The quill scratched along the page, depositing clear, even letters on the parchment as Brienne of Tarth, Lord Commander of the Kingsguard, sat in one of the few remaining rooms in the White Sword Tower adding lines to The Book of Brothers.
Despite the emotions flowing through her veins, her hand stayed steady as she chronicled Jaime Lannister's bravest deeds in calm, smooth strokes.
Took Riverrun from the Tully rebels, without loss of life.
Lured the Unsullied into attacking Casterly Rock, sacrificing his childhood home in service to a greater strategy.
Brienne dipped her quill into the inkpot once more, refilling the nib before lowering it to the parchment again.
She hadn't been Lord Commander of the Kingsguard for very long. In fact, she had only taken her vows three days earlier. The oath she had sworn had differed slightly from the one traditionally sworn by the Kingsguard. Gone was the vow to serve for life, as was the promise never to marry or produce children. King Bran had insisted upon changing the oath, declaring that service in the Kingsguard should be treated as a privilege and not a punishment. Brienne had tried to argue with him, to remind him that such rules had been put in place for a reason. But Bran had softly and calmly dismissed her concerns, reminding her that he was the king and that he knew what was best for all concerned.
Pledged himself to the forces of men and rode north to join them at Winterfell, alone.
Faced the Army of the Dead and defended the castle against impossible odds until the defeat of the Night King.
Brienne had spent a lot of time thinking about Jaime since he'd abandoned her at Winterfell. When he'd first left, she'd cried for days. Oh, not constantly, by any means. She'd kept a brave front before Lady Sansa and the northern lords. But when she'd been alone, alone in her chamber, alone in the bed she and Jaime had once shared, the tears had flowed freely. She'd cried so much that she'd made herself sick. She'd cried until the tears simply wouldn't come anymore.
There had been moments, fleeting though they had been, when Brienne had been able to convince herself that Jaime had ridden south to end Cersei's life, to finish her once and for all. In those moments, Brienne had truly believed that she would someday see him again. But then, reality would come crashing back in on her, and she'd realize that she was just a fool, that Jaime had left because he still loved Cersei, still wanted to be with Cersei, and for no other reason.
News of Jaime's death had reached Winterfell a week after the capital had fallen. The same letter that had contained the report of his death had also included news of Queen Daenerys' demise and an account of the destruction she had wrought in King's Landing.
It had all come as a great shock to Brienne. Although she had been just as wary of Daenerys Targaryen as Lady Sansa had been, she had never expected such a horrific turn of events. It amazed her that both Tyrion Lannister and Jon Snow could have been so wrong in their devotion to the Dragon Queen. Unfortunately, it just reaffirmed for Brienne that men did stupid things for the women they loved, and it made her hate Jaime just a little bit more.
It made her hate him almost as much as she loved him.
Because she did still love him. She could pretend all she wanted that Jaime Lannister meant nothing to her, that he was just a page in her life, the same way he was just a page in The Book of Brothers. But that wasn't the truth, and Brienne took some small pride in the fact that she was at least able to admit that to herself. She was no coward. She had never run from the truth. She loved Jaime, no matter what he had done, no matter how badly he had broken her heart. And she always would.
Brienne dipped her quill once more, tapping the excess ink from the nub. She turned her attention back to the book but couldn't bring herself to write the last line. She'd finished recounting all of Jaime's heroic deeds. There was only one last thing to report.
Brienne pulled her eyes away from the book and stared out into the room, knowing what she must write, but struggling to find the words. She had been tasked with recording Jaime's legacy, and despite how they had parted, she could not, she would not, make him sound like anything less than a hero. Jaime Lannister had not always been honorable, but he'd had his moments, and as far as Brienne was concerned, that was how history would remember him, as an honorable man.
Fighting back her own emotions, Brienne lowered the quill to the page and wrote one last line.
Died protecting his Queen.
Brienne stared at the words for a moment, then lifted her eyes from the page. She thought about Jaime, about how much she had loved him and about how she would never see him again.
Brienne blinked the tears from her eyes and finally closed the book. She sat back in her chair and gazed out into the room for a long time, willing her heart to stop racing, willing herself not to picture his face.
