He had not gone to the Dragonpit to greet the king, instead choosing to stay at the Red Keep, packing his belongings. The privacy was valued to Jaime, who was mocked when he went to the streets, and shunned by council members inside the Red Keep. With Sansa occupied with matters of the realm, the only ones polite to them were servants whose only jobs were to bow low. He was free, but only as free as a Lannister was in Westeros.
He ought to be grateful. Jaime Lannister had managed to escape from this war with his head still between his shoulders, a minor miracle in itself. Yet he did not feel fortunate. All he felt was hate, and no one to point it at. Cersei was gone. Tyrion, Father, Uncle Kevan, all gone, all bickering in the afterlife without him. He had never been more alone.
Jaime had not spoken with Brienne since the sack of King’s Landing. He could not tell if he avoided her or she, him. Her words kept ringing in his ears. There are few knights who have saved the lives of half a million people. They were the only words that gave him comfort. They almost embarrassed him from facing her.
The funeral service for his sister was done in the Throne Room. He recalled the Silent Sisters and newly selected septons perform their duties as Sansa and the Small Council watched on; people who all hated her. You did too, a voice reminded him. If it weren’t for the Hound, you would have turned Queen as well as Kingslayer.
Jaime felt it mandatory to visit the new king before he left. He found the Stark bastard in his chambers. Sansa, Brienne and an old, blind man were with him. “I trust the capital has been kind, Your Grace?” he said, by means of introduction.
Jon Snow turned. “It has,” he said, giving a feeble smile.
Give it time. “Lady Sansa has been very hospitable,” he said, “but I must make haste to Casterly Rock. Harys Swyft, the castellan, is too old and sickly to be managing the Westerlands.” He gave a bow, and quickly caught the startling blue eyes of Brienne for the last time.
And just like that, he left.
The thought of Casterly Rock gave Jaime some comfort. It was the place he was raised, the hub of his childhood dreams, where he once believed knights were gallant and young princesses pure on the inside. It was his only surrogate for happiness left.
“Ser Jaime!” Brienne’s voice called out from behind. Jaime turned quickly, and felt his fingers perspire. It’s only Jaime, he thought sullenly. “I trust you have heard that Lady Sansa offered me your position, of Commander of the Kingsguard,” she said.
“I have,” Jaime said. The day he heard the news was the day he began shunning Brienne. He still had no idea why.
Brienne looked slightly away, at Jaime’s face but not his eyes. “I’ve decided to decline it,” she said, and the warmth filled his veins. You selfish fool, Jaime immediately scolded himself.
Does it delight you that someone does not take your place? Jaime pondered, and then realized that was not the reason for his joy.
“I’m sad to hear it,” Jaime lied. “Do you plan to stay at the capital for long?”
“No,” she said. “I have not met my father, Lord Selwyn, for years. I imagine I will sail for Tarth to see him.”
“Wonderful,” Jaime replied. “You must visit Casterly Rock if you find the time.” It was meant to be casual, courteous even, but he felt the vulnerability seep through his words, and it was in that moment Jaime Lannister realized he loved her back.
Brienne seemed to have understood the urgency in his words. Her smile was brief, but genuine. “Someday.”
Someday.
*
Comments