

Before he could walk away Cersei had hissed up at him, "There was a time when my merest touch made you hard. You were once so much man you would have fucked me here in the hall if I'd allowed it. I guess they really did cut your cock off when they took your hand."

"Sweet sister, is that all you can think to say to excuse my not wanting you anymore?" he'd grated out, "Do you know what I did when I got your letter there in the Riverlands? I had it burned. 'I love you,' you wrote, three times, as though if I weren't convinced by the first I would somehow believe the next or the next. We were through then, Cersei. We were through even before I fell in love with Brienne."

"You burned it?" Cersei had said, narrowing her eyes, "You got the letter then, after all?"

"As I said."

"And you just left me to die," She'd said angrily, her face flushing.

"And yet, here you are, apparently unstoppable. I wish the Others better luck."

"You can't mean that, brother. You're only angry because of this tiny problem you're having with your limp cock. We can work on that together. I'm sure your hideous pet has no clue how to make you feel like a man; especially since she is more man than woman anyway."

"This was your final warning Cersei: if you ever lay a hand on me again we'll once more be a matching set, because I will chop it off. To say nothing of what Brienne would do to you if she had seen what you tried just now."

"Oh? You think so?" Cersei had said with a knowing smile, "Your ugly pet would protect you from me? You're both so pitiful."

Finding it more difficult by the second not to stomp on Cersei, Jaime had left her there on the floor and come in to take his rage out on the crockery.

This whole thing started when he had seen Cersei coming out of her room earlier and decided to confront her about the threats she had made the night before, when he had been disguised as Brienne.

"Sister," he'd called to her, and she had waited for him to walk over to her. "I understand that you spoke with Brienne last night," he'd said when he was standing before her. Cersei had tilted her head at him with a questioning look but said nothing.

Jaime had tried to keep his tone measured and calm, "She is my Lady," he told her, "and I will not have you saying hateful things to her or making threats."

Cersei had nodded and, surprisingly, apologized, "I am so sorry, dear brother, I don't even remember talking to 'your Lady' last night. I fear all of the hippocras I drank must have affected my memory. But if you believe that I was inappropriate, then I truly regret it."

Jaime hadn't expected her to be so reasonable; he was relieved but mostly suspicious, "If it's true that you regret your actions, then you will leave both of us alone from now on. You need to understand that I am never coming back to your bed." He had hated having to say it so bluntly, but he knew Cersei would twist anything, given the chance.

"Yes, Jaime, I understand" she had said, so meekly that the battle he had expected seemed to be over without resorting to harsh words and threats.

"Thank you for understanding, Cersei," he'd said, and turned to go.

Before he could walk away, Cersei said, "Jaime, can we not talk a moment? I need to speak to you about Tommen. I fear there may be serious danger in Casterly Rock for him; I've heard rumors that make me frightened for his safety."

"What? What have you heard? He is under guard, and the last I heard he was quite well."

"We can't talk here," Cersei had whispered, her eyes darting up and down the hall, as though afraid of listeners, "what I have to say could be considered treasonous. Come into my room, so I can tell you what I know."

Worried for his son, Jaime had foolishly agreed to go into Cersei's chamber with her. He had barely stepped inside before she had stepped up close and swifty pulled the laces loose on his jerkin. Catching her wrists angrily he had set her away from him.

"Don't ever touch me again," He'd growled, squeezing her wrists until she whimpered. "Do you understand?"

Cersei had nodded, tears coming to her eyes.

"That bit about Tommen, was that just a ruse to get me in here?"

She shook her head, looking up at him fearfully. "I'm sorry Jaime. Just, please, let me go."

"You can talk to me in the hall about Tommen, if you must," he'd said, and released her hands. She immediately reached out and pulled the tie on his pants; one swift tug was all it took to undo the simple bow. Jaime didn't notice, he was in such a hurry to leave her room.

Cersei had followed him out, looked up and down the hall, and then suddenly pushed herself against him, tugging at his hair, reaching into his loosened breeches. He had been startled by her actions, rooted to the spot just long enough for her to grab his cock; Gods, she was quick with those hands. That was when he had thrown her onto the floor. It was a good thing her grip on his cock hadn't been very tight or he might have actually regretted his actions.

It had been stupid to be lured into Cersei's room at all, he thought now, lying back on the bed in the chamber he shared with Brienne. Tyrion had been right about her; she was not to be trusted. Words and even force weren't going to work with her. He was glad his body hadn't responded to her since that might have made her bold enough to try again.

Jaime wished Brienne were already home. It was almost full dark outside now. He wondered if she had met with the queen earlier as Tyrion had implied. He'd hinted at some dangerous task Daenerys needed Brienne to do. Whatever it was, he knew they could face it together.

He smiled, thinking about how well things were going between them. Their kiss in Traitor's walk yesterday afternoon had been enough to make him truly ecstatic, but so much more had happened since then. Jaime closed his eyes, remembering their kiss in front of the Queen's Ballroom, Brienne's seeming indifference blooming into a passion to match his own, their feelings for one another undeniable at last.

Then, in the ballroom, they had dared to behave like the lovers everyone already thought they were. Jaime remembered the warmth of her against him on the couch, his arms wrapped around her waist, her arms covering his. The feel of her silken hair under his lips. Even the memory of that too-tall boy from the free cities flirting with Brienne couldn't spoil the memory. What was his name again? Drayne? Dryp? Dwayne, that was it.

