Author's Notes: Good day, everyone! I hope you're having a fine weekend. Another chapter for all of you to enjoy! Thank you all so much for your continued support of this project! There are still plenty more exciting moments to come!
Thank you, Catzrko0l, for being a beta to this story. You've been incredible! I am endlessly grateful for the work you put into this!
For those on this story - as I understand it, has begun purging NSFW content. Should this story end up purged, I will NOT repost it here. It will be available only on AO3. Should my account remain up, I do intend to post more stories here in the future, but don't expect them to have NSFW content.
Chapter 133
Brienne XII
At no point had she ever felt murderous, but she had just about reached the end of her tether with her father. She felt like a child, having to sneak out in the dead of night to get some practice swings in with the sword. Unlike when she was a real child, she had a feeling her father was not about to budge and allow her to train.
"You're with child. It could be dangerous for the babe," he'd cautioned her.
Throwing myself from the tower would be even worse for the babe, she wanted to retort, but instead contained her frustration and stormed away. She did not enjoy being pregnant. She felt ravenously hungry and absolutely exhausted all at once, yet she struggled to get a good night's sleep. There were meals where she couldn't eat enough and other times where she thought the smell alone would bring up everything else she'd already eaten that day. Her body, otherwise fit and healthy, felt aged. She ached in odd places and her appendages swelled at times. Her moods left her feeling at odds. She had never been weepy, but now on the rare occasion she would be overcome with grief and at the point of tears over tiny things. Though lately her grief was for her previous training.
All of this would be bearable if her damnable father could do her the great pleasure of not treating her like glass. Even if training with a man were out of the question, she thought she should at least be allowed to vent her spleen against the practice dummies. However, the dummies had been disassembled entirely, though that did not prevent her from destroying hay bales at least. She could also still go through her forms without a single target. It was in the solitary hours of the night that she felt most like herself.
Most of her days were spent tending to the children. Though her father was wise enough not to say a cross word, he bristled at Cassian's presence, which was another source of her ire. The boy is not responsible for his origin, she had said to her father. He insisted that he understood, but she thought she saw a disgruntled tilt to his face whenever he saw him. She did her best to ignore it.
Myrcella and Julianna were having difficulty adjusting, but she saw more smiles from them on Tarth than in Winterfell. They enjoyed joining her for walks on the beach, where they could run through the water or paddle their feet, a luxury they couldn't even afford in King's Landing. From what Brienne knew of Blackwater Bay, it wasn't water worth swimming in.
While Brienne had little in the way of experience with children, she thought Cassian a tad off. He was a quiet and solemn toddler. He did enjoy her company and raised his arms when he wanted to be lifted, but he never said a word. Myrcella had told her that Lord Bolton had him hit whenever he cried, so he learned never to make a sound. It made her wish that she could drag Lord Bolton from his grave and kill him again.
With each passing week, Brienne thought she saw more and more of Jaime in Cassian's features. He had the same wide green eyes and the same mouth. While Jaime's hair had a golden luster to it, Cassian's was a bright yellow, nearly white. Her father's hair had darkened a bit with age and she had the feeling Cassian's would do the same.
Although it was difficult for them to get new letters from Jaime, Brienne would reread the ones he'd already written aloud to the little boy. She held him on her lap and as she read, he would burrow into her side and eventually fall asleep.
Even though Julianna and Myrcella were similarly bastards, her father did a better job of taking them in stride when he knew they were not Jaime's. She found Julianna similarly needy and would often tell her stories of her childhood.
Myrcella was hardly a child anymore, but she had grown into a somber young woman. She had a tendency to stare far off into the distance; it was at these times that Brienne often wondered what she was thinking. One thing she hadn't expected was for Myrcella to beg her to train her. This had been a godsend for Brienne's sanity because, though her father kept Brienne from training, he allowed her to train Myrcella. As the girl was so new, she was not doing any actual fighting and Brienne would simply guide her through the steps of some of the forms and stop her to make adjustments to her stance and grip.
Good form must run in the Lannister blood, Brienne thought with some satisfaction when, after merely two weeks, Myrcella was going through her steps smoothly. Her form was hardly flawless and there were hiccups that Brienne would make corrections to, but she was picking it up like a fish in water. Jaime would be proud.
