Author's notes: Welcome back for a new chapter! Thank you all for your support, your enthusiasm, and your loyalty! I am so grateful to have you all for an audience.

I apologize for the delay in getting the chapter out. Moving pains, ya know?

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Chapter 113

Margaery VI

She placidly watched a seemingly endless field of trees pass by the carriage window. Margaery could hardly say she was eager to go north. Already she was further north than she had ever been and needed to wear a blanket around her shoulders to ward off the chill. Even worse, she would be far from the epicenter of politics and would be forced to rely on her grandmother and her brother to do what they could to shape the landscape in her favor. Gone was the bustle of servants and countless noble ladies to rub elbows with. Margaery had enjoyed applying her wits to the women around her and threading the needle to where they were pleased and she was pleased. It was a challenge and she thrived on challenges. Admittedly, if Lord Lannister was correct, she might have her hands full with the ladies of the North.

It had reached her ear in King's Landing that the northern lords were grumbling over the Stark heir marrying yet another southron and ignoring their daughters. They would be singing a different tune once the snows arrived and buried the land. In the caravan, they were hauling two dozen wagon loads of grain, fruit, and vegetables to supply the North.

There were multiple instances on this trip already where Margaery cursed King Aemon and Lord Lannister internally for being unwilling to marry her. With one of them, she would be in the thick of it all in King's Landing or at worst in the depths of Casterly Rock, the largest castle, but still barely more than a jump, hop, and a skip away from the Reach. In the North, she would be alone save for two of her cousins who joined her as ladies-in-waiting.

Margaery had been raised to be a queen and manage court, but there was no such luck for her. Now it had to be the future of one of her daughters. She at least had learned the necessary lessons from her grandmother so that she could pass down her wisdom. She would just have to bide her time.

Despite her disappointment at being far away from things warm and familiar, it was not all bad. Robb was nearly the kind and gentle prince from the childhood tales she'd listened to as a girl. He was loving and every night, he came down from the front of the line to help her out of her carriage and escort her to their tent. He was generous in his lovemaking and made an effort to make her feel pleasure. A dreamy smile came to her lips and she sank a little further into the cushions of the carriage as she relaxed, thinking of how every night Robb took the opportunity to sneak a quick fuck. There was something thrilling about trying to stay quiet while he was pleasuring her. No, Robb Stark was certainly one of the best men she could've hoped to marry.

For all of her sadness about leaving court in King's Landing, there was great opportunity to be had in the North. It was severely underdeveloped. White Harbor was the only significant port and it lacked a navy. Given that the Ironborn were still pests in the west, it seemed sensible to remedy that deficit. And while the land was tilled and crops were sown, the North had little in the way of trade or mining. When she had been learning about the North from Robb, they often viewed maps and she took a mental note on the mountains that stood between Torrhen's Square and Hornwood territory, just south of Winterfell. It seemed a likely place to find precious minerals.

While the land was vast and largely flat, she had also noticed a number of major rivers winding their way through the land like arteries. She wondered how large they were and if anyone had thought to make use of them to shorten the distance for trade routes. Given how wild the North was, she had her doubts that they were better developed than anything else.

It would be some time yet before she got the chance to wheedle and manipulate Robb into making changes. Lord Stark was still quite young. If he was like many lords, he was apt to cling to the lordship until he was dead in the ground. It could be another forty years before she had a chance to do what she wished with the North. She might have to start early, but she would wait to think about that until she had her first child.

She rested her hands on the growing bulge of her stomach and tapped her fingers impatiently. She still had three or four months until the baby arrived and she was eager to see whether it was a boy or a girl. Whichever sex it was, she could hardly contain her excitement. She had, of course, played with her nieces and nephews as a girl and then was a bit more involved once she was older. Every single woman had always told her how different and full of love they felt for their own children. She couldn't wait to shower her little one with the love he or she so richly deserved.

She was already thinking about names. It was traditional to name children for long-dead relatives, but she could hear her grandmother scoffing at the thought of naming a son after her grandfather. You want him to ride off a cliff too? There were at least plenty of successful Tyrell men: Alester, Lyonel, Martyn, Harlen, and Matthos. She hoped Robb would be open to a southron name. His own name was not traditionally northern.

