Morning comes and Mick is already awake early enough to make something quick for breakfast. And pack. It's almost like he didn't sleep.

He doesn't hate his homeland, just the people there. He's eager to get back home, but he doesn't wake Ethan until he's ready. He's not one for forcing people awake, though the knock on the villa door might be loud enough for him to hear. Or the heavy groan Mick makes when he realizes who's outside. There's some heated words exchange by Mick and his father, mostly due because he hasn't visited his sister or hasn't done this or that or whatever Richard needs to get under Mick's skin. Eventually Mick's furious, but almost as quickly as he came, his father is gone and the younger man is left to fume and finish getting things ready.

They have a rather long trip, and quite a bit to deal with when they get back home. Right now, Mick isn't concerned with that. "Ethan. We should get everyone going. I'd like to be home tonight. Tired of this place."

Whine whine whine.

"Mmf..." Ethan forces himself out of bed. "Then let's go."

It doesn't take long to get the party on the move. Sebastian's hands are tied before him and he rides surrounded, but he's comfortable enough. The journey is long and arduous, and with two stops for the chance to take a piss, they arrive as the sun is going down.

The castle and its walls are dark gray stone, the banners flying high, bearing the Krieg eagle. Horn blasts announce their approach, and Ethan forges ahead, knowing Mick will fall close behind them.

They're home.

They're greeted as they should be, and they won't have to take care of any of their own unpacking tonight. Jaime's other two Kingsguard men have left, but he remains for now to deal with the prisoner.

There's a loud, somewhat concerning sound from Mick, but it's because he's pleased to be back. His horse seems to be as well, unable to stand still when they arrive and prancing about until Mick manages to get him settled. Poor thing is barn sour, the entire trip hasn't been to well on this one, but that just gives Mick an excuse to ride more. The guards beside Mick disperse, and Mick calls for Jaime, knowing the other men will care for Sebastian as needed. Mick sees this as important. Once at his side, he trots over to where he sees his new guard. Odd woman, but he likes her, it makes sense why he picked her. He's more or less surprised she arrived so early.

"Woah," he stops his gelding before her, trying to keep it under control. There's some words exchanged between him and the knight, before Mick dismounts and officially greets her. "Ser Lannister, I know I mentioned it to my husband, but I can't remember if I've told you. Because of Sebastian being here I thought I'd arm myself with better security. This is my new personal guard, Lady Brienne. She will be filling in for the position you politely rejected."

She's staring, and Mick doesn't blame her. He has no idea they know one another.

"Ser Lannister," blunt in front of her charge, but there's a small, small hint of a smile, one Mick himself wouldn't be able to pick up. She's still in that armor he gave her, with Oathkeeper at her side. It's a sentiment Mick wouldn't understand.

"...Lady Brienne." He's staring right back, expression hard to read for the sake of formality. His good hand shifts, blue eyes brighter now despite how exhausted he is from the journey and such a sleepless night. "You chose well, Mick. She'll do an excellent job. I can tell, now."

Jaime won't tell Mick they know each other yet. These are volatile times, and he feels that to be best. For now, though, he's having to hold in inner glee. He never thought this day would come, and it's exciting him to have the prospect of that conversation.

Their parting of ways was so hard. Jaime knows they both had things to say they simply couldn't. Times have changed yet again for him, and with Cersei a bit farther away...

Well, that's highly unprofessional.

"For as much as you people seem to loathe Westeros, you certainly do pull our best and brightest to your shores."

"I have no problem with the folks from Westeros. She has a wonderful track record, I wanted her as soon as she was available. I'm glad you think so highly of her," there's something there, Mick can tell, maybe it was the look on Brienne's face when he complemented her to Mick. Or how her hand instantly went to Oathkeeper. "She will stay in my company, but I wont be too harsh on her. Though I do expect her to act as a knight and guard should. Is that right?"

"Yes sir."

"Good," there's a pause and Mick hands his horse to a soldier walking by, and he almost waves Brienne off until he thinks of something. "Will you be staying with us tonight, Jaime? We have plenty of room, it's getting late and I don't feel comfortable sending you out on the journey back," of course he leaves out where he has room. But he waits for an answer before he does anything else.

