Within a moon of making the decision to accept King Bran's appointment as Lord Commander of his Kingsguard, Brienne found herself awakening within the expanse of her new quarters in the White Sword Tower of the Red Keep. She and Galladon were quickly settling into their new life in Kings Landing. The tower that housed the guard had been partially rebuilt after the destruction waged by Daenarys Targaryen's dragon. One entire side of the ancient structure had been almost completely obliterated. The Lord Commander's apartments had sustained the worst of the damage, and required the most extensive repairs. Holding Galladon close to her as she surveyed the chambers, Brienne was thankful she would not need to take up residence within the rooms that had actually belonged to Jaime when he held the position. She had forced herself not to dwell upon the knowledge that the Red Keep was where he died. Living with his son, in the very rooms once occupied by him would have been too much to bear. She could not even bring herself to walk near the stairway that led to the lower foundations in the main part of the castle. She doubted she would ever have the courage to look upon place he had been killed.
'Killed holding Cersei in his arms.' Brienne sighed to herself in disgust. She imagined his calm fulfillment in that moment, undoubtedly relieved that it was not her to whom he was pledging his life. She rolled her eyes at her own thoughts. 'Assuredly, you were the farthest thing from his mind, Beauty of Tarth.' She told herself bitterly.
As if sensing his mother's distraction, Galladon wriggled in her arms, and began to whine to break his fast. Brought back to her child's present need, Brienne gasped. She had not realized the hours had passed so quickly. Without delay, she seated herself on the bed. Her new armor was still being wrought, and she wore only her gray leather gambeson, which made slipping herself from its confines much easier. Brienne soon found herself soothed like her infant as the boy settled against her and nursed contentedly. She was quite surprised that here in this bustling place, beginning a whole new chapter in their lives, with so much new and exciting, that together they fell into their same comforting patterns. So much had changed, yet Galladon was her constant source of peace and happiness.
Queen Sansa had seen to it that they travel to Kings Landing with no less than a garrison of men to accompany them, including Ser Podrick. Sansa had insisted that the troops were being to sent to bolster Bran's army in King's Landing. However, Brienne could tell that their presence along her journey was to ensure the safety of a new mother and her child from the dangers of the highway. It was a precaution for which Brienne would be eternally beholden to The Queen in the North. She could easily fight off even a group of ill-intentioned outlaws. However, with a babe in tow, she was glad she had not needed to. A smile brightened her face at the thought of The Queen in the North. Brienne realized that the grin which danced upon her lips was also because of the excitement of a new beginning.
Galladon stirred as Brienne gazed at him. He had finished from her, and was looking up into her face with a delightful smile. She bent her neck to nuzzle his nose, and lost herself imagining the future they would share as her little boy grew. Her joyous loving laughter rang through the Lord Commander's chambers. Brienne tightened her gambeson once more, and without realizing, she began softly singing a sweet lullaby with which her father had serenaded her as a child.
Mother and babe strolled out upon the terrace, a new and lavish feature of the refurbished chamber. The stone balcony overlooked the training yard, and was meant to be used to review the troops when the Lord Commander was otherwise occupied with duties. It promised, however, to be a personal retreat for the new commandant and her child.
Brienne walked with Galladon into the warm morning sunshine. She halted halfway toward the railing, the familiar aroma of salt air playing with her senses. She breathed deeply and peered thoughtfully at her surroundings. Upon her face, Brienne wore a look of satisfied anticipation.
Brienne kissed her babe's soft sweet head, and sighed heartily at the sheer joy of him. "Well, what do you think, Little One?" She smiled . "Are we going to be happy here?" Brienne asked, intensely interested in his opinion. At that moment, as if to signal the affirmative to his mother, Galladon cooed playfully. Brienne held him closer, thrilled that he seemed to agree. "Good things are going to happen for us here." She promised him. "I can feel it." Brienne declared.
