What Was Left

Chapter 9

Brienne froze in her tracks. Her eyes fell upon Jaime, her face registering what could only be described as outrage, after the shock dissipated. She reddened with anger, barely able to draw breath through the paralyzing stunned furor that washed over her. It felt that all eyes in the room were riveted upon her, waiting to see how she would react. As with all those in her life who had tried to wrench emotion from her, Brienne would not give them that satisfaction. She simply regarded Jaime contemptuously as she passed, and then sat stiffly in her chair, her back to him.

Brienne's glare as she moved through the room made Jaime feel the size of an insect. He had not meant to cause her such distress, and wished she would have had more warning for his presence there. It seemed he was doing everything wrong. The eyes of the room had moved to him, gauging his response to Brienne's ignoring him so coldly. Jaime did not care. His only concern was how deeply she must be suffering. His pained eyes watched her from behind. Even through her armor, Jaime could see the unintended quickness of her breathing. He could almost hear the racing of her heart.

Jaime ached to speak with Brienne, to say something that would bring her comfort, and ease her distress. They were but paces from each other, and he had never felt so distanced from anyone. He wanted all of the others in the room to vanish. Everything there was for him to tell her, was for no one else to hear. Instead of falling to his knees before the woman he loved and declaring himself to her, Jaime simply followed Tyrion, and took the only empty chair available. He sat, an afterthought, behind Tarly and Davos. At least it put him facing Brienne, within the field of her vision. Her agonized glare did not move from the table top.

He sat for only a moment staring intently at Brienne, who looked a though she wanted to nothing more than to turn to dust, when his imaginings were interrupted by the King. The council stood, respectfully as the young monarch entered, his wheeled chair pushed by Ser Podrick Payne. From across the room Jaime could see Podrick instantly tense at the sight of him. He was certain that if given the chance, the King's Sworn Shield would take great pleasure in running him through. Jaime could not blame him, and noticed how with a turn of his head, Podrick quickly checked to ensure that Brienne was alright. He was grateful, and glad she had such a friend. If he could not watch over her, Jaime knew Podrick would.

"I see we are all here." Bran almost smiled, as Podrick settled his chair at the head of the table and stepped back.

"Yes." Bronn smirked. "All of us." He jeered, rolling his eyes at Jaime.

It was Brienne who furthered that discussion. "Your Grace, if I may." She began. "Ser Jaime is not a member of the Small Council." She pointed out needlessly. "Perhaps his presence here could be viewed as inappropriate. Would it not be better that he should wait elsewhere until our proceedings are concluded?" Her question was more of an urgent suggestion. Never once did Brienne bring her eyes to Jaime, her jaw set in a steely resolve.

King Bran nodded as if he knew Brienne would object. "I appreciate your concern, Lord Commander." He acknowledged. "However, I have asked that Ser Jaime observe our business in these meetings." Brienne seemed shocked. "I have appointed him as Assistant to the Hand of the King, and it would be best if he were aware of the business of the Council." His authoritative tone made it clear that the matter would not be discussed. Jaime watched Brienne, trying to gauge her level of contempt but hoping for her approval. All he saw as the slight grinding of her teeth.

"Of course, Your Grace." Brienne nodded, conceding her stance without argument, but Jaime could tell, quite reluctantly.

"Shall we begin?" King Bran asked of his closest advisors. There were no objections.

Jaime spent the rest of the afternoon, seated behind his brother, never taking his eyes from Brienne. She did a valiant job of not looking at him once. If it had not been for the aching in his heart, and the concentration he had riveted upon Brienne, Jaime would have been bored to distraction. Even in his short tenure as Lord Commander, Jaime had given little attention to such monotonous bureaucracy. He was a man of action. Then, it had meant battle. Now, it was finding a way to win back Brienne's heart which obsessed his thoughts.