Afterwards she had worn his cloak, made a joke about being his bride, kissed him. Soon, he hoped, there would be no joking about it. He would drape his cloak over her shoulders and no one would ever question that they belonged to each other.

After he had left Tyrion in the afternoon he had gone to the rookery and paid for seven ravens to each carry the same message to Lord Selwyn on Tarth. Seven was a magic number; hopefully at least one would get through the storms. He had also paid a messenger to ride to King's Landing with a note for Toby Mott. He was anxious to take Brienne to see his shop in the next day or two, and he hoped they could spend some time with Toby and his wife.

Jaime was beginning to get a little drowsy waiting for Brienne, but he wasn't ready to stop reminiscing about the night before. Even the leather rose hadn't ruined it, because not only had she stopped him from burning it, proving it meant something to her after all, but she had shown him the other flower she had preserved. She'd treasured that one enough to keep it close to her all this time. He should have offered her a favor a long time ago, but he was glad she had something from him that she treasured enough to keep safe.

The best thing of all was her saying she loved him as he loved her. It was all out in the open between them now. Jaime sighed, grinning to himself as he lay there on the bed, arms up behind his head. He would never have to stop himself from telling her he loved her again. He could look forward to hearing her tell him that she felt the same.

Jaime imagined being able to hold and kiss her when they went to their tent after a long battle, taking her clothes off and making her ready for him with his fingers and tongue. He imagined moving in her until she forgot all of the horrors of the night and wrapped her thighs around him, clenching his cock within her as she peaked. He could almost forget all of the less pleasant things waiting for them once they left King's Landing, knowing they would finally be able to express their love.

There was a knock at the door and Jaime got up to answer it. Agnes stood on the other side, and gave him a bright smile and a curtsey.

"Ser Jaime! I've come to see when you and the lady Brienne might be wanting your bath brought round? I'll just need to get a couple of the bigger lads to bring the tub and help carry the hot water."

"Hello, Agnes," Jaime said pleasantly, the prospect of the night ahead tempering his anger over Cersei, "I'm not sure about the timing of the bath; the lady has not come in yet this evening. I think she was meeting with the queen today."

"Oh, I heard, Ser. I come across the queen's messenger just after he spoke with the lady. The queen wanted lady Brienne to meet her at the stables to go for a ride."

"Did she? Interesting. Until she comes in we won't be needing the tub. I'll send you word when we're ready."

"Very good, Ser," Agnes said, dropping another curtsey, "Is there anything else the two of you would be wanting?"

"The usual things, I think. Soap, shampoo, towels, wine…privacy," Jaime grinned.

Agnes smiled at him knowingly, "I'll see to it you're not disturbed, Ser."

"Good. Also, the lady and I might be moving to different quarters soon. We'd like it if you continued to tend to us. I'll see that Godfrey knows."

"Thank you, Ser!" said Agnes happily, "Truth be told, I'm right scared I'll run into your sister sometime here in the Maidenvault. 'Twould be a relief to be away from her."

"You and me both, Agnes." Jaime said fervently. They both laughed nervously at the thought of encountering Cersei again.

When Agnes had gone, Jaime put more wood on the fire in the hearth and then lay back on the bed again, thinking about his Wench, growing hard with longing for her touch. Tonight he would finally get Brienne into a bath with him again, but unlike Harrenhal, this time he was hale enough to do something about it. Maybe he would swoon into her arms again anyway, just for fun.

It was full dark outside now, and Jaime worried about Brienne out riding so late with the queen. He decided if she wasn't back soon he would go looking for her.

Jaime spent the time thinking about how soon he might hear from Lord Selwyn, if one of the ravens got through. He spent very little time worrying about whether Selwyn might give his consent to a betrothal; he was much more interested in wondering how Brienne would react to his proposal. Tyrion had seemed pleased at the prospect of having Brienne as his good sister. Despite their playful antagonism Jaime felt the two of them would come to quite like each other. He suspected they already did, in a way.

Time passed slowly as Jaime watched the candle burn lower, hoping Brienne would walk in. When she still hadn't come in after what seemed about a half hour, Jaime put on his cloak and boots. He wondered if he was to be allowed to wear a sword again soon, since he was no longer being guarded. He hoped so; not since his maiming had he spent so long without a sword at his hip.

He left the room and went out the doors. Helyn was awake and seemed alert. Jaime had failed to charm her before, but that didn't stop him from smiling at her in hopes she would be receptive to him this time.

"Good evening, my lady," he said, "might I ask if you have seen Brienne of Tarth recently?"

Helyn peered at him a moment before answering, "Not since she left this morning, Ser. She wore a pretty blue and purple tunic and her hair was braided up nice for a change."

"Thank you, lady Helyn," Jaime said, "if you see her come in would you tell her I've gone to the stables and will be back soon?"

"Aye, I might do. If you see that handsome Horse Lord Hummock, would you tell him I'm off duty tonight at the tenth hour?"

"Aye, that I will do." Jaime smiled to himself, wondering what Hemikh had gotten himself into. He walked out into the bailey, braced for the cold. The sleet and snow had slowed for the moment, though the wind never seemed to cease. The snow was quite deep as he trudged across the yard and under the portcullis leading to the stables.