If her grandmother died while she was still bearing children, she was bound and determined to name one of her girls Olenna. It might make the girl a terror to raise, but Margaery hoped she could see a little bit of her grandmother's spirit in the girl. It was too early to think of that as well. Her grandmother was hearty and hale; she would be alive for years yet.

Margaery was jarred from her reverie back to the present and glared at the cause. Alysanne Bolton nee Lefford knocked on the door of the carriage to relieve herself in the woods. Margaery suspected that she was pregnant as well given how often she needed a piss. She wouldn't waste the opportunity to go herself, but she was not about to be lenient with Lady Bolton.

It was Margaery's firm belief that honey attracted flies better than vinegar, but now she was saving all of her vinegar for Alysanne. It infuriated her that she had actively planned to usurp Margaery's own position as Lady of the North and murder her husband Robb. Of that, she was certain there was no mistake. It now explained Alysanne's cold demeanor at her and Robb's wedding. She had often acted smugly superior at tea, which made Margaery want to grit her teeth. Once Domeric spilled the secret of his family's treason, it became obvious that Alysanne was fully aware of the reason behind her own marriage to Domeric Bolton. While, yes, she knew that in that plan she was expected to marry Jaime as his queen, it had infuriated her that a lady could ever be involved in such a dastardly and violent plan. She wasn't about to grant Lady Alysanne any leniency of her own.

By far, her least favorite part about the journey north was that she was forced to be crammed into close quarters with Lady Bolton. The lady seemed to be aware of Margaery's fury because she looked unnaturally pale and furtive. Margaery took every opportunity to glare at her. Her cousins had picked up on her dislike of Lady Alysanne and acted in kind.

After Alysanne departed, Margaery waited for a beat before stepping out herself. She sighed as she felt her muscles loosen after being forced into the cramped quarters of the carriage for hours on end. The road wasn't quite as smooth as she was hoping, so the bumpiness was causing her nausea from her pregnancy to get worse. She'd made sure to vomit on Alysanne already.

Her cousins followed her out to assist her. They walked toward the edge of the forest. Margaery felt her lip curl when she saw Alysanne down the way, puking on the side of the road. She was almost assuredly pregnant then. Once she'd finished up in the woods, they returned to the carriage. Alysanne was loitering at the side of the carriage, still looking green in the gills.

While they waited, a Tyrell servant presented them a lunch tray of cured meats, cheese, and crackers. Margaery ate what she could. She had noticed an uptick in her appetite. Once she had related the news to her grandmother, she was treated to an endless stream of advice about how best to treat the daily sickness. The way her grandmother told it, she'd been vomiting every day carrying Margaery's father. This child was not giving her nearly as much grief, so she thanked the Mother for the relative ease of her pregnancy.

Margaery began to grow increasingly impatient as time dragged and still Alysanne had not returned to the carriage. She huffed and pulled herself out of the carriage, "Lady Bolton, if you will, before we grow old," she snapped.

It was times like this she wished she was allowed to ride her horse, but all of the maesters, including Healer David, had forbidden it.

"Begging your pardon, my lady," Alysanne rasped.

Margaery made a disgusted noise and returned to her seat.

Her cousin, Almeada, gave her a troubled look. She then licked her lips nervously and said, "This isn't like you, Margaery. Is this really right?"

Margaery's demeanor was cold as she locked eyes with Almeada. "She attempted to usurp my position as Lady of the North and conspired to murder my husband in his sleep. It's no less than she deserves," she replied with finality.

Both of her cousins' eyes went wide and they gasped. "Are you sure she—?"

"I know she did," Margaery whispered. If the North hadn't been suspicious of the Boltons before, they were certainly the most hated family in the North now. No matter what Domeric did to turn on his father and honor his true king, the name of Bolton was disgraced. There could be a time when Margaery would have to shelve her dislike to foster a better relationship with the Boltons. Perhaps Margaery's ire would lessen in time, but for now, she was determined to make Alysanne's life hell.

|-The Dragon's Roar-|

Jaime XXXVII

When he saw Harrenhal looming over the horizon, he took his horse out of the column and stared. It looked the same as it always did; the turrets were a melted and corroded lump. There were hallways that were forever opened to the sky because of Aegon the Conqueror and Balerion the Black Dread. It was a castle that seemed to pass from person to person, though Lady Whent had kept it in the family for some decades now. It was suspected to be cursed owing to all the men who had died there. It seemed fitting that the point of his return would happen in such a foreboding place.