"While I could ride out and I'm not afraid to camp alone, I'll accept your hospitality for the night." There's another reason, too, but it doesn't make that first one any less valid. "Thank you, sir." With a bow of the head, he makes the decision final.

"Is there anything I can do for you this evening, or will you have no need of me?" He might as well be gracious to his host, and his decorum certainly can't fall now. Not in front of Brienne. He's a proud and somewhat cocky man, after all. He has to maintain that reputation.

"At the moment? No. I haven't been home in days, I want to retire for the night with Ethan. But I would like to see you later. Brienne, please, show him to where he'd stay for the night," Mick says that, but he has a feeling Jaime might be elsewhere for the night. "As for your duty, consider yourself on a mini vacation. Relax, please. I'll see you off tomorrow."

With that he's gone, but he'll return later. Brienne shifts, but that's more so she can do her employer's bidding. She still didn't even know what he was supposed to be. A lord? Some odd equivalent to the wife of one? He nods towards her charge and turns around, not waiting to waste any time.

"Ser Lannister," keeping up for formalities, even alone. Well, not exactly alone, there's still people rushing about, but it's getting later. "Serrah Rawson will want you in the castle. It's...rather luxurious. I've enjoyed my stay there."

"I've had my fill of castles in my lifetime. Very few of them amaze me anymore, although I'm sure his touch has made it a bit fancier than it was back in the days when Ethan wasn't yet married, and even his father's time." Jaime's cavalier attitude isn't going to fall quite yet, either. It's what he's known for, after all.

"For formality's sake, lead the way." He'll keep it up for now, but there are a million things he'd like to say. "How has Oathkeeper served you, Lady Brienne?"

"Better than most," the sword is a prized possession, she takes care of it, even tends to only use it with foes who are worth of it's cut. Her hand instantly goes to the sword hit, resting there like she was protecting her own child. "It has served me well. I still thank you for giving it to me."

Of course. The castle is up ahead and the moon is rising. Krieg's people hang about, and there's even some paler faces from Rawson's lands. It's nice to see the coexistence, even if they are very critical of one another.

"I'm surprised to see you this far. I've heard the rumors in Westeros. But Serrah Rawson seems to be gathering forces from there."

"It belongs with you. Truly, you can do more with it than I ever could." Jaime keeps pace easily. It's funny, now, that they travel like this. Years ago, he was on a leash and the walk seemed endless.

The castle is a beautiful bit of stonework, to be sure, but it doesn't have the glamor of where Mick comes from, or the capitol where Jaime serves. He doesn't complain, though, at least within earshot, so long as his guests are kind to him.

"There wasn't much left for me in Westeros. People know about my children now. They know of Cersei. I was on the verge of losing everything, so I chose to take the move that was offered to me." It's the sad truth, but he'll admit it openly to her.

Years ago he was endlessly annoying her and complaining for a very long, very dull trip. Though there were a few interesting moments that Brienne looks at with fondness now. How long ago was that now?

"Serrah Rawson speaks so highly of you despite that. He admires you. I don't think a day goes by where he doesn't mention your name," there's some furniture that looks incredibly comfortable housing a sleeping cat, and Brienne can't help but gently touch the animal with her glove, even if it does startle the poor thing. The cat is Mick's, and it's a favorite little animal of his.

When they reach the end of a long hallway there's a spare bedroom with the door label torn off. Inside is more Welsh in decoration, but it's comfortable. He lets Jaime step inside first to see if he approves. "Serrah Rawson instructed for you to call me if you need anything. I will...I'll leave you to it."

She's purposefully avoiding titles, using Jaime's name, she'll slip, lose that professional egde, reveal the tiniest bit of emotion. She can't let that happen.

"I'll leave you to settle," don't do it, girl. Don't you dare. Don't- "Unless there's anything else?"

Fuck. FUCK.

"Perfect. I couldn't ask for something this luxurious. I owe him my thanks." He's also getting it because of...other matters. He knows that, but he's hardly going to tell Brienne as much. He doesn't know what she'd think. Then again, she knows about Cersei, and she still has come to treat him with respect.

Then, the pause. There's hesitation, but truly, what does he have to lose now? His position in the Kingsguard? Inconceivable. Mick needs him there, for whatever reasons he's yet to share, and even if he did, he'd have a place in this household, or even another.

