Keeper

A Kingslayer, His Keeper, and The Lady of Tarth

"Why do you ask, Lady Brienne?" She replied. "It is as I told Lady Catelyn, I was exiled from Bear Island after Ser Jorah fled the sword held by Ned Stark. I was so young at the time-"

"Firstly, please call me Brienne. I am no Lady. And secondly, I don't believe you." Brienne interjected. She tossed the bone into the fire and wiped her fingers against the handkerchief she'd been given at the start of their meal, which was when Jaime had still been awake. He'd only been asleep a matter of hours, but she knew from experience that once he was asleep, he wasn't waking up easily unless harm was to come to him. "I've seen the other Mormonts, learned about them in my studies with Septa Roelle. You look nothing of the sort. And that sword you're carrying?" She motioned to Blackfyre with a flick of her hand. "It's Valyrian steel. There's only a handful of them left in the Seven Kingdoms, and they're not easy to come by."

This would've been where she inserted a witty remark or changed the topic, but Rhaella was so awed by how Brienne paid attention to even the slightest detail that she remained silent.

"Your hair is dark but your eyes are bright, brighter then most people I've come across. Your armor is the same. Forged of rare black metal and is missing the House emblem on the breast. You want to know what I think?" She leaned forward on her heels and smiled over the dance of the flames that sat between them. "Personally, I think you're the Lost Targaryen girl. The eldest daughter.. Oh, what was her name. The one everyone thinks to be murdered alongside her father."

She didn't say another word for the rest of the night simply because Brienne couldn't actually prove it, or remember the eldest Targaryen daughters name. Rhaella had seen the way she'd stood tall in the presence of Catelyn Stark and imagined it was the same for whoever she'd served as a Kingsguard, but she knew Brienne of Tarth was a woman of honor and would keep whatever oaths or secrets she was given privilege to know.

Jaime was the first awake that following morning and once again they set off further through their trek in the Riverlands. It was relatively silent for the greater duration of the time, waves lapping against the boat as they smoothly sailed through the water. The air was warm and the sun reluctantly peered from behind the clouds that hung overhead, but she and Brienne were in good spirits.

Until Jaime started talking again.

"You're a virgin, I take it?"

That earned him a well placed slap across the arm. "Jaime." Rhaella deadpanned. His name flowed so easily from her mouth that it didn't occur to her Brienne hadn't heard her say it until that point. "You don't go around asking people questions like that! It's wrong and it's rude and-"

"Doesn't faze me in the slightest, Ella." Brienne replied. "Walk, Kingslayer." The two women walked in sync and shoved Jaime forward, Brienne's hand firmly wrapped around the rope that bound his hands.

"I imagine your childhood was miserable for you. Were you a foot taller then all the other boys? They laughed at you, called you names. Some boys like a challenge. One or two must've tried to get inside Big Brienne."

Her mind flashed back to one of her earliest memories as a young girl with Jaime. Her father had forced her to attend a ball, for what reason she could not remember, but she'd only agreed to go because Rhaegar whispered promises of sword-play and Jaime had also promised to be in attendance. She remembered the way the older boys ogled her. Barely thirteen years old, adorned in Targaryen red, bright eyes and silver hair plaited neatly down her spine as she gracefully moved across the floor of the Great Hall.

"Did you hear about the Targaryen girl's infertility? They say she will not be able to produce heirs. Who will marry her?"

"She'd be lucky to snatch a highborn husband."