Jaime had never received a proper funeral. After the dust had settled on King's Landing, guards had been sent below the keep to recover Cersei's body. They'd found her lying among the rubble, broken and bloodied, but they'd never found Jaime. His golden hand had been discovered among the fallen bricks, but nothing more. Brienne was sure that his body would eventually be recovered, once reconstruction on the Red Keep began in earnest. No doubt, he was buried quite deeply beneath the rubble, and the guards had simply not wanted to waste the effort in trying to dig him out. And why should they have? He had been on the losing side, after all. They didn't owe him anything, and neither did she.
And yet, there were times, late in the middle of the night when Brienne was lying awake in her room, when she would think about sneaking into the cavernous tunnels beneath the Red Keep and trying to uncover his body. She hated thinking about Jaime all alone down there – dead, battered, forgotten.
And sometimes, all Brienne wanted was for Jaime to stay there, peaceful and undisturbed. Although he hadn't received a proper burial, he had been buried, and his presence in the castle was something of a comfort to her. It wasn't as if she could feel him roaming the halls or watching her from afar, but it was reassuring knowing he was there all the same. Her Jaime, forever a part of the Red Keep, forever beyond her reach.
There was a soft, low rap on the door, and Brienne started out of her reverie. She turned her eyes toward the sound, silently wondering just how long she'd been lost in thought. She cleared her throat and bid her visitor enter.
The door creaked open, and Tyrion Lannister stepped into the room. Brienne inhaled a shallow breath. Although it had been Lord Tyrion who had appointed her Lord Commander of the Kingsguard, they had barely spoken since her return to the capital. They'd both been too busy making arrangements for the future of the Six Kingdoms.
"Am I interrupting you, Lady Brienne? Or should I say, Ser Brienne? Or is it, Lord Commander?" Tyrion shook his head. "I'm not quite sure what I should call you."
"Brienne is fine."
"Of course. Brienne. Am I interrupting you?"
"No, you are not. I was just adding some lines to The Book of Brothers, but I am done now. What can I do for you, Lord Hand?"
Tyrion pushed the door closed behind him and moved toward Brienne. "Tyrion, please. If I am to call you Brienne, you should call me Tyrion."
"Very well, Tyrion. What can I do for you?"
Tyrion stopped on the other side of Brienne's desk and pushed himself up into an empty chair. "You and I haven't had a chance to talk since you returned to King's Landing, and I think that we should."
"About the Kingsguard?"
"About my brother."
Brienne's eyes flickered away from Tyrion, but only for the briefest moment. She was sure he had noticed. He was Tyrion Lannister, after all. He noticed everything.
"What about your brother?" Brienne asked.
"I realize this isn't any of my business—"
"No, it's not."
"But I feel the need to speak to you about it anyway. It's important. There's something I need to know."
"I hope you don't intend to command me to confess my secrets," Brienne said. "You may be Hand of the King, but you are not the sovereign, and you have no control over what is hidden in my mind or my heart."
"Ah, so you do still harbor an affection for my brother in your heart."
Brienne looked at Tyrion with steely eyes. She was not about to confess anything to him. Her feelings for Jaime were just that, her feelings, and she had no intention of sharing them with anyone, not even the Hand of the King.
"Your brother betrayed us in his final moments," Brienne answered. "He abandoned the side of right and returned to the Red Keep to protect your sister. How you can think I would hold the slightest bit of affection for him after that is beyond me. I once thought that Jaime Lannister was a man of honor, but in his final days, he did everything he could to prove me wrong."
"Yes, that may be true," Tyrion said slowly, "but that doesn't mean you don't still love him."
Brienne hardened her jaw and fought to rein in her frustration. She had always been even-tempered. It's what made her a good fighter. But Tyrion Lannister was baiting her on purpose. She didn't know what he wanted from her, why he was trying to make her confess her true feelings, but whatever his scheme, she wanted no part of it.
"Only a fool would love him after what he did," Brienne said. "Are you calling me a fool?"
"No, not at all," Tyrion replied. "I think you are one of the most levelheaded individuals I have ever had the pleasure of knowing. I think you are smart and practical and see the world as it really is and not how you want it to be."
"Then how can you accuse me of loving Ser Jaime?"
Tyrion rested his arms on the sides of his chair and leaned in closer. "Because you do see the world as it really is, and you don't let your emotions cloud your judgment. For all his faults, you know my brother was a good man, and that's why you still love him. Because despite what he did–or what you think he did–in his final days, you know that, deep down inside, he was honorable to a fault."