The stables were mercifully warm and dry, filled with the scent of hay and animals. Jaime lifted a lantern from the hook by the wall and made his way back to their horse's stalls, expecting to find Sean's empty. He was surprised to see Sean in his stall with his blanket on, looking for all the world as though he'd been there for a long time. Jaime looked him over and found him groomed and breathing easily, obviously not recently ridden.

"Hello, Sean," he said, running his hand along the horse's broad neck, "Where's our girl gotten to? I know you got to spend the day with her, but now it's my turn." Sean rubbed his head against him and snorted. Fluffy Tail jealously bared his teeth at Sean, his ears back and his eyes glaring. "Sorry, Ser," Jaime soothed him, "Are you mad because you didn't get to go out today? Maybe tomorrow the four of us can ride into King's Landing to Mott's forge. That would be fun, wouldn't it?" He vigorously scrubbed his stump into his horse's forelock, which seemed to improve his spirits. "If either of you lads sees Brienne, do tell her I'm looking for her, won't you?"

Jaime left the building, feeling uneasy that Sean had already been stabled. He wondered if Brienne were still with the queen somewhere. As he left the building he heard distant laughter coming from somewhere near the small hall. He wondered if someone was out enjoying the lull in the snow, maybe having a snow ball fight or out making snow septas. He hated being covered in snow with a passion, so whoever it was must be either very young or very stupid. Or possibly drunk. Curiosity nearly led him to take a look, but instead he decided to go to his room in the tower of Traitor's Walk. He couldn't think of any reason Brienne might go back there, but it wouldn't hurt to look.

The tapestry of Robert Baratheon and the Greyjoy Rebellion had been taken away, and in its place was a smaller tapestry depicting a boar hunt. Jaime wasn't certain, but he thought the lead rider was also Robert, fatter and far less impressive than the previous scene. There was a good deal of mud scuffed over the figure, so it really could be anybody. Not wanting to miss the chance just in case it was Robert, Jaime made sure to wipe his boots thoroughly on it. At least there was one thing that he and Daenerys felt the same about: the only good use for the late king was as a shit scraper.

Jamie took the stairs two at a time, hopeful that he would find Brienne in his room. It had only been a day, but the empty room already had a sad, deserted feel to it. Some of his belongings were still stacked in the corner, and snow dusted the bed where it had blown in through the uncovered window. Jaime grinned, remembering how he and Brienne had sat cross-legged on the bed as she had so carefully shaved him yesterday. He rubbed his hand over the stubble that had grown since, glad that disguises were no longer necessary; he knew that Brienne preferred him bearded. Jaime remembered the time he'd shorn off most of his hair just after she had returned him to King's Landing; she had said nothing about it at the time, of course, but ever since the Riverlands she often made a point of commenting on how nice his hair was when it was longer.

Where was his Wench now, he wondered. He was becoming more than a little worried that she seemed to have disappeared after meeting with the queen. Could she have made the queen angry and been detained? Jaime's stomach roiled to think Brienne might be in trouble somewhere.

Jaime found himself going down the stairs to the first level of the dungeons, suddenly afraid that Brienne might have been imprisoned there to force her into doing the queen's bidding. He found the old gaoler, a rough man who looked like his liver had decamped years ago, along with his hair, and asked if any women had been recently incarcerated.

The man looked sourly at Jaime, "No, more's the pity." He said, picking something lumpy out of his ear with one long fingernail, "if it's desperate women you're wanting, m'lord, you'll have to pay for 'em down on the Street of Silk. Lots of women fleeing the north just now, whoring out for a chance at a warm bed."

Jaime nodded and thanked the man for the information, managing to suppress his shiver of revulsion until he had ascended the stairs. He'd seen enough of dungeons and gaolers for several lifetimes.

Beginning to fear something really awful was going on, he wondered where to look next. Tyrion might now where Brienne was, so he would try to find his brother.

Tyrion

"I have to go find Jaime. Poor, stupid, naïve, Jaime. I warned him not trust Cersei." Tyrion said to Loras, who merely shrugged and followed Brienne and Dwayne out of the small hall and into the snowy yard.

He was tempted to follow them to look out for Brienne's welfare, but decided finding Jaime to straighten out his mess was more important.

He went to the doors closest to the middle bailey and pushed out through the deep drifts of snow. Even bundled up in layers of warm clothing he felt frozen through right away. Commanding soldiers up at the Wall was going to be like the seven hells frozen over. How he dreaded it.

Tyrion hoped that Jaime would have a good explanation for what Brienne had seen. If he didn't, if he had actually gotten entangled by Cersei's wiles, there was no hope for him. He believed that Brienne loved his brother deeply, but he doubted she would be able to see past such a betrayal. Losing the girl he hoped to marry over a quick fuck with Cersei seemed out of character for the man Jaime had become. Even when he and Cersei had been lovers he hadn't been a man to wander; he was nothing if not loyal and steadfast. Tyrion knew he owed his own life to Jaime's sense of loyalty.

The Maidenvault was warm after the slog through the snow, yet Tyrion felt chilled by the task ahead of him. He greeted Helyn at her post and asked after his brother.

"Oh, yes, that handsome knight came by not long ago on his way out. I don't know where he was going, though," Helyn said, looking down at Tyrion curiously. "Do you know, you're the very image of the old queen's brother? He was a half man as well, you see."

"Really?" said Tyrion, "I had not heard. Sweetling, if Ser Jaime passes this way again would you let him know that a half man was looking for him?"

Helyn preened a little at being called 'sweetling' and nodded, "I'll let him know if I see him, young man."

