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The Queen
Back in her chambers on the Red Keep, her dead uncle’s words still haunt her.
Jaime is still in the riverlands, somewhere. He took Raventree and accepted Lord Blackwood’s surrender, but on his way back to Riverrun he left his tail and went off with a woman. We’ve had no further word of him. The woman may have been the Evenstar’s daughter, Lady Brienne.
With Aegon The Pretender at her doorsteps and Tommen’s hold on the throne weakened, she has a lot on her mind to give this matter the attention it deserves.
But as soon as she got rid of the Tyrells, as soon as The Pretender was defeated, and Tommen’s rightful place on the throne secured, she would see to find out what had happened to Jaime.
Vanished somewhere in the Riverlands. With a woman. Could have Jaime abandoned me ? She shakes her head as soon as the thought makes itself present in her mind. He would never leave me. I am his other half. Jaime would never abandon me. Something is preventing him from coming back to me.
Standing near her window, she looks down at the city beyond The Keep.
I will find out where he is. Once I deal with The Pretender and the Tyrells, once Tommen is secure on the throne, I will find him. He will learn about the raven I sent to him and will fall to his knees, asking my forgiveness and beating himself for almost losing me.
Cersei smiles at the thought of her twin begging for her touch, feels the warmth spreading through her body imagining Jaime mad with need for her. And once she gives him the smallest sign that she wants him, he will not be able to hold himself back any longer. He will have to have her, no matter what.
She just needs to deal with the ones on her way first.
And then she will find Jaime.
The Soldier
When Ser Dorrick Erenfort steps inside the Lord Commander’s tent, Ser Addam Marbrand sits on the chair that was once occupied by Ser Jaime Lannister.
“Any news?” Addam asks, straight to the matter at hand, not caring about formalities.
“Unfortunately not, Ser. We went further than planned, both south and north. We reached the Fairmarket as well as Ashmarker. There are no signs of Ser Jaime or the Lady of Tarth. Any news from Casterly Rock?”
Addam stands up from the chair, pacing back and forth in front of Dorrick.
“A raven has just arrived. He hasn’t been there.”
“What about King’s Landing? Perhaps he has returned to protect the Queen regent, now with the death of the little King” Dorrick says, trying to uplift Addam’s spirit.
“The Queen regent has dismissed Ser Jaime Lannister from the Kingsguard and declared him officially missing. I’m holding that in for a bit longer in hopes we get any news. Are you sure there were no bodies hanging from trees? I fear The Brotherhood Without Banners might have taken them”
“We’ve seen no bodies anywhere we went, Ser. The smallfolk seem to be certain The Brotherhood have vanished from the Riverlands. Lady Stoneheart or whatever she’s called seems to have disappeared”.
Addam sits once more, defeated.
“I’m afraid there’s nothing else we can do. I’m afraid he’s-“ his voice catches on the last word and he clears his throat before continuing “We must decide where we head to. Either to the Westerlands, to secure the hold of the Lannisters, or to King’s Landing. Let’s call a meeting and-“
Just at that moment, one of the squires, Peck, enters the Lord Commander's tent, cheeks flushed from running so fast, a letter in his hand.
“Ser Addam, Ser Dorrick. A raven has just arrived. There’s no seal, but it’s addressed to you Ser”. Peck says, the last words directed at Marbrand.
Addam takes the letter from the squire’s hand, opening it and quickly reading the words. Whatever it’s written, his eyes narrow and browns furrow before his eyes wide in what seems like shock and surprise.
Once he’s done, he takes a moment to look around the tent, staring at both Dorrick and Peck, before grabbing the candle on top of the table in front of him and burning the letter.
Once the pearchmant no longer exists, he stands up.
“Peck, call the other officers. And start getting ready, tell the other squires we must prepare to march.”
While the boy leaves the tent, Dorrick steps closer to Addam, curiosity burning inside of him.
“Where are we heading to? Casterly Rock or King’s Landing.”
“Neither.” Addam says. “We’re heading North.”
The Camp Follower
“And what are you gonna do? It’s not as if you have land and I find it hard to believe you’ll find any prospects of marriage.”
“Aye, but I won’t go North. Too cold for me.”