——————————
A soft knocking at her door brought Brienne from her thoughts of the future. With Galladon resting peacefully against her, she went to meet whomever was calling upon her. She opened the entrance to her quarters softly and found the face of Tyrion Lannister staring amiably up at her.
Brienne stiffened at the sight of her son's uncle. "Lord Tyrion." She announced formally.
"Lord Commander." Tyrion bowed his head in respect. As he lifted his eyes his gaze fell upon the profile of tiny Galladon, held protectively in Brienne's arms. He smiled easily, but quickly returned his attention back to the child's mother. It was her good graces he sought this day. He rung the tension from his hands as he began his tactful prodding. "I was hoping I could speak to you regarding a rather, delicate matter." He said, choosing his words carefully.
Drawing in a cautious, and apprehensive breath, Brienne could conjure no reason to refuse his request. She knew that it was important to remain civil to the Hand of the King, even if he was Jaime's brother, and even if she suspected his impetus for seeking her this day had more to do with her son, than with matters of the realm. Without a word, Brienne lowered her chin and backed away from the door, granting him admittance to her residence.
Tyrion stepped a few paces into the room as Brienne closed the door. He stood nervously as she circled slowly to face him. "What is it you wish to discuss, My Lord?" She asked wearily.
Clearing his throat, Tyrion decided to be direct. "I was hoping you would allow me a glimpse of my nephew." Her told her. His tone hopeful. "Your babe, is my nephew, is he not?" He questioned knowingly.
Brienne only eyed him in response. Her stare was piercing, yet her stomach churned with dread. She did not confirm his assumptions, but her silence did not deny them either. Of course he was correct, and she knew that he knew.
Her lack of response caused Tyrion to rethink his phrasing. "Forgive me." He begged. "I did not mean to cast aspersions against your character." Tyrion stammered. "It was not my intent to suggest that you, and others..." His cheeks reddened with embarrassment. He was mortified at his inability to find the right words. Brienne was unmoving.
Tyrion halted, took a deep breath, and began again. "That is, I know that you and Jaime were close at Winterfell." He winced at describing the deep love he knew Brienne had shared with Jaime in such casual terms. "It is clear that he is the father of your child." Tyrion acknowledged, warmly. He understood how difficult the matter must be for her.
"The details of my son's lineage is not a topic open to discussion." Brienne said shortly.
Tyrion nodded. "Forgive me for prying." He asked, becoming silent and pensive, studying the floor. When he looked up, Brienne was taken aback by the earnestness that rested upon his features. "Please." He stated simply, hopefully. "Might I look upon him?" His eyes almost misted with emotion.
Brienne took pity upon Tyrion in that moment. She had not been the only one who lost Jaime, and she knew what it was to be last living sibling of your line. Brienne sighed, and turned her child around in her arms to face his uncle. She bent slightly to allow Tyrion a clearer view. He peered at the boy's large blue eyes as they blinked widely at him. The child took his breath away. Save for those eyes, which the babe had obviously inherited from his mother, even in infancy Galladon was the spitting image of Jaime. More than anything, he longed to admit the truth, that the babe's father was alive and only just a short walk away. Instead, he began to weave his case in Jaime's favor.
"It is your son's parentage of which I must speak." Tyrion admitted.
"I do not see how that is any of your business." Brienne answered abruptly, straightening and clutching her child closer to her.
Tyrion all but ignored her indignation, and continued. "What Jaime did to you, to him, was abominable." He declared. "I would like legitimize Galladon." He stared hopefully at Brienne. "I beg you to allow me to right my brother's wrong, and give your child the Lannister name." Tyrion beseeched.
"My son has a name." Brienne shot back angrily. "He is of Tarth." She said proudly.
Tyrion could hold no longer to cordiality. His wish was far too important. "He is the heir to Casterly Rock." He reminded. "It is his birthright." He proclaimed.
"My son is the heir of Evenfall." Brienne answered nobly. "He will someday be the Evenstar. That is his birthright." She countered. "I mean no offense, Lord Tyrion, but Lannister is the last title by which I would wish for my son to be known." Brienne was unsure if she was able to hide the hurt in her tone.