Tyrion thanked her and went through the door to see if Jaime was in Brienne's chamber. He knocked, but receiving no answer, opened the door to check inside. The fire was burning in the hearth and several candles were lit, but Jaime was not within.

With a deep sense of dread Tyrion knew the next room he needed to check was Cersei's. He walked to her door and knocked loudly. She took her time answering, and when she saw that it was Tyrion on the other side she put a hand on her hip and sneered down at him. She was dressed for seduction in a revealing gown, and had even managed to get the bear grease out of her hair.

"What do you want?" she asked without bothering to greet him.

"Hello to you as well, sweet sister," Tyrion said, "I'm looking for Jaime. Is he with you?"

"He was," Cersei said with a lascivious smile, "but he's gone now."

Tyrion scowled; it was just the kind of vague answer he might have expected of her. "What have you done, Cersei?" he asked in a low voice that he hoped rather than believed would sound threatening.

"Me? I have done nothing that concerns you, little brother."

"Have you done something that concerns Jaime?"

"What Jaime and I do when we're alone is not your business, Tyrion." She smirked, "Now do waddle along. I don't know where Jaime is, but I doubt he's with his fantastically ugly pet just now."

Tyrion stared up at Cersei for a moment, trying to read her face for clues. He knew her triumphant look well, and there was more than a hint of it writ there tonight, but he could also see a seething anger in her eyes. Some part of whatever her scheme was had worked, but not entirely to her satisfaction. This fit with what Tyrion has suspected: she had managed to compromise Jaime where Brienne could see, but had probably been unsuccessful in luring him back to her bed. If she had succeeded she would be crowing about it.

He turned and walked away without another word and heard the door slam shut behind him. He really needed to find Jaime before this all got more out of hand. Where to look for him next?

Jaime

Maegor's Holdfast, where the royal apartments and the chambers of anyone well-connected or royal enough to be in favor were located, was all the way across the keep from the Traitor's Walk and the dungeons. Jaime hoped to find Tyrion there, or at least get a message to him.

On the way to the Holdfast he passed by the Maidenvault, so he decided to see if Brienne had come in while he had been searching for her. He asked Helyn if she had seen her.

"Aye, I saw her this morning, I did. Not seen her since, though." Helyn told him, looking him up and down appraisingly, "Another knight was looking for her earlier, the old queen's brother, I think."

"You mean me, I think," Jaime told her, his patience strained to breaking.

Helyn looked at him, beckoned him closer, and then pronounced, "No, you're more handsome than the old queen's brother to be sure, but he was looking for her, too."

Jaime thanked her, went through the doors and sprinted down the hall to their room. Brienne was not there. On his way back out he nodded at Helyn, worried that if he spoke to her again she would assume he was one of a set of triplets.

He took the serpentine steps to the lower bailey two at a time, and then crossed the bridge past the frozen heads, their mouths and eye sockets full of snow. This was his first time back in the Holdfast since his arrest, but he knew his way around well enough. The occupants of the chambers had changed, but the essentials were the same. He quickly found the old steward, Leyre, whom he had known since he was a boy. The man had served under four kings and a queen, but was still quite sharp.

Much as Jaime wanted to get answers to his questions, he tried to be calm enough not to excite the man's enmity. Leyre was competent, but could also be mercilessly petty if he felt he was being disrespected in any way.

"Leyre, well met!" he said jovially, "still holding down the 'Fast, I see." Jaime cringed at his own bad pun, but went on, "Must be a nice change, serving under a beautiful queen for a change, eh?" and then Jaime did cringe, remembering that Leyre preferred the company of his own gender.

Leyre did not seem affronted, though. "Aye, it is different, Ser Jaime," he said, "The new queen may have abominable fashion sense, but she's no worse than the others, gives her orders plain and expects them to be obeyed. Always easier when there's just one person to answer to."

"Oh? Who would you say has been the most pleasant ruler you're served under? I should think Tommen would have been quite easy to please."

"Aye, but Tommen didn't give the orders, Ser. The Queen Regent, your sister, did."

"Oh, quite right," said Jaime, "in that case may I just apologize on behalf of House Lannister for any ill-treatment you might have suffered under her reign."

"Thank you, Ser," Leyre said with very small smile, "Lord Tyrion also offered apologies for Queen Cersei. I must say I was tickled to hear she is no longer a Lannister at all."

"As am I," Jaime said, "Speaking of Tyrion, I was hoping to get a message to him, or to see him if he is about."

"I'm afraid Lord Tyrion is not in the Holdfast that I know of. I believe he was headed to the small dining hall."

"I'm also looking for Brienne of Tarth, Lord Leyre, are you familiar with the lady?"

"I am familiar with her, Ser, though I have not had words with her this visit I did meet her when she brought you back to King's Landing. I understand that she is something special to you?"

"She is," Jaime confirmed, "Brienne went for a ride with the queen today, but has not returned to our rooms. I had hoped Tyrion might know where she was."

"I will have a watch kept for Lord Tyrion so that he can be told you are looking for him," the steward said, "and if I hear aught of your lady, I will have word sent to you. You are in the Maidenvault at present, I believe?"

"Yes. Thank you," Jaime said gratefully and turned to go, then thought of one more thing, "Can you direct me to Ser Loras' chambers? He and Lady Brienne have become friends; mayhap she is visiting with him."