He had thought back to the memory of the bath he'd shared with Brienne. His memory had been blurred with fever and while most of the details eluded him, it was somehow seared into his skull that he had spilled his greatest secret to her there. He remembered that she had been simultaneously alarmed and captivated. He had ever so slowly noticed the crack in her armor as the truth of his words rolled over in her brain. Most people would have waved them away, spit at him, called him weak, or worse yet, they would have cheered him for his kingslaying. But that was when she'd actually thought it over and listened. She had put herself in his shoes and understood the point he was trying to make.

This Brienne had never been forced to face such hard truths. At worst, she'd had to see the trial of Renly Baratheon. Perhaps worse yet, she'd watched the trial of Tywin Lannister. Maybe that had given her an inkling at how precarious Jaime's position was to have to choose his king over his own father. Still, there was nothing like wondering if her beloved King Renly would have ordered the murder of babes and what she would have done about it, if anything.

He wasn't about to pose such questions to her, but he intended her to know some hard truths. As much as it twisted his insides, she needed to know about the time before. She needed to know that, in another time, he had bedded his own sister and begat three children. That he had thrown Bran Stark from the tower.

The Brienne before had heard these truths and forgiven him. Would this one do the same? It made him nauseated to think about it. Any normal person would be aghast with horror at the thought of such misdeeds, but she couldn't know who he was without them.

Is that such a bad thing? A small thought rose in the back of his head. Did she need to know? He had no idea, but he felt like their relationship would be incomplete without telling her about it and it seemed ill-advised to skirt the truth. Brienne was also perceptive; she'd know if he was hiding something.

"Jaime?"

He turned to her. She and Pod had both nudged their horses out of the line and she drew herself even with him. Podrick lingered a few feet back.

"What is it?" she asked, glancing at the castle. Her voice was a calm sky blue with hints of darker concern.

"It's Harrenhal." He was pleased that his voice came out a light green.

"So I've heard," she replied and grew somber. He wondered which accursed event she was thinking of.

Jaime called back to Pod, "Grab our things. We're off for a little jaunt." He kicked his horse to a trot and found Ser Addam. "You're in charge while I'm gone."

Ser Addam gave him a knowing look. "Yes, my Lord."

Once Podrick had their food and tents, Jaime began leading the way by galloping his horse around the south side of the castle, across the greenery. Brienne and Podrick hustled to keep up.

"Where are we going?" Brienne shouted.

"Nowhere," Jaime cried back, giving her a smirk.

"Why?!" she screamed back. He laughed as he thought of the frustrated red tendrils of her voice.

"Why not? Where's your sense of adventure?" Jaime teased and snapped the reins so that Agro would break into a full sprint. In a matter of moments, all he could hear was the sound of his own horse, so he looked back to see Brienne working her own horse into a run in a bid to catch up with him. Pod lagged far behind them, still keeping his horse to a slow gallop now that it was laden with their gear.

Jaime rode his horse hard, keeping just ahead of Brienne as he led the way around the far side of Harrenhal until it broadened into the flat plains where the original tourney had taken place. There was nothing lingering from that fateful moment. The tents had been torn down and the stakes pulled up. While there had been grass flattened in the wake of stands, it had long since grown back. The grass was now knee-high and stirred gently in the breeze. While the sky was overcast, the rain had since let up and a warm breeze made the day pleasant.

Jaime finally began to slow Agro to a gallop so that she could catch her breath. Brienne came up behind him, red in the face. She gave him an irritated look, but he returned it with a cocky smirk until she was smiling again.

"I'm still becoming familiar with horses," she explained. "I've never ridden one at full speed. There's no need on an island like Tarth. I rarely ever used one."

"Well, I'm sure Carrol enjoyed stretching out his legs."

"Coral. Her name is Coral," Brienne replied in exasperation, but then a giggle escaped her lips, a combination of orange and green. "So, is there a particular reason you insisted on coming out here?"

"Marching in a column is quite a dull affair. I thought it'd be a welcome change of pace to get out and explore a little."

She frowned at him. "And you chose Harrenhal?"

"I should think so. We'll have the landscape all to ourselves," he replied.

"Is the castle empty?"

"No, no, there are servants thereabouts. The lord has long perished and the son too. It's only Lady Whent who is left. If you insisted on a bed, I think we could arrange a dinner with her." He winked.