"But, My Lady..." Tyrion was near desperation.
Almost, as Brienne's reprieve, their conversation was interrupted by a timid knock. She let out a grateful sigh, and practically raced to the door. She swung the panel open and found Septa Vaele waiting timidly on the other side. The young girl had only just taken her vows, and had been charged with watching over young Galladon when Brienne's duties called her away from her infant son. Brienne smiled and bid the girl to enter.
Turning to Tyrion, Brienne took the opportunity to extricate herself from his offerings. "Please accept my wishes for my child, and do not speak of this matter again." She demanded, sternly. "If you will excuse me, My Lord, I must instruct the Septa on my son's care for the day, and then see to my duties." With that, Brienne ended his debating.
Everything within him wanted to remain and argue his point, but Tyrion realized it would do no good. He lowered his head in defeat. He could see that no amount of pressing or cajoling would change her mind. He felt as though he had failed Jaime, yet again, but conceded to Brienne's request. "Lord Commander." He nodded, and then turned on his heels and left her quarters in disappointment.
Brienne stood watching after him for a moment, unable to find breath. Just as her heart began to shatter, and the tears inched their way up the back of her throat, Brienne once again chased thoughts of Jaime from her mind. She forced a deep breath, and snapped her attention back to the matter at hand. She gave Septa Vaele a masking smile, and gently laid Galladon into the girl's arms.
"I shall be in The Round Room tending to Guard matters should he need me." Brienne told the girl as she nestled Galladon into her cradling grasp. Septa Vaele nodded her understanding.
"Put him down to nap, and bring him to me for his midday feeding when he awakens." Brienne instructed. She had refused to employ a wet nurse, preferring to see to the care of her child herself, and Galladon was quickly becoming a common sight throughout the White Sword Tower as well as the Training Grounds.
"Yes, My Lady." Septa Vaele answered.
"Lord Commander." Brienne corrected kindly, but firmly. She had earned that title.
"Lord Commander." The girl bowed, acknowledging Brienne's authority.
———————————
Tyrion was deep in thought as he made his way through the shining halls of the Red Keep, returning to his quarters in the Tower of the Hand. The disappointment of Brienne's refusal to allow him to legitimize her son, gnawed at him. His only wish was to give Jaime's child all that he deserved. Tyrion's scowl would have made it seem that he resented his new position as King Bran's advisor. However, Tyrion's almost perpetual sour mood was far from the result of his new appointment. He was happy to be of help in the rebuilding of Westeros, but his mind had been consumed with Jaime's care for nearly a year. Tyrion could not help but recall the day he had found Jaime, somehow still alive in the crumbled foundations of the Keep, Cersei's crushed corpse lying lifeless beside him.
Tyrion would never know where he found the strength to pull Jaime from the heap of bricks and dust, nor how he was able to haul his brother as far as he had. A healer's hovel would have been a much better option than the tiny billet in the only portion of the Keep's outer wall, near the White Sword Tower, that looked as if it still stood a chance of remaining erect. He had managed to keep secret the fact that Jamie was alive and mending in a forgotten, unvisited corner of the fortress. Each day as he trekked there, Tyrion was certain he would find Jaime succumbed to his injuries. Much to his relief, his fears were assuaged as Jaime fought for his life. It was as if some force was driving him toward strength, toward life. Tyrion knew it was Jaime's love for Brienne.
Over the long months, Tyrion saw to every aspect of his brother's recovery, fearful that any moment might have seen Jaime's mortality. Now, that death no longer loomed over the elder Lannister, Tyrion was faced with the quandary of how to reintroduce Jaime to the world of the living. He could not keep the man locked away forever. He knew his brother already felt like a prisoner. His full health close to being restored, Tyrion could not tell how long it would be before Jaime found his own way out of his refuge.