Leyre smiled, "I can walk you to Ser Loras' chambers, but I'm fairly certain he was going to the dining hall not long ago. We can check to see if he's left yet."

Jaime nodded, and Leyre led him into a maze of corridors that Jaime knew well. They had hardly changed since the time he had wandered these same floors as a member of the King's Guard. He had spent far too much time standing outside the royal apartments as kings took their pleasure, often at others' expense. He was grateful those days were past. He wondered if Daenerys expected Ser Barristan or Ser Jorah to stand outside to wait upon her every whim these days, or if Tyrion was expected to be at her service constantly.

"I was glad to see Ser Loras return safely to the Red Keep," Leyre said, "I understand he will also be going back to the north to fight the Others again."

"We will all be traveling together," Jaime said, "I hope the battle has not been hopelessly lost while we dally here. I was also relieved that Ser Loras survived his burning at Dragonstone; he was the only Kingsguard left that was worth a damn. It will be good to fight next to him again."

"He has seemed more…cheered of late," said Leyre tentatively, "after he lost his good friend Lord Renly he seemed rather lost."

"It is hard to lose someone you love," Jaime said absently as they halted outside Loras' chambers, "Renly's death affected more than Loras, but his loss was the greatest." Jaime thought of Brienne, who not only lost the man she had developed her first infatuation on, but blamed herself for not saving him from an enemy that could not be seen or defeated. Being accused of being a kingslayer when she had only wanted to serve and protect the man must have galled her when she had been charged to escort Jaime, a true kingslayer, to safety.

Leyre nodded, appreciating Jaime's words in support of Loras. He knocked on his door, but did not receive an answer.

"Are you familiar with Ser Dwayne of Lorath?" he asked Jaime.

"I've met him," Jaime said, thinking sourly of the tall young man who was entirely too flirtatious with his Brienne, "why do you ask?"

"I understand that he is thinking of joining the army traveling to the Wall, Ser. He is a guest of her Grace, and not expected to risk himself so, especially as heir to the Lorath silver fortune. I found it interesting that he would make such a decision, but it seems he has become fast friends with some of the other fighters, and wishes to distinguish himself in the war among them."

Why is he telling me this? Thought Jaime, Is he warning me that this Ser Dryp has his eye on Brienne and is joining the unit to be near her? Did he say 'fighters' rather than 'knights' because Brienne is not yet a knight?

"It is a dangerous battle we join, Lord Leyre. Lady Brienne and I have seen things that would give you nightmares for the rest of your days. If I were the heir of Lorath I would get home to my safe little island as quickly as a boat could carry me." Jaime said, his jealousy making his words seem petty even to him.

"I'm sure his lord father would agree, Ser," Leyre said mildly, "but you know how young men looking for glory are."

"That I do, Lord Leyre." Jaime said with a grim smile, thinking about what had motivated him to join the Kingsguard in the first place; the glory, yes, but mostly he had only wanted to be near Cersei. Love was a powerful motivator. "Thank you for your help. I think that I will go look for Loras in the dining hall to ask if he's seen my Lady."

Tyrion

By the time Tyrion got to the tower of Traitor's walk his legs were aching from pushing through the deep snow. Thank the gods he would be riding a horse on the trek to the wall. He began to envy Brienne the chance to ride dragonback someday.

There was a tapestry being used as a boot scraper just inside the tower, and Tyrion looked at it curiously. It appeared to be a hunting scene featuring the late king in all his portly glory, obviously created long before his last hunt, the one where the boar won. Daenerys had been cleaning out all of the old tapestries that had been made since the reign of Robert Baratheon. Most of them were going to be used on floors like this one was, but some, he knew, were being re-worked by skilled artisans into new scenes. He was sometimes confused about whether Dany had an interesting sense of humor or just a vindictive streak a league wide.

Tyrion looked up the steep steps to Traitor's Walk and groaned. Going up the stairs would be bad enough, but coming back down was even harder on his knees and his thighs already burned from traipsing through the snow. It would only be worth it if he found Jaime and managed to head off a Brienne-related disaster.

He started up, lamenting the lack of a handrail and feeling old way before his time. Next he'd be wanting a warming stone for his feet. Oh, right, he had MauMau for that.

He arrived at the top of the stairs and realized he had no idea which room was Jaime's. He chose the first door he came to and closed it again quickly when a paunchy man with scads of white pubic hair surrounding a pale, shriveled cock turned from the window to stare at him. Not that room, then.

The second room was mercifully empty. It could have been Jaime's if he'd moved all of his stuff out, but Tyrion didn't think so. The third room turned out to be Jaime's room. His Silver Army cloak hung on a peg and there were a couple of saddle bags stacked against the wall. Someone had recently swept the snow from the bed to sit down. It looked like Jaime had been here recently and was now gone. Fuck.

Tyrion feared that the more time passed the less the chance of undoing Cersei's damage. He needed to find out from Jaime what had really happened. If he was innocent, as Tyrion suspected, Jaime needed to find Brienne before she did anything stupid with Ser Dwayne, or appeared to. He really didn't think that upset as she was she would betray Jaime. But she had been horribly drunk; he'd certainly done his share of regrettable things after too much drink. Some of the more bawdy tales told about him had more truth to them than even he liked to admit. Though honestly, the one about the sheep was complete fabrication. He hoped.

The next place to look seemed to be the dining hall. Or maybe he should try to find the trio and play chaperone himself. He was surprised at how much he had come to look forward to seeing his brother happily wed; he didn't want to see what losing Brienne would do to him.

