A Rest of Swords

Part twelve

"Then may I ask what you are planning to do when this day comes?"

"I go where she goes", Jaime said shortly - It was as simple as that.

"Is that so." Lord Selwyn leaned back in his chair, his eyes fixed on Jaime over merged fingertips. "Then you would be willing to give up your own claims to stay here on Tarth with my daughter?"

"I don't have any claims, Mylord."

"You are the eldest son of Tywin Lannister, are you not, Ser?", he countered. "That makes you the heir to Casterly Rock." He said it as a fact, but Jaime just shook his head.

"The Rock belongs to my brother", he explained politely, but leaving no room to question. "I lost my right to inherit when I took the white cloak, even if I'm not wearing it anymore. But even without the rules of the Kingsguard", he added, "I never wanted it anyway. Casterly Rock should have been Tyrion's a long time ago and I made sure that it finally is without any cause for contestation." Brienne's father watched him attentively, apparently eager to notice every twitch on his face, every change in his voice, every hint of untruthfulness. If what he found left him satisfied, Jaime couldn't tell.

"Very well." He appears honest. Perhaps lands and titles actually aren't what he's come for after all...But then what-?
He paused and Jaime already thought that he was done, when the Lord's mouth suddenly curled into a smile, a sort of smile that made him slightly uncomfortable, even though he couldn't quite put his finger on the reason.
"One last question, Ser", he said then. "Apart from leading with strength, justice and honesty, a leader also has another obligation." The sparkle in his eyes left Jaime wondering what was there to come, but he wasn't kept waiting for long. "I'm talking about securing the survival of our line", Lord Selwyn said meaningfully, watching Jaime as if he were waiting for anything amusing. "Brienne will have to produce descendants and those, as you can clearly understand, will have to go by the name of Tarth. There has always been a Tarth on the throne of this isle, and that's how it will be until it is nothing more than dust in the seas of time." He waited after this slightly pompous declaration, apparently pleased with himself. "Are you really willing to abandon your name, your family, or at least not to have your children named after their father?"
It was obvious that he thought this might finally unsettle the young man who had been so composed until now. Surely, these conditions couldn't be acceptable for any man with a decent amount of pride. But to his surprise, Jaime only smiled.

"Of course, I understand your point, Lord Selwyn", he said calmly. "And I agree. There should be a Tarth on the throne of this isle." The puzzlement on the other's face flickered with a hint of disappointment, making Jaime the one smiling to himself now. He'll get over it.
"What you have to understand", he went on, "is that my home and my family lie with your daughter now. My name means nothing. But beyond that, my reputation precedes me and so does my house's - I'm not keen on handing this burden over to my children."

Jaime couldn't deny that he was enjoying this, but that made his words no less of the truth. He meant what he said. His name meant nothing. Not anymore. If he was honest, he couldn't wait to leave at least some of its load behind.
He smiled internally at the thought of his father. He hoped there was a life after death so that Lord Tywin would have to watch how his name and legacy were now resting solely on Tyrion's shoulders. Look at your precious children, father. The pride of house Lannister. Maybe there was some justice in this world after all.

o~o~o~o~o~o~o~o~o

That night, Jaime lay awake a long time, staring at the ceiling of his chamber, thinking. He went through the conversation with Lord Selwyn, turned the words over in his mind.
Now that he was past this first step, he had his next to think through. It should be planned, shouldn't it? A location, a certain time, a speech perhaps. A ring? He had no idea how to set up something like this, had never had to think about it, had not even thought that he would ever have to. With Cersei, it had always been out of the question. With Brienne, everything stood open. They were free, he was free, everything seemed possible. And that brought countless possibilities to choose from.
Jaime drew his hand over his face, rubbed his tired, burning eyes. He should sleep. He wanted to sleep, but every time he closed his eyes, his mind began to work, imagining thousands of scenarios what he could do, what he could say, what could go wrong. Not that he was sure she would reject him. But he didn't think she was expecting him to pop the question either. Neither of them seemed to be suited for marriage, they had both made their peace with that fact a long time ago. A lifetime ago, Jaime thought. For that it had been for him, another life, the life of another person.
He knew what he wanted now. To be honest, he had always wanted the same thing, he had just never thought it possible. As a young boy at Casterly Rock, the Septas had read them stories about princes and princesses, knights in shining golden armour that saved the lady of their heart from cruel witches and dangerous beasts. Stories of brave men that escaped the fiery breath of dragons to take their women home to their castles, married them and lived happily ever after. The little boy with the blonde locks had listened eagerly, had imagined himself -grownup and handsome, the saviour of a beautiful woman he would make his wife. Later, the face of that woman had transformed into that of his sister in his mind, her hair blowing around her beauty as they rode into the sunset. He had been stupid. Foolish. Naive. Of course, he had to find out that none of that would be possible with Cersei. They were living in the shadows, spun a net of secrecy and lies. No castles, no dragons, no sunset, no marriage. And yet he had hoped it enough to get the happily ever after, had told himself that she would be enough.
He sighed, looked down at the sleeping Brienne next to him, listened to her steady and peaceful breath for a moment. She was nothing like his childhood imagination. She was not beautiful, she didn't need to be rescued, she was nothing like any of the women in those stories.
No, she was more. She was not pretty, she was magnificent. She wasn't helpless, she had been the one saving him. And she would be the one he was going to marry.