She rolled her eyes. "Are you sure you're not the one in need of a bed?"

He gasped. "You wound me, my lady. I am not so old."

"The sound of your back begs to differ."

He chuckled and winked suggestively. "Just … stiff in the morning is all."

She blushed to her roots and Jaime had to turn away to hide his laughter. It had been nearly two months since they married, yet she still blushed like a young maiden. He almost hoped that she would never get used to his innuendo so that he could forever see her like this.

"Did you bring us out here to … to … to make love?" Brienne asked and looked like she expected her father to swoop in and have her tongue. Her voice was a mixture of green and yellow.

"Now that would be a treat," Jaime replied. His voice was sultry and green, "But no, that is not why I insisted. I wanted a little privacy, is all."

"You're not concerned the army will leave us behind?"

"Brienne, the army travels barely ten miles a day. We'll catch them easily enough tomorrow," Jaime said.

"I suppose it can't hurt to have a few moments of peace. We haven't been able to train since leaving," Brienne said, dismounting from her horse.

"Indeed," Jaime muttered and followed suit.

Once Pod reached them, Jaime ordered him to start setting up camp and then they took their horses and began walking them to cool them off. They did not speak and Jaime's earlier mirth faded like the winter sun and was replaced by the gloom of his determination. This was a long time coming. He'd been thinking on it since before they were married and now that he lived with her, he found it nigh intolerable that she was not familiar with their history. At the very least, she should learn what an inspiration she had been.

They helped Pod set up the camp. He and Jaime erected the tents and Brienne organized their gear. She made a teasing comment about bringing half the kitchenware for their single night sojourn and Pod's own ear tips went red. Jaime worked to smother his smile, but it cheered him that she was beginning to loosen her stiff demeanor.

She volunteered to cook dinner, but for lunch they stuck with the usual fare of dried meat, chunks of hard bread, and an apple each. They allowed the birds and the sound of the wind to be the background to their meal.

As the day wore on, Jaime carefully tracked the sun. It was setting earlier and earlier. They were rapidly nearing the end of summer and approaching the beginning of autumn. He intended on speaking with Brienne well before sunset so that they would have the time and so he would catch anyone trying to sneak up on them.

"How about that bout, my lady?" Jaime said, offering his hand to help her to her feet.

Her blue eyes, dulled from the endless days of traveling, came alight with a spark of interest and she allowed herself to be helped to her feet. "I'm looking forward to it," she said.

Jaime smirked. "Pod, tend to the horses."

"Yes, m'lord," Pod replied and busied himself with removing their saddles and brushing them down.

Jaime led Brienne away. After a few minutes walking, she spoke in a teasing voice, "I think we're far enough away to not disturb Pod."

"Bear with me," Jaime said, looking back to smirk at her.

Pod was merely a speck in the distance once they finally stopped and Jaime looked around. They were the only figures in the field. Harrenhal was several hundred yards to the northwest and the forest was a hundred yards to their east.

He looked at Brienne and she raised her eyebrows in question.

"It's been a long time, but even I remember that this was the field where the fights took place. The pavilion for King Aerys was just over there," he said, gesturing in Harrenhal's direction. "I was so excited to show my mettle. But the king named me to the Kingsguard and promptly sent me straight back to King's Landing." He sighed. "I never got to see Ser Arthur compete. I wasn't present for when Rhaegar placed the crown on Lady Lyanna's head. It's so difficult to imagine how that single event shaped Westeros," he murmured.

Brienne stepped up next to him and frowned over the area. "My father passed up going to Harrenhal. He was never one for tourneys and I was but a babe during this one. I didn't learn about it until I was nearly a woman grown. He spoke of Prince Rhaegar and Lady Lyanna as a cautionary tale. That even the nicest men have a dark side."

Jaime turned and flinched at that. You have no idea, he thought.

"I saw it as even greater motivation to be a knight," she finished. "I promised myself I would not fall into the same trap."

"Hard not to if it's a prince that makes off with you. A prince and three Kingsguard," Jaime said dully.

"That's true, but I could fight to the death."

"Well, your life at least didn't come to that and never should," Jaime said, giving her a tight smile. She looked puzzled by his change of demeanor. In the next instant, he was smirking at her and unsheathed his sword. "Go on and fight me like we're the last two in the tourney."