Jaime

The dining hall was bustling when Jaime arrived. Full dinner service meant that the show was in full swing, with the stuffed dragon and sheep pulled along on their tracks twice an hour and Rufus appearing about to gag over the diners below him. The large ceramic egg that men had installed earlier proved to have a purpose as well; the top of it lifted on a hinge and charcoal burned beneath a metal grill in the lower portion. A servant was tending to what appeared to be chicken wings, occasionally brushing them with a sticky looking sauce or turning them with tongs.

Jaime scanned the room for any sign of Brienne or Loras or Tyrion. None of them were there. The frustration and worry were beginning to take their toll on his nerves. He needed to know what had happened in Brienne's meeting with the queen, and he wanted to be near her to rid himself of the lingering disgust over what had happened with Cersei.

He wondered if he should tell Brienne about what had happened, but he could hardly put words to it in his own mind. He could say, 'Oh, by the way, I ran into Cersei in the hall and told her to leave us alone. Then I went into her room because she needed to tell me about a plot to harm Tommen, but instead she started to undress me, so I got out of there as fast as I could. She followed me though, and grabbed my cock before I could stop her

Jaime decided he needed a drink, so he walked to the farthest table. He sat down facing the door to watch for Brienne. He didn't want to hide what had happened with Cersei from Brienne, but he didn't want to alarm her, either. He hoped that knocking Cersei to the ground had been enough to deter her, but she'd only gotten angrier, much as she had gotten the last time he'd turned her down. That had been in the White Sword Tower, when she had offered to suck his cock to convince him to kill Tyrion. Gods, he had still wanted her then, but he had refused to defile the tower or kill his own brother. Jaime had rescued him instead, and until today that had been the last time Cersei had touched him.

A woman came to ask what he would like. He looked up at the servant, a pleasant looking woman of about middle age, her gray-streaked ginger hair rolled into a neat bun at the back of her head. Jaime knew he hadn't seen her here before, yet she seemed vaguely familiar.

"Rum, if you have it." Jaime said, distractedly scanning the room in case he had missed the people he was looking for. The queen was at her usual table under Rufus, laughing with some of her Dothraki subjects. Where in the seven hells was Brienne then? The servant was still standing by his side, and he realized she was waiting for an answer from him about something.

"I'm sorry," Jaime said, "I was distracted."

"I just asked if you might like some of the new Dragon Wings we're serving tonight," she said with a dimpled smile, "There's not much meat on 'em, but the honey and ale they brush on sure make them tasty."

"Dragon wings?" Jaime said, a little wearily, "Is that what's in the egg? Rather a disappointing hatch for a mother dragon, I should think."

The servant grinned, "I was thinking something similar, Ser. If my own brood came out just limbs I'd be a wee tweaked about it."

Jaime smiled up at her, "Just rum, please."

The woman returned soon with his rum and a cup and set it before him with a cheerful smile.

"What is your name, my lady?" he asked, pouring the rum and downing it one gulp, enjoying the way it seared down his throat.

"Jenna, if you please, Ser."

"I'm Jaime Lannister," he told her, "Are you new here, Jenna?"

"I am, Ser, I've just come from up Ashtree way with my family. We used to run an inn there, but the cold has driven us south."

"Let us all hope this winter ends soon." Jaime said consolingly, "Have you been in here all evening, Jenna?"

"Aye, Ser Jaime, since this afternoon."

"Have you by any chance seen a very tall blond woman, probably dressed in blue? Astonishing eyes, bit of a scar on one cheek?"

"Oh! I have, Ser, she was at this same table earlier tonight."

"She was?" Jaime asked in consternation. Why in the seven hells would she come here first? "Was she by herself?"

"Och, she was at first, poor lamb. Crying her eyes out, she was. Went through two flagons of wine before she switched to rum. I always say start with rum; mix 'em and you're just asking to vomit on your boots."

"She was crying?" Jaime asked, his heart clenching in his chest.

"Man troubles was what did it, Ser. But then her young man showed up and they seemed to make up."

"Her 'young man'?" Jaime asked, hoping Jenna would describe Loras.

"Yes, Ser. I particularly took note, because one does not often see such a very tall lady, much less a man ever taller than her. Good looking lad, too, Ser, with his thick auburn hair. Ordered more rum for the both of them."

Jaime felt like he was falling. He poured and drank another cup of the rum.

"But before I knew it, another young man joined her. This one was also very comely, though not so tall. Both men seemed quite enamored of the lady, for all her nose was red from crying, and by then she was nearly too drunk to stand."

"Thank you, Jenna," Jaime said faintly.

"Do you also know the lady well?" Jenna asked curiously.

"Yes, Jenna, I know her very well." Jaime said, thinking, better than anyone, I thought.

"Are you a relative then? An uncle maybe?"

Ouch. Jaime shook his head, feeling terribly old on top of betrayed.

"I just remembered me that the lady left something here when she and the tall fellow staggered out of here."

"She left alone with the tall one?" Jaime managed to ask, feeling the nightmare deepen.

"No, the shorter one followed, but the tall one, the one she'd been crying over, he nearly had to carry the lady out she'd drunk so much. Looked like he'd take real good care of her," Jenna said, and then winked.

"What did the lady leave here?" Jaime asked around the lump in his throat.

