Author's Notes: Good day, my lovely readers! I hope you've had a wonderful two weeks. I am still in awe at the support that you continue to bestow upon me. Thank you so much!
Catzrko0l continues to be my rockstar beta! You're amazing and I want to thank you for all of your help to make this fic the best it can be!
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Chapter 115
Brienne XI
The news came down the line that they would be arriving at Riverrun by midday. She had glanced at Jaime and she thought she saw his jaw tighten. His eyes had been like flints. He still didn't acknowledge her.
Over the week, Brienne had found her anger slowly ebbing away each day and much to her annoyance, she was beginning to miss Jaime's company. During the first several weeks of the journey, he'd often attempted a running commentary. While it could be stilted and awkward due to the long hours, it had been welcome. Never one to find conversation necessary, Brienne was stunned by how tiresome the sound of silence had become. Or rather, the endless sound of hoofbeats with little else but the patter of rain and the gust of wind to break it up.
However, she was not so desperate that she was willing to reach out to him. She was still waiting for an apology for lying to her about his whole life. She would try to read the expressions on his face to gauge where he was at, but he was always glaring and refrained from speaking. As far as she knew, his anger still burned as fiercely as the night of their fight.
What should it matter to me? I cannot love him, Brienne thought, but the burn she felt in her cheeks spoke otherwise. She wanted a return to what they had, but she didn't understand how to get there without first bowing. It seemed that they were at a stalemate and whoever broke first, to the victor would go the spoils. But what would I win? she mused. The satisfaction that she had outlasted Jaime in how stubborn she could be? She was still stuck—or so she thought—in a bad marriage. So too was Jaime. She would not cower to him and he could not expect that. Isn't that what he had found so endearing about her?
The more she thought about it, the more it seemed futile. What was done was done. They were already married. Even if it could be annulled, it would not end in her favor. Four times betrothed, once married, now despoiled. She dug her fingernails into her hand enough to leave impressions. How she wished at times that she could have been born a man, free of such a tiresome burden as only being able to honor her house with heirs. What her father would think of them now….
Brienne was brought out of her thoughts by Jaime summoning Ser Addam Marbrand to the front.
"Find a place for the men to sleep. I imagine we'll be here a few days," Jaime grumbled.
"Will you be staying in the castle?" Ser Addam asked, his eyebrows high up his forehead.
Brienne couldn't see Jaime's face, but there was a moment of hesitation and then he growled, "That remains to be seen." Then he booted his horse and rode off down the path toward Riverrun without her.
She glanced at Ser Addam who only shrugged in return.
"Come, my lady," Podrick said, nodding his head after Jaime.
She hesitated but then decided to follow.
Podrick was eager and young, but hardly a fool. He'd been quiet and morose since she and Jaime had started fighting. His expression was often pinched like he was walking around on eggshells. They had never snapped at him, though Jaime did occasionally glare at Pod for disturbing the peace.
They stayed several feet behind Jaime. From what she could tell, he was focused solely on Riverrun and blind to all else. She turned to Pod. "What makes you think he wants me there?"
"You're his lady-wife," the boy replied.
"It seems doubtful he wants me to remain as such," she murmured.
"But he does, my lady! He never spoke of it to me, but I saw how he fought for you," Pod replied.
"Do you know of our fight?"
"No, my lady, just that you had one."
"Then how could you know that he still wishes to be married?" she asked.
"Because you're still here, my lady," Pod replied.
That made her pause. Did Pod know about Jaime's relationship with his sister? The king had made certain she'd been sent away, far away. But Jaime was the Lord of Casterly Rock, the wealthiest man of Westeros. It would be nothing to him to send her away unless he didn't intend to send her away.
It could be torture, she mused, but for whom? Him or her? While she was upset, the pain had dribbled away. Her curiosity now piqued, she nudged the horse to move a little faster.
There were thousands of men milling about, making fires, setting up tents, and calling to one another. They all stopped to watch in silence as Jaime rode past. She had a feeling they would part like a school of fish for a shark if there wasn't already a ready-made path. Jaime only stopped when he entered the courtyard of Riverrun. Brienne was momentarily distracted by the river that she now saw encircled the whole of the castle. She had spent all of her time on Tarth falling asleep to the sound of the waves on the beach and wondered if she could repeat the experience here.
Jaime paid her little mind. He found what he was looking for and dismounted. He walked straight past his horse without tying it and a stableboy scrambled to catch the reins. Brienne and Pod also dismounted and followed.
Lord Stark was with whom Brienne presumed was his wife, Lady Catelyn, given his arm wrapped around her. He pulled away and was beaming down at a small boy who was tugging at his trousers. Robb Stark was standing nearby with his chest puffed out and his head up as he held Lady Margaery Stark's arm, showing her off to his mother like a young boy who caught his first frog. Lady Margaery was all smiles and she had a hand artfully placed on her now obviously protruding stomach. By every measure, it was a perfect reunion.
Brienne followed but then held her arm out to stop Pod as Jaime stormed up. She'd thought for a moment about trying to divert his attention, but his son had been a sticking point. Lady Catelyn was supposed to be his caretaker. She also doubted that she would be able to stop him; his will carried the force of a hurricane.