“Mayhaps that’s where the Kingsla- I mean, where the Lord Commander is. I heard he’s very handsome, the most handsome man in Westeros. I’d like to see for myself.”
“Oh, I do not think that will happen. The Lord Commander ran away with his love. Or at least that’s what the entire camp has been saying. When I found the army, he had been gone for several days already”.
“What did you hear?”
“A lady, they called her Lady Brienne the beauty, arrived in the middle of the night and asked to see the Lord Commander. As soon as she arrived, the Lord Commander told everyone to leave his tent, so he could be alone with her. Nobody knows what was said, but the next day he was gone, and so was two of the horses. He must have given her one of the horses so they could escape together.”
“But isn’t he a Kingsguard? They can’t marry”.
“Aye, mayhaps that’s why he ran. So he could marry her. I heard she had a sword with a lion pommel. The Lord Commander himself gave the sword to her when they first separated, as a token of his love for when he wasn’t with her and couldn’t protect her. Isn’t that romantic?”
“Aye, it is. How beautiful she must be, for the Lord Commander to leave everything behind for her.”
The Servant
After so many years serving Kings and Queens, one must learn to make yourself invisible in their presence. Which is why even though Gysella fixes the bedsheets and picks up the clothes spread around the Queen regent bedchambers, she can still hear Her Grace speaking to someone else in the adjacent room.
“It’s a pleasure to be in your presence, Your Grace. They said I might know about things that are of your interest. I swear I have told everything I know about Stannis Baratheon. I have no ties with the Golden Company or The Pretender. I do not-”
“That’s not the reason why you were brought to my presence. What we discuss here must remain confidential, as you see, it might endanger the life of someone very dear to me.”
“Of course. Whatever you need. I’ll be glad to be of help, Your Grace.”
“I heard the tale of how you lost your teeth. Is it true that my brother’s hand was responsible for that?”
“Y-yes, your grace. But I harbor no ill will against Ser Jaime Lannister. I should have thought better before offending his lady the way I did and-“
“His lady”? What did you say about me to my brother that made him so angry?”
“N-not about you, Your Grace. I would never- I… I was once betrothed to the Evenstar’s daughter, The Maid of Tarth, Your Grace. I was jesting with your brother, but he took offense with my ill timed jape. Had I known he had such strong feelings for The Maid of Tarth, I would have never-“
“Ser Robert! Take him. Take him from my sight. Tomorrow you will be on your way to the wall, Ser. I do not wish to see you in front of me again”
“Your Grace! I-“
“Take him!”
Soon the adjacent room is quiet again, with the sound of the door closing behind Ser Robert Strong and whoever was the unfortunate knight. But the silence is soon broken by the sound of a goblet of wine hitting the wall, followed by the sounds of broken glass and the angry screams of the Queen.
Gysella continues to do her work, her face giving nothing away.
“Here, eat. Oh, don’t look me with that face, be grateful for what you have on your bowl” Gysella says, sitting down on the other chair so she can enjoy her own food.
“Everyday I question why I have tied myself to you in front of the seven. Everyday” Walton mutters, mouth filled with food.
“You know very well why. Now listen, I have the most interesting thing to tell you. I was at the Queen’s chambers today, while she spoke with a man. A knight.”
“Who was it? Mayhaps it was Ser Marsel. I wonder if he’s back from the Riverlands.”
“I doubt it was Ser Marsel, the voice was nothing like his. And once you hear what I have to say, you’ll wish it was not Ser Marsel speaking to the Queen”
“Out with it then, woman. What did you hear?”
“You know how the Queen’s brother is still missing? The Queen-“
“Hm I might have heard something about the Kingslayer today on the market”
“You have? Then out with it! Tell me, what have you heard?”
“Word is that the Kingslayer ran away with a woman. A very beautiful lady. That he only went to the Riverlands because he had everything planned, to meet her there and escape his army and his duty as Kingsguard so they could marry.”
“By the seven! I wonder if it’s the same lady the knight was speaking of today.”
“What did he say?”