It was about the only kind thought she had for her lord husband. She still bristled that he had sent her away instead of allowing her to accompany him. Her annoyance at him had only deepened when she received a short letter from Winterfell that Jaime was already on his way back. He was gone barely two months, Brienne seethed. Plenty of time for us to return without any danger to the baby.
However, while tending to the children, she would often reflect back to how miserable they were in Winterfell, no doubt a remnant of their time under the cold hand of Roose Bolton. All of them still woke in the night screaming from nightmares. Brienne had been forced to cut short more than one midnight training session when she heard their telltale cries that were loud enough to wake the castle. Just as in Winterfell, she often woke up with Julianna sharing a bed with her.
She wished she could do more for the children, but when she brought up their troubles to Maester Faust, he had only shrugged. "These children have suffered, but they're safe now. Just keep doing as you are. All children have nightmares, after all, whether they lived them or not," he'd said with a pleasant shrug.
Brienne had frowned over him, but instead of arguing with him, she simply wrote him off as useless.
Much to her immense relief, Pod and Lord and Lady Alexandratos were anything but useless. While her father had only had passing familiarity with the new House Alexandratos in King's Landing, Cyrus quickly won him over with his soothing and jaunty melodies that filled the castle corridors during the day. When Brienne became overwhelmed, Lady Delphine would often swoop in to take one or more of the children. Her twin sons had taken an affinity to Cassian and they would often play together. It was about the only time she ever saw Cassian laugh or smile, clapping his hands in delight.
At least once a week, Lady Delphine and Brienne would take the children to the beaches on Tarth to play. Lucille and her brothers taught the other children how to make sand castles, which kept them entertained for hours as they built towers, moats, and channels.
After so long in a place where the cold seeped into the walls, leaving a damp chill in every room, it was refreshing to return to a part of the world that was as yet untouched by winter. No matter how much her father infuriated her, it was only once Brienne had returned to Tarth that she realized how much she'd missed it. The moment she'd stepped off the boat, she breathed in the salty air and felt a tension she didn't know she'd had unwind in her shoulders.
She'd felt similarly once they'd finally set foot outside of King's Landing. The hustle and bustle of a large castle felt a bit much to her. But you are a lady of one, she thought wryly. Now that she was married, she had little recourse and could only hope that she would become accustomed to such a large household. The children seemed to like her at least, which was a small consolation.
When she woke up for the day, it was after a particularly frightful night for the children. Julianna and Cassian had both gotten her up at separate times and were now nestled against her in bed, sleeping soundly. She hated to stir in case it woke them from a desperately-needed sleep, but she quickly grew restless if she was inactive for too long.
It had been over four months since she'd fallen pregnant and at best she noticed a thickening in her middle, but otherwise she looked as she always had. There were times where she felt a fluttering in her stomach, but it wasn't until she was speaking with Delphine that she learned it was the baby itself moving. Her feelings towards her pregnancy frequently shifted from being agitated by it and the various ills that it caused her to wonderment about the new life growing inside of her. There was still some time yet before the baby would arrive, but Maester Faust and Delphine had both mentioned that she was likely past the point she'd lose the baby, so it was almost a certainty that it would arrive hale and healthy.
She swept into the hall for her breakfast, customarily ignoring her father so as not to get her temper up, but he stopped her.
"Brienne, our lookout spotted a ship called the Sea Morrow approaching from the North."
She froze. The last letter they had received from Jaime had been a missive about boarding a ship of the exact same name.
"When is it expected to dock?" Brienne asked.
"By noon, I should think," her father said. For once, he seemed conscious about not antagonizing her.
"I will be taking my horse to greet him. Make sure there's a good spread for lunch. I imagine he'll be hungry after weeks of rations," she said. She felt a welling up of love and frustration at the thought of seeing Jaime again, though she was split about whether she would slap him first or kiss him. Slapping sounded the most appealing by far.
The children were excited to hear that their uncle or father was set to arrive in a matter of hours.
"Will we be staying here for much longer?" Myrcella asked. Though she was thrilled, she demonstrated the proper composure of a lady by remaining calm and collected.
"I know Jaime wanted to be back at Casterly Rock in time for the birth," Brienne replied. "That's still some months out, but it will take months yet to get back as well."
As practiced as Myrcella was, Brienne still noticed her face fell. "Oh, a pity. I love your home."
"Have you ever been to Casterly Rock?"
Myrcella shook her head. "The … king didn't care much for traveling," she said.