"Lady Catelyn Stark," Jaime began with cold anger.
Everyone's smiles faltered. Margaery was the only one who kept it, but even Brienne could see the falseness. She raised her eyebrows and said, "Lord Lannister, so pleased you could join u—"
"Lord Lannister," Lady Catelyn drew herself up, but Brienne saw a tremble in her lips and she appeared decidedly pale.
"I charged you with the task of being the caretaker of my son. You, and you alone, were to oversee his care," Jaime said. All activity had ceased in the courtyard to watch, which meant even the deadly quiet of his voice carried.
Lady Catelyn opened her mouth a few times to speak but seemed to think better of it. She sidled closer to Lord Stark and tried to keep her eyes on Jaime, but she frequently cast them to the ground.
"Well? Where is he?" Jaime demanded.
"Lord Lannister, I would, um, hope you'd realize that I, I had no way of knowing Lord Bolton was going to take Winterfell," Lady Catelyn stammered, her eyes were now watery and her voice was thick with grief.
"I DON'T CARE," Jaime roared. "YOU WERE SUPPOSED TO OVERSEE HIS CARE! IF THAT MEANT TAKING HIM WITH YOU, THAT IS WHAT YOU SHOULD HAVE DONE!"
"Lord Lannister, please," Lord Stark pleaded, torn between being aghast and ashamed.
She gaped. "You can hardly expect me to bring him with me to my own family's holdings."
"Why not?! It's not like he's yours! What dishonor would it bring to you? Do you consider the mere presence of a bastard a stain?!" Jaime growled.
Catelyn gave the barest shake of her head and said, "What does it matter? He's not here. That monster has him. My son. The other children. Do you not care about them?"
"Don't you dare turn that back on me! They may be children, but they can look after themselves. My son is an infant and you left him to fend for himself!"
"He is hardly alo—" Catelyn interjected.
"He was supposed to be with you! Someone with true authority, not just a fucking wetnurse," Jaime seethed.
"Lord Lannister, really!" Ser Edmure arrived and tried to get between Jaime and his sister, but he stutter-stepped at the venom in Jaime's eyes. He still managed to say, "It is highly improper for you to be yelling at my sister."
"What's improper is your sister abandoning her duty," Jaime yelled, turning his full ire onto Ser Edmure.
Brienne started to creep forward. She didn't like the way sweat was beginning to bead on Jaime's forehead and she was concerned about the purple tinge on his face from his anger.
"Even such as it is, what's done is done. Your … son is not here," Edmure said.
"Because of her! She left him to die!"
"That's hardly fair," Catelyn exclaimed. "I had no way of knowing the danger he might be in!"
"That's enough, Lord Lannister," Edmure said with finality, plucking up the courage to place himself between Jaime and his sister.
Brienne stepped up and grabbed Jaime by the arm to lead him away. "C'mon. No sense staying here." She was surprised when he didn't swat her away, but he stubbornly held his ground.
"Let it be known here that your wife, Lord Stark, has shit for honor," Jaime growled. With that, he turned away and allowed Brienne to lead him toward the castle.
Once out of the courtyard, Brienne could more easily hear his labored breathing. She looked at his face. Despite the anger that still twisted his features, his eyes appeared glazed and she could feel him weakening.
"Where to?" she said, unsure of whether she was asking Jaime or Pod.
"The godswood," Jaime whispered.
She allowed Pod to lead the way. When he asked, the servants pointed him in the right direction. Much like the godswood in the Red Keep, it was in the very center of the castle with the walls encircling it. By this point, Jaime was leaning heavily on her to keep his feet, so she bodily dragged him toward the weirwood. This weirwood was perched next to a pond, so Brienne deposited him just under the tree right near the edge. By this point, all of the color had drained from Jaime's face and it was a sickly gray. His eyes, so clear earlier, were unfocused.
Brienne took a handkerchief from her pocket, dipped it into the pond water, and then draped it across his forehead. It was quiet save for the songs of the birds and a babbling brook that spilled into the pond nearby.
Pod, at once realized he was intruding on a private moment, said, "I'll guard the entrance to the godswood."
"Turn everyone away," Brienne ordered. Neither of them would have any stomach for speaking further for the rest of the day.
The silence fell again. Brienne dipped her fingers in the pond and enjoyed the stir it caused in the little fish who came back to nibble the tips thinking they were food. She flicked her fingers. The movement startled them and they darted away, but just as quickly returned.
"I'm sorry."
Brienne stiffened. The sound had been so soft she could have easily mistaken it for the wind. "Did you say something?"
There was quiet. Brienne glanced back at him to see if he was seizing, but she found one eye open peeking at her. His voice was devoid of either its characteristic smirk or his more recent rage.
"I'm sorry," he whispered again.
Brienne found her tongue stuck. She was at once torn between telling him it wasn't needed and goading him to speak it clearly. An anger she didn't know she had until he had spilled his secrets to her at Harrenhal rose up in her belly, but it wasn't anywhere close to the raging storm it had been when the hurt was still fresh. She turned away to keep from saying anything she might regret.