"Funny thing, that, Ser. It was a leather rose. I saved it in my apron pocket here, in case she came looking for it later." She pulled out the rose, its singed petals and green stem darkened with wine stains.

"I'll take it, Jenna, and make sure she gets it back…if she still wants it."

Jenna handed him the rose, and he tucked it into his boot, feeling sick. "The lady's name is Brienne. Brienne of Tarth." He told her, "In case you see her again. She is…a very great warrior."

"I'll remember, Ser. Can I bring you anything else? More rum? Sure you don't want some of those yummy Dragon Wings? You do look a little ill, now that I think of it."

"No, Jenna, but thank you." Jaime said, hoisting himself up from the table. His legs felt as leaden as his heart, "I've just remembered somewhere I need to be."

"A good evening to you then, Ser. If you come back later we'll be serving those wiggly horse hearts for dessert again. They was a big hit last night."

Jaime made his way out of the dining hall in a daze. He glanced at the queen's table, suddenly wishing that Brienne's absence had been caused by the queen after all. He stood out in the corridor, feeling lost. He started walking in one direction, but then stopped and walked a few steps in the other. He stopped again and bowed his head, trying to think, trying not to feel.

It was impossible. He felt like he could barely breath, the emotions churning through him as intense as any he'd felt since the Quiet Isle, when he'd faced losing Brienne for the first time. Her life wasn't in danger now, so why did this feel so similar?

Jaime wondered if he had done something to drive her away. He knew he was demanding, occasionally grumpy, he snored and he was old enough to be her uncle. Had he pressed her into a declaration of her feelings before she was ready? She did feel the same way he did, didn't she? He felt on the knife edge of panic, doubt gnawing at him. Had he pushed her into being more intimate with him than she was comfortable with? Even their awkward explorations had seemed so right at the time, overdue, really. But they had gone from holding hands to nearly everything, except actually fucking, so quickly. The incredible sweetness of watching her come for him, because of him, flashed through his mind.

Had she wanted to leave before it went too far, before he could take her maidenhead? Had she suspected he wanted to marry her and wanted to go before she was forced to refuse him? Or did she just want to continue the way they had been: friends, comrades in arms, each other's protector. Each other's everything, he had thought. She is everything to me.

She never had denied that he had to worry about Dwayne courting her, now that he thought about it. When he'd asked if he should be worried, she'd said 'I don't know about that, Jaime. I haven't even sparred with him yet,' the young knight could offer her more than he could: land, youth, exceedingly tall children, if she wanted that. Had he been courting her all the while Jaime had been imprisoned awaiting his trial?

But she loves me, Jaime thought, I couldn't be that wrong, could I? All of their drunken kisses and embraces…

Oh, Gods, even if this Dryp hasn't won her, she's drunk, Jaime thought, What if he kisses her and she kisses him back? He knew how much restraint it had taken not to push for things to go further with Brienne when she was in his arms, feeling her warm, sinuous body against him, her lips and tongue making him burn…

Fuck. Fuck fuck fuck fuck. He had to find her. He had to know what all of this meant. What if she had only been upset about whatever the queen had demanded and decided to have a drink before she told him? No, she would have come to him first if that was it.

He hoped Loras was with them still. Loras wouldn't let things get too far, would he? Maybe if he found Loras he would find Brienne.

Tyrion

Tyrion left Traitor's walk and made his way across the outer yard, cursing and panting. Maybe he should try the dining hall for Jaime. But no, the Dany was likely to be there, and just now he was not in a pleasant enough mood to amuse the young queen and her cohorts. Why would Jaime go to the dining hall anyway?

He would go to the holdfast, that was it. He could ask the steward if he'd seen any of them. That man knew more about people's dealings than Varys. Then he could check to make sure they weren't in Loras' or Dwayne's rooms. Gods, let her not be in Dwayne's room. That would affect Jaime nearly as badly as Brienne had been affected believing he'd fucked Cersei. He didn't think Jaime was the man to stand in Brienne's way if she wanted to leave him, and if he didn't know why Brienne had run…

Such a mess.

Maybe he should check the Maidenvault again? It was much closer, and for all he knew the two of them were already back in each other's arms, all misunderstandings forgotten.

Jaime

Finally having a plan, Jaime practically ran out of the building. He'd stop at the Maidenvault first, just in case. He had very little expectation of finding Brienne there, though.

He charged through the door, pausing only briefly by Helyn, who squinted at him and said "Haven't seen her, same as I told the other brother," before he ran back down the hall and burst into their room. Nothing.

He left just as quickly, not pausing by Helyn until her heard her call out, "Half man's been looking for you, Ser!" He skidded to a stop and went back to her.

"Tyrion?" he asked, breathless.

"Who?"

"Tyrion, my little brother! The half man? The imp? Small man with a big attitude?"

"No, Ser, but this one looked just like him. Said he was looking for you. Or maybe he was looking for that other knight, the old queen's brother."

Jaime held his breath and counted backwards from seven until he could be polite. "Did the half man say what he wanted?"

"I think he wanted to see a man about a horse? No, that wasn't it. That was me. Think he was just looking for someone like you." The old woman said with finality.

Jaime frowned and continued on his way. If Tyrion were looking for him maybe he had some news of Brienne. If it was Tyrion and not some other half man. But no, Cersei had pretty well had all dwarves in Westeros dead or in hiding after putting a price on Tyrion's head for killing their father. Hopefully Tyrion was in the holdfast as well as Loras, and one of them could direct him to Brienne, or tell him what was going on.