"What I think he did?" Brienne questioned. "I know what he did."
"Do you?"
"Yes, of course, I do. They found that blasted golden hand beneath the Red Keep not a foot away from your cursed sister. I know what he did. We all know what he did."
"But do you know why? For certain?"
Brienne straightened in her chair, her back going rigid. "He told me why."
"And what did he tell you?"
The breath caught in Brienne's throat as she fought the memory she'd been avoiding for so long. Tyrion wanted her to relive that horrible moment, the moment Jaime had turned his back on her, and that was the last thing in the world she wanted to do.
Brienne steadied her nerves before she tried to answer, willing her voice to remain calm. "He told me that he had to go to her. And then, he recited a litany of his sins, all the horrible things he had done just for Cersei."
"And?"
"And that was it. That was all. He—" Brienne nearly choked on the word. The memory was so painful, so visceral, that it nearly took her breath away. "He turned away from me and got on his horse. He rode through the gates and never looked back."
Brienne left out the rest of it. She left out the part where she'd begged him to stay, where he had ridden out of the yard as she'd stood there in tears. How could there be anything honorable in the way Jaime had left her? He had turned his back on her in favor of his sister. He had abandoned her despite her pleading, and she knew she would never fully recover from it.
"What would you have done if he had survived?" Tyrion asked.
Brienne blinked, forcing her eyes to refocus on Tyrion, his words suddenly pulling her back to the present. "What?"
"If Jaime had survived, if he had somehow managed to make it out of the Red Keep alive, what would you have done? Would you have taken him back with open arms, or would you have spent the rest of your life shunning him?"
Brienne was startled by the question, not because she hadn't thought about it, but because she had never expected Tyrion Lannister to ask her such a thing. When Jaime had first left, she had spent days, weeks, imagining what she would do if he ever returned to Winterfell asking for forgiveness. Sometimes, in her grief, she had imagined forgiving him, wrapping her arms around him and kissing him senseless until he promised never to leave again. And other times, she had imagined turning him away and vowing never to speak to him again, no matter how much he begged.
Brienne wasn't sure how to answer Tyrion. He was the Hand of the King after all, and if she wanted to keep her position, she knew it was in her best interest to stay on his good side. But she didn't want to lie to him, and she didn't want him to know how undecided she was about the answer to his question. So she said the only thing she could say, "I'm sorry, my lord, but I can't answer that."
The corner of Tyrion's mouth quirked in a smile. "It's Tyrion, Brienne, remember?"
"Tyrion," she said, her voice trembling despite her best efforts. "I can't answer that question. Or more precisely, I don't have a suitable answer."
"Because you think I will find fault with you if you don't give me the answer you think I'm looking for?"
"No, because without being in that situation, I have no way of knowing how I would behave. It is very easy to make plans in one's mind, but even the best plans can fall apart in execution. I think the sack of King's Landing is a perfect illustration of that point, don't you?" Brienne asked in challenge.
For a moment, she thought Tyrion was going to be offended by the insinuation in her words, but suddenly, his smile broadened and he leaned back in his chair. "I can see why my brother liked you. More than liked you."
"I hope you are not planning to press your own suit," Brienne said. "I realize that King Bran has done away with forced celibacy for the Kingsguard, but I personally plan to honor that commitment, even without the vow. Besides, I'm sure you have better prospects than the Lord Commander of the Kingsguard."
Tyrion laughed. "I no longer have any prospects myself. Just duty and honor till the end of my days. Apparently, I shall die just as celibate and alone as you, Brienne."
"What a charming thought," she said flatly.
Tyrion laughed again. "Yes, I definitely like you." He climbed down from his chair and stopped for a moment to look up at her. "Thank you for this little chat. May I visit you again sometime?"
"I really wish you wouldn't."
"I'll take that as a maybe then," he said with a shrug. "But for now, I shall bid you good day, Brienne."
"Good day, Tyrion."
The moment Tyrion exited the room, Brienne sighed heavily, her shoulders slumping with the effort. She closed her eyes and leaned her head back against the chair, willing her emotions under control. She hated talking about Jaime with anyone. She still didn't know what Tyrion Lannister had been after by visiting her, but she knew he'd been after something. For a moment, he'd almost made her think that he had an interest in pursuing her romantically, but that was just absurd. No, he wanted something else from her, she just didn't know what it was, but she was sure she would find out in due time.