"Wait." He moves as if he's about to step forward, and then abruptly pauses. Hesitation. Then, he speaks. "There is one thing. I've been meaning to...for a long time now." His posture straightens, and then the word leaves his mouth like the ghost of a whisper long gone to the wind.

"Brienne..."

He moves forward, his left hand rises to her cheek...and he kisses her.

That, she didn't expect.

The kiss gets a shiver, a soft exhale leaves her lips when it finally parts. There it is, that shake, the way his hand feels on her skin. She doesn't know what to do, until it clicks.

There's a heavy shove and Brienne uses all her strength to push him against the closest wall, glaring down at him and pinning him back against the wall. Their armor clanked together as she forgoes and training and disciple and holds his face with both her hands, a little awkward in the return, but she kisses him, tasting what Cersei seemed to covet and lust for all those years. His smell is clean, and something nags at the back of her mind until she realizes what she's doing.

There's a breath and she lets him go like his touch burns her, eyes wide and there's a frightened look at Jaime before she backs away, almost as if she's ashamed in what she did.

Or she was afraid it was what she wanted from him.

"Jaime," she wants to pretend that didn't happen and she's lying to herself, she's trying to run. It makes a lot of sense. No one looks at her way like that, no one kisses her and no one...no one does what he did. She'll either run or...run. That's the only instinct she has now.

Jaime crashes back against the wall with little contest, hardly surprised to be pushed around like that once more. Nor does he mind, in all honesty. How often is it that two in armor have to worry about this kind of situation? It isn't ideal for a kiss, that's for sure, but it wasn't designed with that in mind. In the moment she has his face in her hands, he's silent, breathless. Bright blue eyes show no signs of weariness or heartache anymore. The little scars on his face only give him character, and she knows how he got so many of them.

As she backs away, his good hand moves against the wall behind himself to press until he finds his balance again. His lips are parted in that way they tend to before he speaks, as he finds his words and the right tone to give them. For once, though, it takes him longer, and there isn't the faintest hint of jesting.

"Don't go." It's a plea. "Please, don't go. I'll not ask anything of you. I would never. It's just...been so long, and..."

They're both safe. They're both where they have to be for now. They're free of the war of the five kings. Free of the reach of even Jaime's father here. There must be relief with that.

There's a moment of consideration, but she doesn't say anything, just stares at him and nods, moving forward again to until his armor. She's slow, hands finding their strength. Everything is slow, his plea making her focus a bit on him. She's never had feelings like this for someone, let alone Jaime fucking Lannister, the fucking Kingslayer. Man without honor.

Oathkeeper.

She pulls at her own armor, knowing it'll be more comfortable. There's no word exchange unless he says something. When enough is removed, she looks at those eyes, trying to understand exactly what's going on.

"I'll stay," it's a long time before she says anything, but as the last bit of armor falls she continues what they started.

It's obvious what this may lead to.

It's been a while, Brienne nor Jay are back. Not that Mick minds, but he was hoping to see Jaime again tonight. But he seems content in Ethan's arms for the time as night draws by, staying up only to hope to catch the knight in his door way until waiting becomes too long.

Jaime watches her as she helps with his armor. He didn't even have to ask. It's not hard to guess he would need it, but there wasn't even a second of judgment or hesitation. People question him when he needs help with menial tasks, but she never has. People goad him for his deeds, but she came to realize the truth behind them.

For a man of his social standing and background, his inexperience in these matters is rather funny, but in this case it's perfect. This is sincere, too. He's breathless and in a state of disbelief all at once, almost scared he's dreaming. He's always been the talkative one, and that hasn't changed.

"I never thought I'd see you again. When you left King's Landing, I...thought that was it for us. My father would never approve. My oaths, too...and I..." Oh, he still has those oaths, but it's clear they don't mean as much to him here.

He wants to stay near. It's life everything depends on it. She's his source of strength, an honest friend, a companion who has stayed near him through the worst that could possibly befall them.

And somewhere, in the middle of all of that, he fell in love.

The final pieces are removed, carefully stacked on the floor. There's something odd in her look, but she glances to the golden hand occasionally, remembering how he was when he first lost it He seems so confident now, adapted, it's strange to think about.