Jaime was glad to have something physical to do; he knew if he stood still too long the doubt and worry would eventually take their toll.

For the second time that evening Jaime launched himself up the serpentine steps and across the dry moat, trying not to wish Dwayne's was one of the heads up there getting snowed on.

He had forgotten to find out which chamber was Tyrion's earlier, so he stalked rabidly down the hall to the chamber Lord Leyre had said belonged to Loras. He ran his hand through his hair, took a steadying breath, and knocked loudly.

There was no answer. He rattled the latch and found the door unlocked, so he peered inside. He could see that the bed had not been slept in, even though by now it was quite late. He closed the door and turned around to find himself nose to nose with Leyre. He was so startled he yelped and reached for his non-existent sword.

Leyre smirked at him. Sneaking up on people was a skill he had perfected over the years. This was far from the first time he had made Jaime's heart nearly burst with fear. The first time Jaime had only been about four, and he'd retaliated by kicking the man soundly in the shin. He wanted to do that again.

"Looking for Ser Loras?" the steward said, raising an eyebrow serenely.

"Or Tyrion," Jaime said, "Or Dwayne. But most especially for Brienne. Have you seen any of them?"

"I have, Ser."

"Well?! Where are they?" Jaime asked, no longer able to contain his anxiety.

"I don't know Lord Tyrion's whereabouts, Ser, but the other three came in quite a while ago. Not that long after you were here, in fact."

"Did you talk to them, Lord Leyre? Did you tell the lady I was looking for her?" Jaime asked, frustrated at having almost crossed paths with them.

"I spoke briefly to Loras, Ser; he was the only one sober enough to communicate."

"Fuck," Jaime muttered, "and Lady Brienne? Was she okay?"

"She looked like someone who was about to be sick, Ser. I sent an extra bowl to the room for them, just in case."

"Can you tell me where they are now?"

"I could Ser, but I'm not sure you would be happy once you got there."

"Just. Tell. Me." He said slowly, weighting each word with a hint of violence.

"They all went into Ser Dwayne's room. There was quite a bit of noise in there at first, but it's been quiet for a while now."

Jaime tried to brace himself, "What kind of noise?"

"Crashing, Ser, things being knocked over. Drunk noises. Some retching."

Jaime tried to feel relieved that it hadn't been the wild sounds of three people fucking, but what Leyre said didn't necessarily mean that wasn't the case.

"Can you show me to Ser Dry…I mean, Ser Dwayne's room?"

"If you're certain, Ser."

Jaime nodded and the steward led him back past Ser Loras' room to another room in the same corridor.

"Thank you, Lord Leyre. I would appreciate it if you would leave me here to deal with this."

"As you wish," the man said, and walked rapidly back the way they had come. When he was out of sight Jaime took a deep breath. He didn't know what he would find on the other side of that door, but he was quite sure he wasn't going to like it.

He rapped on the door with his knuckles, flinching a little since he had forgotten he'd bruised them slamming his fist into a wall earlier.

There was no answer.

He knocked harder and waited. Eventually he heard some movement and someone cursing in a low voice. He waited what seemed like a long time, but was probably less than a minute.

Loras cracked open the door and peered at him through sleep-swollen eyes. As the realization of who he was looking at registered his eyes opened wider. He quickly glanced into the room behind him and tried to squeeze out the door to talk to Jaime. Jaime put a hand on his chest and pushed him gently back inside, following him in.

The room was dimly lit; the fire in the hearth mere embers and only a few candles still burning. It was enough to see the large, canopied bed.

It was enough to see Brienne, asleep on one side of it, dressed in a tunic he had never seen before. On the other side, Ser Dwayne lay sprawled on his back asleep, dressed only in breeches. Jaime looked at Loras and saw that he, at least, was fully dressed.

Jaime had expected to feel rage, but as a great weight of sadness settled over his shoulders he knew he was to be denied even that to ease his torment. Seeing his Brienne sleeping next to another man hit him as hard as a lance to the chest. He saw that Loras was watching him, seeing the raw hurt in his eyes, but he didn't care.

"She said you were fucking Cersei again," Loras said quietly, expectantly.

Jaime looked sharply at him. "I'm not," he said, taking a ragged breath.

"Then what did she see?" Loras asked, a surprisingly hopeful look on his face.

"I'll tell you what she didn't see: she didn't see me knock Cersei on her arse there in the hall for sticking that foul claw of hers down my breeches."

"You were in her room," Loras said.

"I was stupid. I let Cersei convince me she needed to talk to me about Tommen." Jaime continued to stare at Brienne, his eyes pricking with tears he wouldn't shed. Not here, anyway. Finding out why Brienne hadn't come home was something, and being able to tell his side to Loras was a relief. None of it meant things would ever be the same between them again.

Loras nodded, "They're just friends," He said, gesturing toward the bed with his chin, "Brienne was upset. We were all convinced that you had gone back to Cersei."

Jaime let his shoulders slump. He could think of nothing to say; there was nothing he wanted to hear. His wench was asleep in another mans bed while wearing that man's tunic. No one had willfully assaulted her and then accused her of betrayal.

"Should I wake her up?" Loras asked, "Likely she's still quite drunk, though."

"No," Jaime said softly, "Let her sleep. Tell her…tell her I came looking for her, when she wakes up."

Jaime turned and left.