Tyrion's dilemma had suddenly been made even more complicated by the arrival of Brienne, with Jaime's son. He knew it was only a matter of time before they came face to face, Jaime would see to that. Tyrion understood how much Jaime loved Brienne, that was clear from the way he looked at her at Winterfell. There was no way he would ever believe that his brother had wanted to abandon Brienne. Although they had not spoken of it, Tyrion realized what fate would have befallen Jaime's lover if Cersei had learned the truth. He knew Jaime had left in order to keep Brienne safe. Now, it was a forgone conclusion that once Jaime learned Brienne was near, there would be no stopping him from getting to her. He would be unable to stay away.
Tyrion's thoughts swirled, as his path led him across the courtyard. He did not even see The King being escorted through the grounds by Ser Podrick Payne and several guards. Tyrion had almost reached his targeted doorway when he was summoned from his worries by Bran's call.
"My Lord, Tyrion." Bran beckoned, from several paces away.
Tyrion stopped in his tracks. He knew his duty was do the King's bidding, but he had plans to make. With a sigh he hoped Bran did not see, Tyrion understood his designs would need to wait. He lifted his head and painted a cheerful smile over his face. "Your Grace." He said surprised, as he turned. "Forgive me. I was deep in thought." He explained as fast as he could.
"No doubt, already worried over the good of the realm." Bran smiled distantly. A choked and nervous clearing of his throat was Tyrion's only answer.
"Might I have a word?" Bran contiued.
"Of course, Your Grace." Tyrion complied.
Bran motioned for Podrick to wheel him under a shaded portico, and the bid him to wait a short distance away. With a bow, Ser Podrick did as he was asked. Tyrion followed the King into the breezeway, wondering what business Bran had for him, and how that might change his own for the care of his brother. Bran motioned for his Hand to sit on a low bench next to him. Again, Tyrion complie, and waited for Bran to begin.
After a long moment, the King finally spoke. "It is a wonder how quickly The Keep has been rebuilt, is it not?" Bran asked, almost casually.
Tyrion nodded. "Yes. It certainly is." He concurred. "The finest artisans and craftsmen in the six kingdoms have been laboring day and night to make it ready for you." He reported proudly.
Bran surveyed the environs. "They have done wonders." He agreed. "Of course there is still that part of the old wall, near the White Sword Tower, that will need refurbishing." He commented.
Tyrion's blood chilled. "Yes. Your Grace." He cleared his throat, nervously. The still damaged portion of which Bran spoke was exactly the part of the castle where Tyrion had hidden Jaime these many months.
"That does mean you will need to find new lodging for your brother." Bran informed him, his tone not changing.
There seemed no air in Tyrion's lungs as he struggled to find breath. Had Bran known all along? "Your Grace?" He questioned, trying to sound innocent.
Bran held up his hand to quiet any further attempts by Tyrion to deny the truth. "I know you have been hiding Ser Jaime there." Bran revealed. "That you have been seeing to his recovery." He said without judgement.
"Your Grace, I..." Tyrion's brain spun to find a plausible denial, or least an excuse.
"Lord Tyrion." Bran interrupted him. "There is no need to be conciliatory, nor is there any cause for distress." He said assuredly. "You have done nothing that I would not have done for my own dear brothers." Bran face saddened at the thought. "If I could have." He finished, his voice falling.
For some reason, Tyrion still felt the need to explain himself. He eyed the ground, nervously. "It was not my intention to deceive you." Tyrion explained. "It was as far as I could manage to get him, after I discovered his mangled body still breathing in the rubble." He shuddered. "I am aware of your history with my brother, Your Grace." Tyrion reddened to reveal his knowledge that Jaime had been the one who pushed Bran from the tower at Winterfell. Crippling the boy for life.
"Ser Jaime and I reached an understanding about the past at upon his arrival in the North." Bran confided. "There is no resentment. Neither of us would be the men we are today if it had not happened." He affirmed.
"I did not know if you would be accepting of him here." Tyrion felt as though he were rambling, as if he needed to beg Bran's forgiveness, and his benevolence.