At first, she did. They both fought ferociously, circling, attacking, and counter-attacking. The sound of their swords striking echoed across the field and vanished into the wind. Brienne still struggled most with being as light on her feet as Jaime. He was quick and vicious, but he went for moves that would knock her off balance as opposed to killing blows. She was able to meet and counter every attack for several minutes until Jaime slapped the sword from her hand.

She sighed in frustration.

Jaime grinned. "I swear, you've improved tenfold since we left. Have you been sneaking training behind my back?"

"I never thought it before, but there is some benefit to resting and time to reassess. Thinking on our fights has shown me how best I can improve," she replied.

"Good. Again?"

He characteristically teased her with the blade before leaping in to deal a blow, but she had her sword ready to deflect. Jaime stepped up on the offensive, driving her back. She was brought low and Jaime swung his sword down. She caught it in a block and then in a humongous show of strength, threw him off. He staggered and she rushed. He wasn't able to bring his sword up and she smashed her sword on his hand to make him drop it then put her blade at his throat.

"Ow," Jaime whined, rubbing at his hand. "Must you be so cruel?"

"I never took you for a poor loser," Brienne said with a grin and pulled him to his feet.

"That was good, Brienne. I'm proud of you," he replied and gave her a genuine smile. "Or perhaps I've lost a step since being on the road."

"I'm not going to allow you to minimize this victory," she said and punched him in the shoulder.

"I knew you'd best me someday. Now I have to see about besting you back!"

"It was a good bout," she said, sheathing her sword. "Best to end on a high note."

Jaime's smile faltered. "Uh, yes, that is most preferable." He ran his hand through his hair and looked around. Pod was still with the horses. They were the only souls in the immediate vicinity. He glanced at the sun and saw it just over the trees. It was now or never.

"Are you well?" Brienne asked.

"Brienne, I, uh, I didn't bring you out here just to get a moment's peace. I had … other reasons," he said, cursing himself for his stammering. He hated the way his voice wobbled with blue and yellow hues.

Her eyes searched his face for an answer and then asked, "Such as?"

"Well, um, hmm, this will be … difficult to believe, but I swear that every word I am about to utter is true."

Brienne nodded. "Go on."

"First, you have to swear that you will not tell anyone what I'm about to tell you."

She pursed her lips. "But you haven't said what it is."

"Swear," Jaime snapped.

"Very well." She pulled out her sword and bent down on one knee. "I swear on my honor that I will not speak of or share this secret."

Jaime let out a breath and relaxed. She was Brienne. Her word was as good as gold. He thought for a moment how to start and blurted out the first thing to come to mind, "This isn't my first time here."

"At Harrenhal? But I know that. You just told me."

He winced. "No, this isn't my first life."

Brienne cocked her head at him. "What?"

"There exists another time where I lived as Ser Jaime Lannister and the king lived as Jon Snow and manned the Wall. The Gods brought us back to … set things right," Jaime said.

She opened her mouth to speak but no words came out. After several beats of silence she said, "Beg pardon?"

"There was another life where the world went to shit. Westeros failed to unite before the Long Night fell upon us and all of us perished. From what I've gathered, the Gods were not pleased by that and they forced me and Aemon to relive it and change the course of events."

"It all started when King Robert Baratheon first married my sister, Cersei," he began. Before he could stop himself, he launched into his explanation of how he fucked his sister and fathered her children. He could hardly look her in the eyes. When their eyes did meet, Brienne seemed stuck in a state of shock. He went on to explain about Jon Arryn's death, how they visited Winterfell where he only vaguely had met Jon Snow before he left for the Wall, how he had nearly killed Bran Stark throwing him from the top of a tower to protect his and his sister's secret. He hurried the story to King's Landing and glossed over the injury that Ned Stark had incurred.

Jaime looked at her to see her reaction when he detailed how Robb Stark had captured him at Riverrun, but her face was drawn and cold. He stumbled over his words but continued. It was too late to stop.

"Now, this is where you come in. Renly had declared himself king and married Margaery Tyrell to get the Reach on his side. As I understand it, you were named to his Rainbow guard after you beat Loras Tyrell in a tourney. I know how much he meant to you. Unfortunately, Stannis had him assassinated the night before they were supposed to be engaged in battle. You were accused of murdering him because you were in the tent when it happened. To escape slaughter, you fled with Catelyn Stark and made a vow to serve her."