“The Queen asked the knight about a tale she heard, that Ser Jaime had hit him and knocked out a few teeth. The knight confirmed the truth of the tale, Waldon. He was once betrothed to the Maid of Tarth, who Ser Jaime is in love with, and once Ser Jaime found out, he lost his mind with jealousy. It must be the same lady he ran away with! Oh Waldon, I’m certain it’s the same lady. I must tell Leyla about this on the morrow! Mayhaps she’s still awake.” Gysella says, standing up and going to the door, half of her bowl untouched and forgotten on top of the table.
“Mad woman” Waldon mutters, dragging his wife’s dinner towards himself.
The Commanders
The crimson sea approaching the gates of Winterfell makes Jon Snow and Sansa Stark exchange a look, before both make their way to greet the soldiers and their commander.
“I’m the Lord Commander of the Night’s Watch. This is the Lady of Winterfell, Sansa Stark.”
“I’m Ser Addam Marbrand. We have come to your aid, Lord Commander”.
The look of surprise on both Sansa and Jon’s face is met with a curious gaze from Addam.
“We- Pardon me, Ser Addam, but how did you know we needed help?”
“I received a raven. It said that once I arrived, our Lord Commander, ser Jaime Lannister, would explain it to me. Is he not here?”
“No. The Kingslayer hasn’t been here since his last visit, when King Robert was still alive.”
Addam looks speechless for a moment, his gaze shifting from Jon to Sansa a few times.
“Is there a Lady Brienne here? She’s southerner, from storms end. Highborn. Her father is the Evenstar”
Jon Snow doesn’t notice Sansa’s sharp intake of breath beside him at the mention of some lady named Brienne.
“You and your army are the first people from the south to come. Do you have the letter with you?” Jon Snow asks.
“I… I do not have it, my Lord. It was instructed that the letter should be burned after I read it. What was written… is it true? The dead… are they…” Addam trails off, uncertain of how to ask what he wants to ask. Too afraid of the answer, even though he knows what it will be.
“It is true.” Jon looks at Sansa, and once she nods, he turns back towards Addam. “And we need every man we can get. You and your soldiers are welcome in our home, Ser Addam. The times have come where names and houses no longer matter.”
The Lady
Sansa Stark walks down the rows of men sitting and drinking in the great hall. Some of them are already past the point of drunkness.
One of them in particular, a red haired man with missing teeth, keeps shouting angrily towards the men sitting on the table with him.
If Sansa had listened to their conversation, for certain she would have recognized the people they were talking about. But because she was too far away to make out what was the subject of their drunk ramblings, she will never know.
“I’m telling you, she was hideous! A freakish thing!”
“No man jumps on a bear pit to save an ugly maid”
“Or beat the life out of another man for an ugly maid”
“He has not beat the life out of me, I lost a few teeth because of that bloody golden hand.You do not know her as I did. I was once betrothed to her, and I couldn’t marry her because-“
“Oh boy, will you tell us the Kingslayer stole your woman away? HAHAHHA. He’s so drunk. Give him more mead!”
On the other side of the room, Sansa follows the path until she’s outside the great hall and into one of the corridors that take her to what was once her father’s study.
Ser Addam Marbrand is already inside. He makes mention to stand up once she enters, but Sansa gestures for him to not bother, walking behind her desk and sitting in front of him.
“I asked you here because it’s not something I have told my brother yet, as I didn’t think it was important. I still don’t know if it is. But you asked about Lady Brienne, and since you came and brought your men to defend my home, the home of an enemy house to the Lannisters, it’s only fair I tell you the truth”
Addam leans forward. “Do you know where Lady Brienne is?”
Sansa shakes her head; she can see the disappointment on the other man’s face.
“I do not know where she is. Or even how she looks like. You see, Ser Addam, I was at the Vale, hidden away, falsely accused of murdering the King. I had no hope, at the mercy of a man with his own interests in mind. Until I received a letter. From a Lady Brienne of Tarth. The things that were written…” Sansa trails off, her eyes suddenly filling with tears. But she blinks a few times, until there’s no longer a risk of them leaking. “Suffice to say she knew a lot about me and my mother. That letter, it gave me hope, but not only that. It gave me a way of escaping the prison that was my life, a way to come back home. It’s a long story, but there were instructions for me to meet with a boy and a man, hidden among the servants in the castle. I trusted my instinct and did as I was told. And they lead me to safety and never asked for anything, just left in the night. Now I’m here. So I owe Lady Brienne my life, whoever she is”.