"Please, do not apologize, My Lord." The King assured him. "You have been a good brother, and you have harmed no one." He said sincerely. "Ser Jaime is a good man. He is more than welcome here." Bran almost smiled. "He deserves better than what was dealt to him." Bran declared.
"Yes. He does." Tyrion agreed bitterly.
"He is very nearly mended from his injuries." Bran acknowledged. Tyrion was confounded he had not realized that of course The Three Eyed Raven would have been aware of all that occurred in the Realm, and especially within The Red Keep.
"I do not believe that Ser Jaime can stay in that tiny cell for much longer, however." Bran suggested. "Especially now, that Ser Brienne has taken up residence in The Keep, with their child." He said thoughtfully, again revealing facts not commonly known.
Tyrion cocked his head to one side, and raised his brow. "Jaime does not exactly know that part." He admitted.
"You did not tell him she would be arriving to assume her duties as Lord Commander?" Bran played along with Tyrion's charade.
"No. I did not." Tyrion admitted, and took a deep guilty breath. "He also does not know about the babe." Tyrion revealed, almost holding his breath in embarrassment. Then he lifted his head, in recognition. "But of course you knew that." He said rhetorically. "Just as you knew of his presence here." Tyrion smiled in amazement.
"Yes." Bran said. "I also know that Ser Jaime's life was not meant to be lived with your Queen Cersei." His tone grew so serious it worried Tyrion. "He has a far greater purpose, and there was a reason behind everything your brother did." Bran said stoically. Tyrion realized the King was not simply speaking of Jaime's leaving Winterfell, but of all his deeds, including that which had left Bran Stark a cripple. Tyrion tried not to contemplate that fact too intensely, but instead envisioned what Jaime's life might have been if he and Brienne had come to know each other much sooner. As if reading his Hand's mind, King Bran provided the narration to his thoughts.
"Regardless of what your brother was made to believe for so many years, despite being born together, he and your sister were not soulmates." Bran went on. "His destiny was always Ser Brienne. They were always meant to be together." He proclaimed.
Tyrion eyed Bran incredulously. "Why do I get the feeling this subject has greater importance than a simple coupling?" He inquired.
Bran nodded as if he were seeing something before his eyes, that Tyrion could not discern. "All things work together in ways we cannot always see, to bring about a greater good." His words were wise, well beyond his years. "Their 'coupling', as you call it, will have a immense impact upon Westeros for generations to come." Bran promised. Tyrion stood wide-eyed beside him.
"However, first we must find a way to bring them together again." Bran reminded him.
Tyrion contemplated Bran's words. "From what I understand through my corresponding with your sister, Queen Sansa, Ser Brienne's current opinion of my brother will make that most difficult." He warned.
"That is to be expected. After all, he did break her heart, and then left to bear his child alone." Bran said sympathetically.
"It will take a monumental effort." Tyrion sighed at the task ahead.
"Wothwhile tasks are seldom easy." Bran encouraged. "Perhaps you should start by informing Ser Jaime that he has a son." He suggested. "Perhaps it is time Ser Jaime and Ser Brienne renewed their acquaintance." He regarded Tyrion to see if his meaning was understood. Tyrion nodded his affirmative. Then Bran motioned to his guards that their talk was through.
———————————
Brienne tried to swallow the anger of Tyrion's visit, and the guilt of leaving her child as she stormed through the corridor. The interrogation from Jaime's apparently well meaning brother, and his misguided offer of legitimacy was the very last thing she needed. She would do anything to keep the world from suspecting the truth about Galladon's father. It was bad enough that Tyrion knew. She was fairly certain that she had not heard the last of his intent. Her resolve on the issue would never waver.
Brienne's stride slowed as her heart finally stopped racing. Against her wishes, her mind traveled to a place she did not want it to go. She wondered at what it might have been. What if there were no need to legitimize her son, if the rights of his father's sir name had truly been his from his from the day he was born? If Jaime had not left, would he have claimed their son? Would they have married? It was useless to contemplate things that never happened. She was all Galladon had, as he was to her.