Brienne had finally thawed and she was startled by the revelations. She still loves Renly, he thought. The Brienne before had eventually accepted his loss, but it seemed this one was still not quite over him. It mattered little. Renly was at the Wall and Brienne could not join him there.

"There was some back and forth—"

"Who killed him?" Her voice was flaming orange.

"Hmm?"

"Renly. Who killed him?"

"I said Stannis—"

"—had him assassinated. While I have never fought against Stannis, if I could best Ser Loras, I could almost certainly best him. So who killed him that I could not stop?" she demanded. There were bright spots of pink in her cheeks.

Jaime's mouth worked soundlessly and then he began, "Well, that might be difficult to believe."

"Any more difficult than what you're telling me now?"

"When Stannis declared himself king, he took up with a red priestess, a follower of the Lord of Light, R'hllor. Her name was Melisandre. You told me yourself that a shadow killed Renly. Ser Davos confirmed that it was Melisandre who, uh, summoned it," Jaime explained.

Brienne blinked and her mouth fell open. She shook her head. "You're right, I don't believe it. But a shadow is the only thing that could get past me."

Besides me? Jaime thought to say but bit his tongue. He could sense she wasn't in the mood for levity.

"You took your vow to Lady Catelyn very seriously. When word came down that her young sons had been murdered by Theon Greyjoy, she entrusted me to you. She charged you with taking me back to King's Landing to exchange for her daughters. You took the oath as seriously as the Kingsguard's oath is to the king. I was a right cad to you. I hampered you at every turn, insulted you with every breath." He gave her a crooked smile but it was weak. "I regret those words; all my actions did was invite trouble."

"Bolton men found us and captured us. They pulled you aside to rape you, but I told them that Tarth was known as the sapphire islands because of its sapphire mines and that they could get your weight in jewels as a ransom. They set you aside, but they took my swordhand," Jaime said. At the memory, he felt a searing pain and he rubbed it absentmindedly. While the memory had dulled with time, it was still the greatest pain he had ever experienced. Aemon stabbing him to kill the Night King had been a mere pinprick by comparison.

"They tied us together and you cared for me. You pushed me to live even while I was being consumed by fever. By the luck of the Stranger, I pulled through, but I was very weak. They brought us here, to Harrenhal," he said, gesturing vaguely to the castle.

Brienne blinked and glanced toward the castle. Her eyes lingered on it as if she expected to find evidence of their original passing.

"It was in the baths at Harrenhal that I first spilled the secret about the wildfire and King Aerys to you. I had never told anyone else to that moment. I think … you were the first one to see me as Jaime Lannister and not the Kingslayer. All of this time, I thought it was Cersei who had really seen me for whom I was, but that ended up not being true. While I would not wish death on the children I fathered, I did come to understand how terrible of a sin I had committed." Brienne's face had become unreadable again and Jaime saw his own voice shift from blue to muddied as his confidence wavered.

"We had dinner with Lord Bolton. He had you in this … Sevens' awful pink dress. It deserved to burn. He was going to escort me to King's Landing, but you were to stay behind. We'd been gone a day when I decided that I would not go to King's Landing without you. We hustled back and got there in time to see you'd been thrown into a pit with naught but a wooden sword and a grizzly bear. You fought valiantly, as you always do, but the bear had scratched your collar bone."

"Vargo Hoat refused to pull you out so I jumped in instead. Those escorting me would've suffered an unpleasant fate if anything happened to me, so I used that to force their hand and pull you out. We escaped by the skin of our teeth," Jaime said, his voice blue and green once more.

If he wasn't mistaken, she had softened in the retelling, but she remained silent. He went on to explain that they made it back to King's Landing. They had run into the complication of Sansa being married to Tyrion and could no longer really take her back to her mother. His sister would no longer look at him with his stump, his father lectured him about being his heir but he refused to leave the Kingsguard, Joffrey acted as the Mad King reborn, and he gifted her Oathkeeper.

On and on, he went. The sun drifted down past the trees and cast them in their long shadow. He quickened the pace of his retelling so that they wouldn't have to pick their way back to Pod through the dark. He spoke of the beginning of the Long Night, and how he sent her and the Stark sisters away to save them.