"Well, Casterly Rock is supposed to be the grandest castle of them all. I'm sure you'll find fun things to do there as well," Brienne assured her.
"Yes, but … Tarth is just so quiet. So peaceful. It's nice."
"That we can agree on," Brienne said. "You shouldn't have to fret about your training, if you are. Jaime assured me that I'll be able to train and if I can train, so can you."
Myrcella laughed lightly. "Oh good! I enjoy our lessons."
"As do I," Brienne replied.
Around noon, Brienne set off on her horse to the harbor with only Podrick in tow. Brienne had put her foot down about the usual pomp and circumstances for welcoming a lord of Jaime's stature. For once, her father had yielded to her judgment, so he poured all of his efforts into directing the cooks.
Jaime was difficult to miss. Everyone in Tarth stared at the giant dire wolf loping next to his horse. She kept a close rein on her own horse as it stirred upon seeing the wolf. Jaime sighted her immediately and he smiled. In the time since they last saw each other, his beard had grown quite bushy and had darkened a bit. Overall, though, his appearance seemed quite ragged. His clothes were rumpled and bedraggled and was looking thin with his hair mussed.
"How was beyond the Wall?" Brienne asked coolly.
"Frosty," Jaime replied, his smile morphing into a smirk. "But not as frosty as you."
"I should slap you," she growled.
He mock gasped. "Whatever for, my lady?"
"Your fears were for naught. I would have been no worse for wear beyond the Wall! We would've made it back in plenty of time for the baby to be born outside of the North," she snapped.
Jaime remained unperturbed by her ire. "I've missed you too. Truly. But I don't regret my decision to send you here. It took over two weeks to find the wildlings. A White Walker nearly killed me, then a wildling attempted to make dogmeat of me. I assure you, he was handled." He brought his right hand up which was now decorated with fresh scars.
Brienne became even more terse. "You were attacked by the Others?"
"Yes," Jaime said and he nudged his horse to begin trotting towards Evenfall Hall. She and Pod quickly fell in next to him. "I'm ashamed to say it, but that may have well been the end of us if the wildings hadn't shown up."
She felt a chill at his words now that he'd dropped his usual mocking. "I would've made the difference," she grumbled.
"I don't doubt you could have, but only with a Valyrian steel sword in your hands, not a pitiful dragonglass dagger. Though I attempted to wheedle Robb, I couldn't get him to agree to split Ice in two."
Something between a guffaw and snort came out. "You tried to convince Robb Stark to split his ancestral sword in two?"
"I did," Jaime said.
Brienne drew her mouth into a furious line. Jaime had put special emphasis on the fact that his father had split Ice in two and he had rewarded her with one of the swords: Oathkeeper. Although it pained her that she'd never have the pleasure of wielding such a sword, she would never dare attempt to convince the Starks through such underhanded means.
"You're a cad," she simply said, unable to speak further with Pod and the other Lannister soldiers in company.
"Yes, but you knew that before we married," he replied.
She made a disgusted noise, but decided to move on. "How long do you wish us to remain on Tarth?"
"Not long," he said, glancing at her midsection. "I'd prefer to have you settled in Casterly Rock with plenty of time to spare. You and the babe are still well, I presume?"
"As well as can be expected," Brienne growled.
Jaime's eyebrows lifted and she could see his mouth daring to twitch in amusement.
"This will be our last child," she demanded.
"Don't need an heir for Tarth after all?"
"My father won't let me train!"
He clucked his tongue and shook his head. "I'm surprised you're not eager to leave at first light on the morrow."
"I would, but the children like it on Tarth," she grumbled.
"Hardly surprising when compared to the dreary chill and gloom of the North." Jaime turned his face toward the sun like a cat looking to sunbathe. "Perhaps they should stay then?"
Brienne shifted in her saddle. "My father tolerates them, but he has no love for them. He had words with me regarding Cassian and I gave him words in equal measure."
"Thank you," Jaime whispered. "I promise, he will not inherit in front of our children."
"Are you so bold to believe I'm having twins? This is the last of it!"
"As you say, my lady," Jaime replied, irritating her even more with his amusement.
True to Jaime's word, he chartered a ship in a week's time to take them back to King's Landing where they would then travel along the Gold Road to Casterly Rock. Brienne was repulsed at the thought of returning even momentarily to a place that reeked of shit, but Jaime insisted that he return Ghost to the king. The children were just as glum at the prospect, which made Jaime promise that they wouldn't even spend so much as the night within the city.