Her anger cooled, but longing gripped her heart like a vice, and this time it was not for Jaime. Brienne did not think she would ever get used to the empty feeling that crawled into the pit of her stomach each time she walked away from her little boy. Of course, her duties were of the utmost importance to her and she never neglected them. However, it was her son that often consumed her thoughts. She did not feel whole when she was away from him.
Before she realized it, Brienne had descended the stairs that led to The Round Room and was standing in front of weirwood table it contained, still contemplating her babe. With a deep breath, she refocused her thoughts and seated herself in The Lord Commander's Chair. From nowhere, another image found her notice, a memory. She did not understand why. She had been in this room as Lord Commander a number of times since her arrival, and it had not crossed her mind. Perhaps it was the notion of her son which had preoccupied her mind. It could have been her apprehension at leaving in the past so much of what came before. Maybe it was the way Oathkeeper shone on the table where she had laid the precious weapon, much like the first time she had it. Something brought him to her mind, and she suddenly saw so clearly the moment Jaime had gifted her with the magnificent sword. It was in that very room.
Her mind again, visited the moment. Brienne felt her pride at the quest with which Jaime had tasked her. She saw his face, so filled with belief in her. She felt the unspoken heaviness of the feelings between them. Brienne, once more, recalled how she had loved him. How she still loved him.
As if to chase the images from her thoughts, Brienne stood with a force so strong she nearly knocked over the chair upon which she had been seated. Another idea entered her awareness. Almost a premonition. She heard the words she feared the most. 'Kingslayer's Bastard.' She had tried to tell herself it would never happen, but deep down she knew that someday her child, his child, would hear those very words. It was a threat Brienne would not allow, not if she could do something about it.
Brienne stared at the heavy volume across the table. The White Book. The Book of Brothers. The record of all of the greatest knights in Westeros. Jaime was in those pages. She never wanted to open it, never wanted to look upon his story. She knew it held little of the man she had known, the man she had loved. It was a shockingly sparse account of all he had done. Brienne feared it was a record that would haunt her own child. Numbly, she pulled the book toward her and sat back down. The air left her lungs as she opened the volume to Jaime Lannister's page.
Brienne stared at it for a long moment, fighting the same tears she had wept upon learning of Jaime's death. The same longing filled her heart as when she had given birth to his son. Now, she would give his child the gift he could not. Forcing the trembling from her hand, Brienne reached for the quill that rested in the ink well. She dipped the point, and dabbed off the extra ink. This had to be perfect. With a deep breath, Brienne swallowed her weeping and penned the words to complete Jaime's story.
The strokes flew from her quill like water, the ink the teardrops she would not shed. Her words paid him homage, honored him, and painted him the hero she knew he was. She could never deny him that. He had earned an honorable remembrance. This and his son were the only gifts she could give him now, even if he had not wanted her. It was an endowment for her child. She would present to the world, a father of whom he could be proud.
Brienne paused over the final line, unsure of the sentiment she should write. She had described him in the most glowing light. If it could, the world would weigh the abomination of his sins upon his living babe. Brienne's attempt was to ensure that never happened. She had seen to it that posterity would remember Jaime's victories, and that history would forget his weaknesses. The last thing he had done was to give his life trying to save the woman for whom he had left her. His lover, the mother of his first children, his own sister. The evil monster who had wanted him dead, and had been his abuser for the whole of his life. The one who had held power over him that he could not fight. Brienne's eyes filled with tears at the thought. The one who had taken him from her.
She would not join his name with Cersei's in the remembrance of his life. Brienne would jealously hold on to him that way. This was Jaime's story, and it was hers. She had been at his side during most of the moments she described. She would stay there with him, unseen, in the pages of The White Book. It would be her life with him that the future would know, not Cersei's. With a brave sigh, Brienne's quill moved slowly across the page, and she penned his last line.
'Died protecting his Queen.' Was all she wrote.