"You left with Sansa and Arya to guard them on their way to the Eyrie. You were attacked by bandits and they killed you. Oathkeeper passed to Podrick. We have no idea if they ever made it to the Eyrie. The Night King dogged our every step and picked us off gradually. We had one last stand. I helped Aemon kill the Night King, but I died as well. Then I woke up back in King's Landing on the day my sister was to marry King Robert Baratheon,"Jaime finished with finality and his shoulders slumped. Revisiting the entire story reminded him of how exhausted he felt. He felt like a man in his sixties instead of his thirties.

The silence stretched between them. Brienne had interrupted at parts of the story, mostly to ask clarifying questions, but otherwise had stayed quiet. He studied her, but in the fading light, he had difficulty discerning what she might be feeling. The last clear look he'd seen from her, she looked … hollow. Overwhelmed. The silence was beginning to torture him and he finally broke it with a wavering yellow void, "Well?"

"Well, what? What am I supposed to make of this?" she snapped, her voice a vibrant red. "It's impossible, but you swear it's true. I want to say it … it sounds true. Because the person you say is me sounds like me. And yet … you fucked your sister?!" she exclaimed, her voice a violent red. He flinched. "You threw a boy out of a window because he caught you fucking? Lord Stark died because of you. Joffrey was your son! The Starks were nearly extinguished mostly because of you! How many countless men, women, and children died because your children were passed off as heirs to the throne?"

Jaime drew his mouth into a grim line. "I'm not proud of the man I was. I was arrogant and a fool. My carelessness and idiocy knew no bounds. I've suffered and paid for that."

"Have you?" Brienne asked, her eyes flashing. "I thought I knew you. I was so certain the arrogance was an act, but you've been lying to me all of this time."

"Were you in my position, would you have told yourself? You would've thought me mad and I'd be nowhere! I had no choice!"

"You tricked me," she snarled. "You ensnared me in this marriage so that I would have no escape!"

"Is that so? What's stopping you from leaving? Your honor? Feel free to live out your days as a celibate on Tarth. I wouldn't be able to stop you," he roared.

She recoiled and he could see the hurt on her face, but he was too angry to care. "I just told you my other life's story, yet you have no idea what I have suffered and sacrificed! Do you know what it's like to live the same fifteen years as Kingsguard knowing that your rightful king is in Winterfell? Can you even imagine the toll of knowing that the Long Night is looming and it will destroy us all within the next winter? Do you understand the torture of knowing the fate awaiting every single person you love?"

Brienne's face was twisted into a grimace. "You fucked your own sister and begat children from her. What am I supposed to think of that?"

"Think what you will! She's dead and good riddance to her!" He'd had enough and turned away, marching back to Pod. He knew he had been an irredeemable cad, but that was a lifetime ago, yet it still dogged him. He'd thought that they'd had enough time together that she would understand him and where her place was in his life. But he had been wrong.

He knew he should apologize to her. That she did not deserve his anger, though he was mostly angry at himself. He wasn't as angry with Brienne so much as disappointed. He hadn't expected her to fall into his arms, but he had expected some understanding. Perhaps a little repulsion, but he felt the record of this life spoke for itself. He was beyond the sins from his last life, but it was all she'd been able to focus on.

"Dinner, m'lord?" Podrick held out a bowl of stew for him.

He took it, but could only manage a nod of gratitude for fear he'd give the poor boy the other side of his tongue when he didn't deserve it.

"Thank you, Pod. I apologize for not being back in time to cook as I promised," Brienne said. Jaime did his best to ignore her, but it couldn't escape his attention that her voice was a wobbly yellow.

"Not at all, m'lady," Podrick replied, his voice also starting to wobble, though it remained blue. He was not a fool and Jaime was sure the new tension between them hadn't escaped his notice.

They ate in silence. Jaime was silently fuming, which turned his stomach into knots. Eating was the last thing he felt like doing, but he choked it down to keep from wasting it.

Once the meal was eaten and dinner was squared away, Jaime said, "Why don't you go to bed, Pod? I'll take first watch."

"I'll take the second watch," Brienne said.

"Wake me for the third watch, m'lady," Pod replied.

Once they were settled, Jaime let out a breath and enjoyed the quiet of the night next to the crackling fire. The last time he had done a watch in this fashion had been in the time before. He remembered how his ability to see sounds was a blessing. There was no sound that escaped his notice. His anger, like a fire, had died to smoldering embers, but a mere breath could have it roaring again. He doubted it would fade anytime soon and so he stewed in his thoughts.