Now back in the presence of Jaime, her father treated him like a king. Although Jaime did not say a word toward him regarding his thoughts on Cassian, Brienne detected a certain iciness to Jaime's demeanor and words spoken with her father. Judging by the strain in her father's eyes, she was certain he detected it too.
It took little time for Jaime to fall into the routine they had created. Though she didn't mind helping the children, it was a welcome reprieve when at the first cry, he'd immediately stir to tend to them. He was intent on being there for Cassian, specifically. Brienne walked in on him trying to teach Cassian to speak. Cassian had improved to grunts, but he was still hesitant to form full words. However, the boy did seem to understand that he was safe with them and he would reach out frequently for a loving hand. While Brienne was talking Myrcella through her forms and adjusting her positioning, Brienne saw Jaime leaning up against the wall of the training yard with his arms crossed and a self-satisfied smirk on his face.
"Perhaps you'd care to guide your niece through a fight with an opponent instead of standing there uselessly," Brienne snapped.
"I assumed you wouldn't want me interfering," he said. "Besides, I thought this was the only thing your father was even allowing you to do." Still, he grabbed a lathe and took his position opposite Myrcella. "Attack me and let's see what you've learned."
Unlike many knights he'd taunted, Myrcella didn't hesitate in aggressively going through her forms, though it was clear she wasn't quite sure how to actually attack. It was a common mistake he saw in new learners. Still, he was pleased with her footwork and didn't hesitate to praise it in the midst of their fight. After a few minutes though, he gently swatted the lathe out of her hand, careful not to injure her. She didn't hesitate to pick it right back up and fall into an aggressive stance.
Each day at dusk, Jaime would take Brienne for a solo ride on their horses so that Ghost could stretch his legs. Although the direwolf panted, he seemed to enjoy running along the beach. He often took the lead and stayed just ahead of them. He would frequently dart into the shallows and then stop to sniff at something in the low tide: a crab, a dead jellyfish, or some washed up seaweed.
It was at these times that Brienne couldn't keep herself from staring lovingly at Jaime. Though he often teased her, he never mocked her concerns and he was openly grateful for everything she had done for the children, even though it was hardly her preferred calling. There were times on the ride where Jaime would dismount, so that they could sit on the beach together and simply stare at the waves, without anyone there to disturb them. She entwined her fingers with his and unabashedly put her head on his shoulder.
"Tarth is far better than the North could ever hope to be," Jaime whispered to her.
Brienne snorted. "I suppose I should be thankful I'm not from the North then."
"I would drag my heels before conceding a visit," Jaime said.
"Yet, you'll have to go back someday," she said, the amusement leaving her voice.
"You should be by my side, at least. That will make it bearable."
She was quiet for a moment and said, "I will hold you to that."
"My lady, it is my sincerest wish that you'll be able to handily defeat me. Then I won't be able to stop you."
"That's ideal," Brienne replied.
It was a largely sad affair when they loaded up on a ship once more to take them to King's Landing. She stared up at Evenstar Hall both mournfully and pointedly. Whether her father meant well or not, she wasn't ready to forgive him for being so overbearing with regards to her training, so she did her best to not meet his eyes. Mrycella, ever the proper lady, thanked her father for hosting them.
Ghost looked far too large for a ship and Jaime had to pay to make sure there was enough feed for the horses and the wolf. There was a minor disagreement with the captain who initially insisted that Ghost had to stay in a pen like the horses, but Jaime had flatly told him no. He did have to keep the wolf on a tight lead, but otherwise Ghost was quartered with them.
The sailing to King's Landing was uneventful and dull. Though the ship was large, it was not a galleon, which made training even with lathes difficult. Brienne and Jaime both occupied their time by tending to the children, seeing to their horses, and play-fighting with Ghost by playing tug-of-war using a rope. He was large enough that they had to struggle to stay on their feet. Cyrus and his family continued to regale them with music from his violina or cello.
When they docked into King's Landing, Jaime's face reflected her own feelings as it was permanently contorted in a grimace of dissatisfaction. Brienne already felt ill at the nauseating smell of shit that permeated the very stones of the place.
"I intend on staying only long enough to see to it that Ghost is delivered back to the king. Then we will be on our way again."