Addam keeps staring at Sansa, his eyes a mix of empathy and admiration.
“Do you still have that letter with you, my lady?”
“Unfortunately not. As soon as I met the two, the boy asked for the letter and destroyed it.”
They are both silent for a few moments, each lost in their own world.
It’s Sansa who speaks again.
“What’s happening, Ser Addam? Why did you ask about Lady Brienne? Why did you think Ser Jaime was here? How did you know we needed your help?”
Addam leans back on his chair, hand scratching his chin before answering Sansa’s questions.
“I am as confused as you are, my lady. I spoke the truth: I received a raven instructing me to come here. I know it was Ser Jaime’s handwriting, it’s impossible not to recognize it after he lost his right hand. Everything else I know, I learned from you and your brother. And when it comes to your other questions…” Addam shakes his head, frustrated. “Ser Jaime was coming back to Riverrun from Raventree. He had stopped to rest for the night at Pennytree when Lady Brienne arrived at the village, asking to speak with him. You see, they knew each other from before. From Robb Stark’s camp, when Ser Jaime was still a prisoner. I’m not sure how they came to become close-“
“It was my mother.” Sansa interrupts Addam, her eyes once more filling with tears. “Lady Brienne and Ser Jaime swore an oath to my mother. They would return to King’s Landing and once Ser Jaime was there, he would see to send me back to Winterfell, where I would be safe and no longer a Lannister hostage. While they were both on the road, Ser Jaime defended Lady Brienne from men who wanted to hurt her, and lost his hand because of it. He also saved her from being killed by a bear in Harrenhal, jumping on a bear pit one handed and fevered. I never thought I would say that but… Ser Jaime is a man of honor.”
Addam Marbrand looks wide eyed at Sansa, processing the information he received from the Lady of Winterfell.
“By the seven, mayhaps the rumors are right after all”
“What rumors?”
“When Lady Brienne arrived in Pennytree and asked to speak with Ser Jaime, he asked everyone to leave so they could talk by themselves. I know for a fact that at some point he asked for a maester, but he did not allow for the man to enter inside. Lady Brienne spent the night with him, and on the morrow, they both had disappeared, and two horses were missing, Jaime’s and another one. Since then, nobody has seen or heard from them but people talk. They say they ran away together. Escaped so they could marry and run away from everything. At first I did not believe it, I couldn’t see Jaime abandoning everything for love, but now… if what you told me is true… mayhaps there’s something to those rumors.”
“And do you blame them, Ser Addam? We’re about to face something that we might not survive. If that’s what happened, I’m happy for them. I hope… I hope it’s the truth. I hope they are alive somewhere. Together. Away from all of this.”
The Father
Tales from the North were still scary to listen to, and Selwyn would be lying if he said he wasn’t tired of hearing about flaming swords and dragons, creatures rising from the dead and stopped only when The Great Other was defeated.
Still, he prefers the tales of the dead than what is being said right at this moment by his lover and member of his council.
“I’m just telling you what I heard while in King’s Landing and Lannisport, Selwyn. That’s the story: Lady Brienne of Tarth and Ser Jaime Lannister ran away together so they could get married. He was so enamored with her that he gave her a Valyrian sword and the finest armor, There’s even a story that he jumped on a bear pit to save her from being killed by the animal, losing his sword hand to the creature.”
“So you’re saying that my daughter ran away with a man half the kingdom despised so she could marry him, and disappeared without a trace or care about his lord father, never to be seen again? And somehow the fact that my only daughter never wrote me to at least let me know that she is alive and well is somehow cause to celebrate and that I would be happy by hearing these news? Endrew, I sent you to the cost so you could find out any trail Brienne might have left behind now that the winter is over and spring has come, and I appreciate that you went as far as Lannisport for me, but if that was your way of easing my mind and heart, I must say you have failed”.
Selwyn stands up, walking to one of the windows on his solar. The wind is fresh with the smell of the sea. It reminds him of his little girl. Of how much she loved the waters.