"I waited so long for this. Sixteen years, I waited for you," Jaime continued. "I was so afraid to lose you. I wondered if I should even tell you at all. I very nearly didn't. But I wanted you to understand. Selfish," Jaime said.
The words faded away and Brienne warred with herself. Finally, she said, "I wish you had told me sooner."
"What's done is done," Jaime replied, a shadow of his old mocking back in his voice. "Would it have made a difference?"
Yes, Brienne wanted to say, but lies never did roll well off her tongue. She'd think him as mad as King Aerys. Every time they sparred, she would be reminded of his past life. A little part of her yearned to know if she was anything like the Brienne he remembered, but another part of her was afraid to ask. Whether she was afraid she wouldn't live up to the expectation or if she simply didn't want to encourage such lunacy.
"Does Pod know?" Brienne asked.
"No, he doesn't."
She felt her heart skip a beat at the prospect.
"Who does?"
"King Aemon, my brother, Lord Stark, and Ser Barristan. Possibly Queen Daenerys by now too," Jaime mumbled.
Brienne stared at him dumbfounded, but Jaime had long since closed his eyes.
So many sensible men and none of them intervened? she wondered. She thought back to her encounters with King Aemon. She had never actually spoken with him personally, but she had seen a wide range of his moods at court. Though he had been furious over the attempted coup, that fury had never hinted at madness or insanity. When affairs at court were of a far less serious manner, he was often in good humor and treated his people with a kindness that Jaime certainly hadn't bothered with when he oversaw court as Hand of the King. Overall, King Aemon was genial, but he could be stern and leverage his power when the time called for it.
She knew little of how King Robert Baratheon governed, but rumors at court suggested he was a whoremonger who made his Hand govern in his stead while he reaped the rewards. Before Renly had been banished to the Wall, he'd confided in Brienne that while things had appeared peaceful on the surface, underneath the facade, things in the Red Keep had been turbulent. It would have been only a matter of time before war broke out, regardless of King Aemon making his claim.
That aside, it was difficult to call King Aemon's usurping of Robert's throne a war. There hadn't been a single battle. King Aemon and Jaime had sprung their trap and immediately captured Robert Baratheon. They'd swept the rest of the Seven Kingdoms by bargaining with their chips. It was difficult to argue that King Aemon's ascendence hadn't been anything other than swift and efficient.
Almost like they knew what to expect, Brienne thought, as the events leading up Renly's kidnapping came into sharp relief with her new knowledge. Hadn't Renly done something similar in Jaime's time before? Only a shadow birthed by a priestess had found its way into his tent and assassinated him. Jaime had learned the existence of the tunnels under the Red Keep and used them to pull the rug out from under Renly. At least he'd been delivered straight to the king alive.
Maybe … maybe that's what stopped Ser Barristan the Bold from naysaying his king. Because everything that unfolded was all too real to say otherwise, Brienne mused.
Her shoulders sagged and she leaned against Jaime. "I believe you," she whispered.
The silence stretched out and Brienne was beginning to wonder if he'd heard her at all. But then he said, "Thank you."
They sat in silence for some time. Brienne felt more at peace than she had been the whole week, but the news of the other life Jaime had lived still left her feeling off-kilter. She didn't think she'd ever stop wondering if he loved the old Brienne more than he loved her.
She wasn't sure how long they lay with each other propped up against the weirwood tree, but Brienne awoke from a doze when she felt Jaime shift.
"I'm still apt to have a seizure, but I'd rather do it elsewhere than here," Jaime grumbled, using the weirwood to pull himself up to his feet.
Brienne jumped up and offered her arm once more. With a sigh, Jaime took it, but he leaned less of his weight on her and walked slowly and purposefully forward. At the entrance back into the castle, Pod was there with a very impatient servant, who was fiddling with her hands. She started and gasped when she noticed them and curtsied. "M'lord and lady, Ser Edmure asked me to show you your rooms and direct you to dinner."
Brienne looked to Jaime. His lip curled in disgust; she nudged him and his expression settled. "We'll take dinner in our room," Jaime insisted.
The girl wet her lips nervously and said, "Vuh-very well, m'lord. Follow me." She led them through a maze of corridors and up two flights of stairs where they entered a large room with a bed and copper tub bathed in sunlight on the far side.
Jaime was tentative as he sat down on the side of the bed and gave her an annoyed look. She was about to ask him what the issue was when he said, "Would you pull out the chamber pot? It needs to be close at hand."
She fished it out from under the bed and handed it to him. He laid back on the bed still cradling it in his arms.
"I'm going to call for a bath. It may be some time yet before we're afforded one again," Brienne said.
Jaime snorted, keeping his eyes closed. "We'll be here for a few days at least to let the soldiers rest. If memory serves, old Hoster Tully is languishing on his death bed and is apt to expire any day now. They'll want to stay for that. Just as well. Few things would please me more than making you moan loud enough for Lady Catelyn to hear."
Brienne's face flushed to her roots once more, much to Jaime's amusement.