"You were the last I'd thought to leave Westeros and King's Landing," it's quiet, but it's followed with an examination of the hand; her touch oddly gentle, if he could have felt her, her hands would actually be soft. She'll only remove it too if he wanted. "I...I've never..."

Never had something like this.

She's not exactly good with the words, so she doesn't say them. She notices how he leans in her touch; it's a bit of experiment, seeing what makes him do what. It would be a lie to say she's had this intimacy before, it's quite jarring.

"Your oaths don't mean much here," the comment is whispered, but she's focused on how fucking open she feels right now. She doesn't like it, but she doesn't want to hide it. Not yet anyway. "Is what you're saying true?"

Of course she wouldn't believe her. It doesn't make sense, someone...loving her. But she needs to be sure.

He doesn't mind her touching the false hand. It tells him a lot about a person, how they react to it. Some ignore it. Others make jokes, which doesn't do much to his ego anymore. Others still act fascinated. She treats it like it's just an extension of him, an old war wound. And she's so gentle, like she almost thinks he could feel it. The hand is clunky to keep on at night. He'll unlace it himself when the time comes, but he wouldn't stop her from doing so, either. Most of the time, he prefers to do it himself. It's a precious thing, that hand, a gift, and it's truly part of him now.

"Yes." The statement is quiet. "And oaths be damned. Brienne, I love you." His hand moves to her side, now, making sure she's not going to leave him. Not again. "And I don't care what anyone says about it. I don't care about money or titles or stupid, bloody oaths and honor. I care about you."

His gaze is gentle and awestruck, and getting those words out makes him so happy he could very nearly cry of relief.

"You-" She was expecting an "I care about you", "you're my friend", not "I love you" The words terrify her and they make her feel like he's cracked her open, there's too much happening at once and there's no words that she can say that can represent what that's done to her.

There's a brief moment, and then she decides she can't take anymore of it. Fuck his oaths. Fuck her own. Fuck everything he's saying because he's making it very hard to leave. When she's too overwhelmed to do much else she does what her instinct tells her to, shutting him up with her mouth, relaying in her reaction back not in words but in body language Then she stops, head dropping down to relax against his collar, trying not to let emotion wreck her. She's a knight, she's not supposed to cry.

But in every excuse she tries to come up with to tell herself that it's wrong, there's that feeling that lingers about how right this all his. But that wont last long, day will come soon and she doubts word of this can get out.

"I have six hours," it's muttered against his neck, but the fact she doesn't let him go means she intends to enjoy those few hours. "I can stay until then."

He's never learned to be quiet. She has the ability to make him so, however, and she does. There isn't a complaint from him, either. He holds onto her like he's worried they'll be ripped apart again, desperate and broken after so many years of having to lie. To himself, to his father, to Cersei, to the entire Kingdom that watched him. Sometimes he wishes he wasn't born a noble, or at least one so high-ranking. Sometimes he wishes he was born elsewhere, where none of this would be a problem. But would they have ever met, otherwise? Likely not. And he's not sure which is worse- not having a hand and having to lie, or never meeting her at all and likely never being truly happy.

"Please."

It isn't that he didn't hear her. It's that he can't stand the thought of losing the time. He holds himself close, silent and flooded with emotion he shouldn't possess.

He's content to stay there for now, the embrace more than he ever thought he could ask for to begin with. It's funny, too, to feel small for once. He won't say that, though.

One single word floods the depth of his emotions out as if he were bleeding.

Six hours and she barely moves.

Jaime is strange, he changes so much, there's things about him she doesn't yet understand. He can be a man who attempted the murder of a child to protect a secret affair, or one of the most annoying men she's ever had the displeasure of meeting, or...this. Though it's a nice change, even if it is making her wonder how bad things got in Westeros if he's hiding out here and looking for her comfort.

Six hours pass and like clockwork her brain screams at her to wake. She's not sure when she fell asleep, but there's a glance towards Jaime's way, unsure if she actually wants to leave. But duty calls, and Mick will question things if he's the one to search for her. Something is off about him, but the last thing she needs is for either of them to be found out.

Thank god they didn't sleep together.

She can't tell if Jaime's asleep, but she's slipping away quietly. The sun isn't even up yet, but she's not nobility here, she has a duty to perform.