“My Lords.” A servant says from the door, and Selwyn turns around. “My Lord Evenstar, there are two men who ask to speak to you. Should I tell them to return another day?”
Selwyn shakes his head, walking towards the Servant.
“I’ll speak to them in a moment. Lead them to the hearing hall. I’ll be there shortly”. The Evenstar turns towards Endrew. “We’ll speak more of this later”.
A man and a young boy, no more than six and ten, stand in front of him.
“My Lord Evenstar. It’s a pleasure to finally meet you” the man says.
“What brings you both in my presence? What are your names and what can I do to help you? I believe neither of you lives on Tarth, am I right?”
The man looks at the boy, who is holding what seems to be a sword and a letter on his hand. The boy steps forward, bowing to the Evenstar before walking closer.
“M-my L-Lord, this is for y-you” the boy stutters, before giving Selwyn both the sword and the letter.
It’s Valyrian steel, Selwyn recognizes immediately. The golden pommel in the form of a lion head. His heart clenches at the sight of it, remembering Endrew’s words.
He was so enamored with her that he gave her a Valyrian sword.
Selwyn puts the sword beside him, opening the letter the boy gave to him.
He recognizes the handwriting immediately.
My Dear Father…
Once Selwyn finishes the letter, he reads it again and again and once more after that. When he finally lifts his eyes from the pearchment on his hand, the man and the boy are still on the same place, as if no time has passed at all. But when Selwyn’s gaze meets the boy, he smiles, and the Evenstar can’t help the grin that spreads across his face in return.
“Very well. Let me arrange for you both to get some rest and then we’ll all meet for dinner on my solar. We have a lot to discuss and many arrangements to make until...until it’s time” Selwyn says, walking side by side the two. He gives the letter back to the boy, and he proceeds to tear it apart carefully, before giving the small pieces back to Selwyn. The Evenstar stops by one of the fireplaces, putting what was once a letter to burn on the fire. He then turns towards the man and the boy beside him. “I believe you both will like Tarth very much. It is, after all, from now on, the place you will call home.”
The Brother
A long time ago - on what seemed to be another life -, when he was freed by his brother from certain death by the hands of his lord father and a woman he once called sister, he would never imagine to be back on the place he grew up, as the Lord of the Rock, and holding the hand of the woman who once despised him while she waits for The Stranger to take her.
Cersei looks old and fragile, her beauty all but faded from years of alcohol abuse and the obsession with a twin long lost.
“‘Queen you shall be… until there comes another, younger and more beautiful, to cast you down and take all you hold dear. And when your tears have drowned you... the Valonqar shall wrap his hands around your pale white throat and choke the life from you’” Cersei whispers on a raspy voice. Tyrion lifts his eyes from their joined hands, looking at her then, confused by her words. “I always thought it was you. That you hated me so much that you would kill me, as you killed mother and father. But now… now I understand. Jaime… He left me. Abandoned me... For another. Beautiful, they said. That she was beautiful. I do not… I do not remember how she looked like. But she must have been. Younger and more beautiful than me. And since he left me… my other half… I can’t breath. Since he left, I can’t breath. I can’t…”
Her breathing sounds staggered, her eyes unfocused, and soon the room becomes silent.
Cersei is gone.
And he’s alone.
Tyrion looks up from the papers in front of him, his desk filled with pearchments concerning the golden mine and the taxes that need to be recalculated if they want Lannisport to thrive for another year.
The servant on his door looks almost embarrassed from disturbing him.
“I’m sorry my Lord. But there’s someone who wishes to see you. A young man.”
“Does he have a name?”
“Gal, my lord.”
Tyrion sighs. “Probably someone to complain about the fishmarket again. I swear father is rolling on his grave laughing at me for wishing to become Lord of this bloody rock. Bring him here, but bring me some wine first. I can’t do this while I’m sober”.
When the man steps inside, Tyrion drops the goblet of wine he has been holding on the floor. He feels his heart freezing inside his chest, his muscles contracting from shock
He’s seeing a ghost.
“By the seven…” he whispers, staring at the man in front of him.