She, Cyrus, and Delphine didn't even leave their horses and the children were to remain sitting in the carriages. However, it wasn't long before Jaime returned with a harried look and said, "Forgive me, but there's been trouble. With a little luck, we'll only be here for a single night. See to it that everyone is situated," Jaime said and then he mounted his horse. With a hand signal, he gestured for Cyrus and Delphine to follow, along with half a dozen Lannister soldiers broke off and followed him out of the gate and back into the city.
Brienne sighed that he hadn't said any more, but dutifully began sorting everything out for rooms in the Red Keep. A servant was sent by Tyrion to guide them to open rooms in the Tower of the Hand since they were family and honored allies.
Jaime's face was a thunderstorm when he returned.
"Are you able to say what the issue is or is this another of the king's secrets?" Brienne grumbled.
He made a noise of disgust. "If you were one for gossip, you would know by now."
"There's no truth in gossip."
"There can be," Jaime said. "It's not a secret. Varys tried to kill David and fled. He's alive but still weak. The Shepherds have the entire brothel locked down. I was only allowed in since I'm their benefactor. They're weeding their ranks of traitor mouths."
"Why would Varys try to kill him?" Brienne asked.
Jaime's expression morphed into one of anxiety as he fiddled with the buttons on his doublet. "I suppose there's no spider to hear our words now; the king and I use David to gather information outside of Varys for our own ends," Jaime replied. "Now what the king may have asked of him, I don't know. Though I consider Aemon my friend, I know he has his own ends which he may want to keep close to his chest. I don't envy him having to face the wrath of Queen Daenerys over this though."
Brienne raised her eyebrows at his words. Does Daenerys know about the time before? She wanted to ask, but even she knew Jaime would not want her to dare breathe a word of it. It was simply too fantastical and too dangerous.
"There is nothing more I can do here. We leave in the morning," Jaime said.
"That's a relief."
"Indeed," Jaime said, smirking. "How about a farewell fling before the road?"
"Julianna nearly saw us naked!"
"But she didn't. Besides, I've asked Delphine to be a dear and take care of the children for the night."
Brienne scoffed but couldn't resist leaning in for a kiss.
True to Jaime's word, they left bright and early the next day. Though they all breathed a sigh of relief as soon as the smell of shit had fallen away, none seemed more relieved than Jaime.
"Though I grew accustomed to the cadences of the Red Keep, it truly is a blessing to be away from all of that," he said.
"You looked right at home to me," Brienne teased.
"If I did, it's from spending my entire adult life there and for no other reason," Jaime growled. "I can expect little different in Casterly Rock, but I need not play host to a multitude of lords and ladies every day."
The Alexandratos' rode behind them and they heard Cyrus gasp in mock surprise, "You wound me, my lord. Will my family not be welcome?"
Jaime scoffed. "You'll have your own castle to contend with in Fort Fort."
"Fort Forte, and if you'll recall, you vetoed that name," Cyrus replied haughtily. Delphine and Brienne could hardly contain their giggles.
The conversation did turn towards Clegane Keep. Neither Cyrus nor Lady Delphine had been idle with regards to their new home. Though Brienne could only imagine what a trial it was to manage it from afar, they had gotten busy making it ready for the family. Ser Gregor Clegane was a lord only in title more than practice. It had fallen into disrepair and the servants left in his wake fought unceasingly amongst themselves. With David's help, they pulled in a new maester who was tasked with sorting through what remained of the household staff. Jaime had also sent over a small company of Lannister soldiers to keep the servants from stealing what was left or otherwise inflicting injury. Brienne did not envy the monumental task that Cyrus and Delphine had ahead of them, although they sounded more than up to the task.
They were halfway through their journey when Jaime drew her attention with a drawling comment, "Well, look who it is."
She turned to look down the road and found the Targaryen banner flying at the front. Jaime turned his horse to step off the road and make way for the king. They could see Aemon at the front and though he was staring straight ahead, he appeared lost in his thoughts. Aemon was nearly about to pass when Jaime shouted, "Ah, I see we now rank below the king's attention."
This started Aemon and he glanced around, "Jaime!" He nudged his horse out of the line to stand beside him. The whole of the kingsguard naturally followed and circled them like hunting wolves, though they kept a respectful distance. "Keep going. We won't be long," Aemon shouted to the head of the column. Then he turned to Jaime and smirked. "My apologies. I've had a great deal on my mind of late."