Jaime's asleep when she leaves. The vambrace and right hand rest on a table by the bed. He's faintly curled on one side, arms protectively near his chest. It's a habit he's developed since that day. This man is a lot of things, but right now, he's just...human. Vulnerable. Far from home, and trying to figure himself out. Talk about a complete 180, since they met.

When she's gone, he rests for about an hour more before he shifts awake. He hugs the pillow closest to him before he forces himself to move. He's not surprised she's gone. He's also aware they can't talk about this, either. That makes it worse.

He gets up and gets completely dressed again before calling for whatever squire is assigned to him to help get his armor on. When he leaves, he's back together, all brilliant whites and golds and tired blue eyes.

"I think today we should tell him what's expected of him and what's going to happen." Ethan chatters with Mick as he works on getting dressed, slow process though it is. "He might listen."

"I'd love to. I'll bring Lady Brienne, maybe see if Jaime wants to join in," he's quite chipper this morning, it's rare to see Mick in such a good mood this early. "I think if we break it slowly, he'll pay attention. He knows if he tries anything again it's death, so I dont think we have much to worry about. All men fear death."

He would know. When he's ready and has his robes draped over him, he takes Ethan's side, making sure his husband is presentable before giving him a quick kiss to the forehead. "You wanna handle it? I like it when you put the fear into people. It's sexy."

"Yeah. I've got it." Ethan grins, pleased to hear that. He's really good at it, which is no lie. He knows it, too, and makes sure everyone else does, as well. "I need to get my blood flowing. That will do the trick. "Hopefully it goes smoothly enough. I think he's smart enough to understand."

Assembling the troops doesn't take too long. Jaime isn't tense, but he does seem like he had a rough night. Funny, how those things go.

Ethan approaches first. Sebastian is in a comfortable enough room, currently seated at a table. His hands are manacled, but there's length between the cuffs when it comes to the chain. He looks up when the door opens and announces arrival, but he stays where he is.

"Come to gloat, have you?" He's exhausted. His eyes are bloodshot and there's a nervous bounce in one of his legs.

"Here to talk about the future." Ethan replies, moving to stand in front of the table directly. "You're going nowhere. You know that. And even if you did get to leave, what are you going to do? You have no lands. You'll be officially stripped of your title come the morning when Jaime passes word to the capitol. You've got nowhere left to turn, so you need to remember who has protected you from death."

"Some job you've done."

Mick leads his own little band, though he's lead in by Brienne. She gives a quick glance Jaime's way, and the most she does is nod. But there's a look on her face, something like...intense calm.

She has no regrets of their night together.

Mick piles in behind Ethan, and Brienne joins Jaime's side, mostly unconsciously, but also because here she's one of the higher ranking officers. Mick watches as Ethan speaks, smiling and seeming to enjoy what's happening here.

"Hey says when we've made him comfortable and provided his care," Mick comments, but he knows if Sebastian reacts, the guards there would be happy to shut him up. He's leaning against a pillar, comfortably enjoying Sebastian's attitude here.

"I've been with you a grand total of a week and a half now, maybe two, and you already act as if I should grovel at your feet for taking everything away from you."
"We didn't take everything, you fool. Your lack of good judgment and lack of watch took everything away from you. Your family, your name, your home. It's all on your shoulders." Ethan's words are harsh and sharp now. "You brought this on yourself."

"Oh, cut the bullshit, you pompous-"

Ethan doesn't wait on someone else to do it. He slaps Sebastian, HARD, and his ring leaves a mark. Seb gasps and exhales sharply as pain flares through his face.

"Watch your tongue."

"You'd like that, wouldn't you? To have me just...shut up and obey?"

"No, I'd like for you to keep a tongue so you might be somewhat useful. But if I have to cut it out, I will."

Ooo, that's hot. Brienne gives the slightest twitch, though Mick thinks he notices a brush of her hand against Jaime's prosthetic. Probably nothing, she just moved. Mick whistles when the slap comes, almost laughing at Sebastian's expense. Stupid boy. He's dealing with a Krieg.

He doesn't say anything, he wants to watch Ethan take care of this. But there is some murmuring from a guard in back to another, Rawson probably, who didn't exactly expect that. There's going to be talk of Ethan's sternness, that's what Mick needs, people to fear him.