Tall, golden skin, his lean body still shows the strength of his defined muscles. His curly golden hair almost reaches his shoulders, the sharp jawline covered with a light golden beard. His smirk is sharp, and his eye… they have the wrong color.
Tyrion let goes of the breath he has been holding for far too long.
“Pardon me, for a moment I thought… you just reminded me of someone I once knew. Please take a sit”.
The man walks towards the offered chair with a grace and confidence that unsettles Tyrion once more.
“How can I help you?” Tyrion asks, masking his surprise and unease at the man. By his clothes, he’s clearly highborn.
The man grabs something from his pocket and then drops it on the table, sliding it towards Tyrion.
A letter.
He grabs it, opening and gazing at the man once more, before focusing on the words in front of him.
Dear Brother…
Tyrion sharp intake of breath is loud in the room, and he lifts his eyes once more to the man. He’s not looking in his direction, but he seems to sense Tyrion’s gaze on him, lifting his eyes and holding contact until Tyrion can’t take it anymore, dropping his eyes to the letter once more.
Dear Brother…
Once Tyrion finishes, he folds the pearchement and places it on the table, staring at the man in front of him, mouth open, eyes wide.
The man smirks. “There was a Sword I was supposed to show you as well. But they took it from me before I entered.”
His voice… Tyrion thinks, not believing in what his eyes are seeing.
“Widow’s Wail” Tyrion whispers.
“Widow’s Wail” the man confirms, nodding. He grabs the letter, standing and walking towards the fireplace burning at the corner of the study, putting it on the fire before Tyrion has any chance of reacting. He stands there, his back to Tyrion.
“I thought… after so long, I thought…” for the first time in his life, Tyrion has no words to finish the sentence.
“Why don’t we start over again?” The man says, turning towards Tyrion. His lips curl in a smile, a smile Tyrion thought he would never see directed at him again, a smile filled with affection. Sapphire blue eyes sparkle with the light of the fire behind him. “Thank you for receiving me. I’m Galladon. It’s a pleasure to finally be here, my Lord. Or should I call you uncle?”
[Two hundred years later]
The Girl
“For the last time, Miss Parsin! Your sisters are all downstairs, ready to go! The soldiers are probably already in town.”
“Let me just finish this chapter? Please Miss Fletcher. They are about to meet at Pennytree”
“You have read this book a thousand times already, you and I know what happens once they meet at Pennytree and after. You come back to your reading when we arrive. Rush, rush! Let’s go.”
Madeleine Parsin scowls, placing her book on her pillow, marked carefully with a dried flower put in between the pages she last read and the next one she’ll read once she gets home.
Madeleine looks once more at the book cover, sighing dramatically before rushing down the stairs.
On top of her pillow, lays a copy of one of her favorite romance novels:
Oathkeepers
Present Day - King’s Landing Art Gallery - Elloise: A tale of love between The Kingslayer & The Maid of Tarth.
Brienne stares at the painting in front of her, mesmerized.
“Like what you see, huh?”
She startles, looking at the man standing beside her.
She doesn’t think she has ever seen a man so incredibly handsome before.
“It is very… very beautiful” she says, the blush already spreading through her cheeks and down her neck.
“Is this one your favorites?” He asks, turning his gaze towards her. Green eyes. Like emerald.
“Huh…” she drops her gaze, looking towards the painting again. A beautiful knight, with the historic kingsguard uniform, riding a horse and leaning down towards a woman walking beside him. The woman wears blue armor, and carries a sword with a lion pommel. “Yeah. I mean, the way they are looking at each other. Especially The Kingslayer, it’s just… it captures perfectly the essence of their love. And it’s the first time I’ve seen The Maid of Tarth painted like that. The scar on her face is just... She’s usually painted as this surreal beautiful woman but there are records that prove that she wasn’t so pretty so… yeah, it’s my favorite”. She finishes quickly once she realizes she’s rambling.
Brienne doesn’t notice the smile on Jaime’s face.
They both stay silent for a few minutes, just staring at the art in front of them.
“You know, you look like her” Jaime says.
Brienne flinches even though she tries her best not to, but it’s unavoidable.
“Fuck! No, I… shit, I didn’t mean it like that” he says quickly, but she avoids his gaze, staring ahead as if she’s still focused solely on the painting.