"Trouble with the Ironborn?" Jaime asked.
"To some extent. They didn't want to surrender."
"Fools that they are."
Aemon nodded, but grimaced and then glanced up toward the sky nervously. "Drogon made them pay."
Jaime shuddered. "A pity it had to come to that."
"It shouldn't have. Drogon acted of his own accord; I never gave the order."
This time Jaime shifted uneasily in his seat and also looked toward the sky. "Is he no longer under your power?"
"I would say he selectively listens. I'm unsure whether he will listen to Daenerys either. I do think he's more tightly bonded to her. From what I've learned in the history books about the Targaryens who did have dragons, they tend towards one person and one person only," Aemon said. "We had hoped since she wasn't riding him and Daenerys showed much trust in me, he might be inclined, but that's not the case."
Brienne felt her own fear prickle her skin with regards to the dragons. They were fascinating creatures, but she remembered that Drogon had been particularly intimidating. She didn't want to end up on the wrong end of him.
"Do you think you can regain control?" Jaime asked.
"Control might be asking for too much. Can I regain his trust? Is he so bonded with Daenerys that he'll listen? That is my wish," Aemon said, pinching the bridge of his nose in consternation.
"Well, I fear you have trouble awaiting you at home," Jaime said. He opened his jacket and pulled a letter from an inner pocket and handed it to him.
Aemon groaned. "What now?"
"That letter will explain most. Varys poisoned David and fled," Jaime said.
Even Brienne noticed the shift in the king's eyes. Jaime smirked. "You were using David to unearth something that he didn't like, weren't you?"
"We were hoping to keep it secret enough that Varys wouldn't uncover it until it was too late," Aemon replied, stubbornly refusing to elaborate about it.
"Well, just so you're forewarned, the queen is not pleased with the secrets you seem to have kept from her."
Aemon noticed the peculiar edge to Jaime's voice and he peered at them both. "Does she—?" He used his head to nod toward Brienne.
"Yes," Brienne and Jaime answered simultaneously.
"I'll have you know, Your Grace, I was not best pleased," Brienne said in a curt voice.
Aemon grimaced. "I appreciate your forewarning. What of the negotiations with the Free Folk?"
"Passing well. I still have not received news whether the wildlings accepted our bargain or not. They were still arguing amongst ourselves by the time we left. Stannis is under orders to continue fortifying his castle and preparing the grounds for them. I think the bulk are too desperate to turn down such an offer, but there may be a few holdouts. Oddly enough, Tormund was one of your greatest champions."
Aemon chuckled. "That seems unlike him."
"I fear things may be worse beyond the Wall than we might know," Jaime said, his mood becoming somber. "Our party was attacked by a White Walker and over one hundred wights. Had I not killed the White Walker when I did, we may never have reached Mance."
Aemon shuddered, concern shadowing his face. "Do you think the Night King knows we're on to him?"
"Difficult to say," Jaime replied. "I don't know what is usual beyond the Wall, but it worries me."
The king nodded and frowned, whispering just loudly enough. "I was … enmeshed in a Free Folk camp, but Lord Commander Mormont had taken the bulk of our men and then the White Walkers attacked. Only a couple dozen men lived to tell the tale."
"When was this?" Brienne asked.
They turned to her, regarding her silently. Jaime made a backwards notion with his head.
Brienne grimaced. The age before that I've only heard stories of, she thought, but it did please her that she was now included in such conversations.
"Thank you for your report, Jaime. I'll be sure to reach out to Lord Commander Mormont upon my return," Aemon replied.
"With any luck, he'll have good news awaiting you further," Jaime said.
They clasped forearms in solidarity. Aemon graced Brienne as well with a forearm clasp before he booted his horse once more and with his Kingsguard, galloped back up to the front of the column. As they waited still for the train to pass, they heard Drogon roar high in the skies above, which made Jaime flinch. He peered up nervously.
Brienne felt her heart go out to him. She knew that Jaime did not fear much, but his tone was somber and his eyes were haunted whenever he spoke of the wildfire, and how he'd charged Drogon on horseback after the dragon had burnt his army to a cinder. It concerned her greatly to see a warrior of such skill so fearful of the fire. When she'd first stepped off the boat in King's Landing to join Renly's cause, she was certain she was not afraid of anything. It wasn't until she'd seen the wight that she knew how wrong she had been.