"If we wanted to do anything to harm you, it would have already been done. You're being given a mercy, Castellanos. One many don't get the opportunity to have in your position.

"Is this your idea of mercy?" Sebastian doesn't touch his face. He's almost daring Ethan for a second slap. "You've taken my home from me and put me in chains. What twisted idea of mercy do you harbor in this shithole that-"

This time, the blow is a lot harder. Sebastian topples to the floor.

"You will speak with respect or you will have none given to you."

"My Lord." Jaime speaks up, now. "Lord Castellanos is still in my hands until I leave. I think it would be wise-"

"That's enough, Kingslayer."

"...Yes, my lord."

Kingslayer. Ethan is playing hardball. Jaime's words are...kind. But that's not what's needed here. There's a glance to husband, clearly Mick isn't going to interfere. But he is the mediator, generally, so he does speak up.

"You took your own home when you attacked me," his voice is stern, but if Sebastian's smart, he wont fight him on that. Mick is the only one between him and Ethan right now. "We can either leave you in chains, and keep you in the prisons, or you cooperate, accept the charges that are against you, and live here peacefully until you die. There's no way you can get your title back, nor your home. But arrangements are made to make you comfortable. You can either be a citizen, or a prisoner. Your words towards my husband dictate your choice, Castellanos."

"..." Sebastian is silent for a while before he speaks. "You bring me in the company of your adoptive, bloodthirsty house, a man without honor, and you take everything away from me, even the weight my name should bear, and you have the idea to tell me I'm grateful. That is..." A pause, and he looks straight to Jaime. "You. You know. Your job is to protect me. What in the seven hells are you doing?" Jaime doesn't answer, mouth a thin line. "Well? What NOW, you backstabbing traitor?"

Jaime holds his tongue. Sebastian just laughs.
"Fine. You know what? If this is how the world will treat me, I'm done fighting against it. There's obviously no place for the just anymore."

"Good choice," he eyes Sebastian again before gently touching Ethan's back. "Brienne, take him to where we discussed. Make sure he has food, water, whatever he needs. Do not return to me until his comfort is maximized. Ethan, we have business, if we're done here?"

He doesn't wait for Brienne's yes sir, he just expects it now. The guardswoman is firm, but she's not going out of her way to harm him. There's a glance to Jaime, but right now she's focused on her new charge. All she needs now is Ethan's confirmation.

Sebastian won't put up a bother. He's not an idiot, and he knows he's cornered. He stands and waits, hardly needing to be manhandled. While not a soldier, he's not useless with weapons, and while he's definitely slimmer than some might think he is, he's probably stronger than Mick is.

"Of course. Wise choice, Sebastian. A very wise choice." With that, he's all ears for Mick's business. When they've left, after Brienne and Jaime have done so, unless the Kingsguard is held back. Jaime is silent for now. The nickname hardly destroyed him, but it feels like betrayal, somewhat.

"This way," Jaime is free to come if he wishes, but Brienne is paying him no mind. She ushers him forward, leading him from the castle to the villa Mick chose for him, Rawson in architecture but Krieg in decor, seems Mick likes to mix it up.. It's nice, ridiculously nice, spacious, something not at all fit for a political prisoner.

WHen they arrive she opens the door, and undoes his chains. Her hand goes to Oathkeeper in warning, and she waits for him to enter his new home. He'll be stuck here for a long time, it'd be best if he instantly decides he's comfortable.

When his hands are released, he quietly thanks her. When her hand moves to Oathkeeper in warning, his own go up partway, palms displayed towards her. He's not going to try. His hands fall back to his side, and he steps into his home. It's...nice. A gilded cage. Hopefully he'll be allowed outside sometimes. He can live with this, and honestly even more than that.

He doesn't speak, but he seems alright. At least, as much as a man in his position can be. NOW what? He has plenty of time to get to know the place. He's in no rush.

Jaime feels a bit out of place, and so for now he makes himself scarce. Of course, he can be found, if needed. He won't leave until told he needs to. He doesn't want to leave, either. Not with Brienne here.

She drops her guard, she's learned to be a bit less cagey, and he has a reputation of being a man of his word. She doesn't enter his home, just watches from her spot, leaning in to be sure everything is well. When she judges he's fine, she turns away, leaving him to wander his new home. Someone will be there to bring him what he needs, and that's not her job.

Mick's off to see jaime. And rightfully so, the man must be leaving soon. He's looking everywhere, trying to find out where the knight must be. Not only is Jaime his...well, partner, he's his friend as well. It make sense he'd see him before he went.

He passes Brienne on the way and she tells him Sebastian is settling and receiving any help he needs. The news earns her a warm smile, and she asks to accompany him to give farewells. Eventually they do find him, and Mick is nothing but genuine.

"Jaime. I'd like to see you off. Brienne wishes to bid you farewell as well."

Jaime is packed and ready to go, having prepared for his solo ride. He's unafraid to make it, too. But the arrival of Mick and Brienne breaks him from his thought process. He's glad she came, but he can't show too much of it. What's worse is that Mick requires a reaction, too, given the fact they've been...well, it's just necessary.

"Thank you. That's very kind, my Lord." Jaime smiles, helmet tucked under his right arm. "And you, too, Brienne. It won't be a dangerous ride. I still have my duties in the capitol, until I am sent elsewhere, be it here or somewhere new."

"We will miss you. Brienne tells me you were friends. I'm glad you two had a little reunion. I have business to attend to. She will show you out. You've done good work for your new country, Jay," the nickname slips and he doesn't think anything of it. He doesn't know what happened between them in Westeros, or does he care right now. He extends a hand to Jaime, waiting on a shake from his left, until he leaves. Brienne watches her charge, before her eyes flick to Jaime.

When they're alone, she finally speaks. "I regret seeing you leave. I've...it's been cold here. I've missed a familiar face. Yours. I'll miss it again"

The nickname doesn't get a reaction from him. He simply goes with it, extends his good hand for the shake, and lets it drop back to his side when it's time to let it do so. He hesitates now, suppressing a shiver. At what, he doesn't know. Being out of Mick's presence is a relief.

Those words nearly tear a hole through his chest, bigger than any spear or arrow possibly could.

"And I yours." How alone are they, truly? How painful does he want to make this parting? And then, he remembers something. If he took Mick's offer...or if he sided with Krieg for the throne and threw off his oaths...he could...

He could come back. He could stay in Ethan's service instead, or even Mick's. He could be here, with Brienne.

But he'd be in Mick's clutches, and how many nights would he have to spend in that bed instead?

"The first parting was hard enough. This is agony."

The words get inhale. But for some reason she's confident in a response.

"I would go with you if I could. But this is my home now, and I am in service to Serrah Rawson. But if..there was anyway. I would."

She reaches over for his hands, even cradling the golden one as if it wasn't a prosthetic instead of his flesh she was stroking. At least she's showing some initiative. A rare thing, a smile, comes from her, and almost as quickly as it came it's gone. She has her back to him, no one passing by would be able to see anything beyond the touching. But it's beautiful outside, most of the nobility will be doing other things.

"It's redundant to tell you to be safe. But I've been on the road to the capital before, Krieg's lands are dangerous. I will worry."

His good hand turns to take hers, and if the touch is all he can have, it's what he'll take, without complaint.

"You would hate the capitol. It's not as bad as King's Landing was, but it's bad enough. The same type of people, the same type of gossip and bullying. It's not for you. Your blood doesn't run cold enough." That's a distinct complement.

"We've taken dangerous roads together before, and we took one to get here alone. I'll make this trip." It's a promise. "And when the move for the throne happens, which I very well think Krieg intends to make, you'll see me again."

Hopefully it isn't on the battlefield.

"I will wait," that's a heavy commitment. But what does she have to lose? Finding someone else is very doubtful, and in Jaime's place, she doesn't worry about that. There's a brief hesitation, and then she presses just a gentle kiss on his jaw, having to bend just a bit to get the angle right. But it would look more like a parting friendship kiss whan anything to outsiders.

"Do you need aid with your things?"

Gods, he wishes he could make it more than that.

"I'm...situated and ready to go. Thank you, though." Jaime smiles weakly, clearly loathe to leave. But if they drag this out, it's worse. "I'll...see you again soon, this time." That's a promise.

"Goodbye for now, Brienne. Forcing himself to move once they've had their moment, his face lowers and he moves to mount. With a look back, the Lannister is clearly fighting back emotions. And then, he's off...and soon enough, he's gone.