“It’s alright.” She mutters, hoping he will just vanish from her side and leave her be. Hoping he will get tired of mocking her.
“No, I… fuck, I’m not good at this. Here, let’s start again. Hi, I’m Jaime” and she sees from the corner of her eye that he’s waiting for her to grab his hand and shake it.
His left hand.
(For the first time she notices he’s using a prosthetic one on his right side).
Something about his earnest expression and the way he’s looking at her, expectant and open, makes her give in, grabbing his hand.
“I’m Brienne.” She answers
“Brienne…” he repeats, as if testing the way her name rolls on his tongue. “I like it. Can I show you my favorite one?”
Even before she nods, he’s already leading her through the gallery, walking towards the area that is reserved for VIP buyers.
“Hmm, Jaime… That area is reserved”
“It’s alright, I have a pass”. He says.
Indeed, the guard standing close to the door doesn’t even blink when they both pass by him and enter the VIP area.
He leads her to a painting on the right corner.
The Kingslayer is leaning towards The Maid of Tarth, kissing her cheek and holding her to his body. Both his golden hand and the flesh one are holding her face and head, convening how much he wants to have her close. Her right arm is draped around his neck, while her left hand is holding the golden sword with the lion pommel. The Kingslayer’s white cloak is dirty, and seems to be covering them both. The Maid of Tarth is crying golden tears.
“This is… this is astonishing”. Brienne mutters, not believing in what she’s seeing with her own eyes. “I…don’t have words to describe it”
Jaime is standing close to her, and she feels more than sees him nodding his head.
“I call it The Kiss ” Jaime mutters.
There’s something about the way he says those words... suddenly the truth seems to reveal itself in Brienne’s mind.
She turns towards him with wide eyes.
“You’re Elloise!” She says, louder than she meant to.
“Shhhhhh” Jaime says, looking around them. Nobody seems to pay them any mind.
“Sorry” Brienne whispers, embarrassed, cheeks red. “I… I can’t believe it’s you. I thought you were a woman!” she whispers again.
“That’s what I want everyone to believe” he whispers back.
“What if I had said something bad about you? Like, what if I had said… I don’t know, that I think you’re too full of yourself with this whole thing about never revealing your face or the secrecy? What if I had said your art is shit?”
“We can stop whispering now” Jaime says on his normal tone.
“Oh, right”
“And if you had said all those things, I would have told you once you finished that it was about me you were talking about” he says, grinning at her.
“Very funny”
“Is that what you think of me?” Jaime asks, cocking his head to the side.
“You know it’s not” Brienne turns towards the painting again. The kiss. There’s something about that painting that makes her heart clench. As if she can’t handle how intense and powerful their love was. As if she is witnessing something she shouldn’t. But she can’t look away.
“I’m sorry. About what I said earlier” Jaime tells her.
“It’s alright. I meant it. I… I know how I look like” she doesn’t look at him while telling him that. There’s no point in seeing the pity in his eyes.
“I don’t think you know, Brienne”
She risks a look in his direction and she doesn’t know what to think of the way he’s looking at her.
Then a thought crosses her mind.
“J-Jaime… I mean, I really like your work, I think you’re incredibly talented, but I… I can’t buy any of this… I don’t have the money to-“
“Hey, that’s not… that’s not what this is about”. He tells her. She releases a breath, smiling embarrassed. He chuckles. “Fuck, I’m really shitty at his. I’m gonna go straight to the point: I always come by on the last day of exhibition because I like to see the paintings hanging on the walls and people admiring my work. My brother calls me a narcissist because of it, which I disagree. I saw you around and at first I thought “holy fuck it’s her” because you looked like the way I imagine The Maid of Tarth would be, and then I approached you and you’re not exactly like her, although still very close, but you seem like a very nice person and you’re funny and while I’m still impressed with how similar you are with my vision of her, it’s not the only reason why I want to ask you out for a coffee or a drink. Or maybe dinner? Unless you don’t want to, in which case I completely understand and I will leave you to appreciate the last day of exhibition on your own”.
Brienne blinks fast, trying to process everything he said.
“I… Dinner sounds good” she says, and the smile he gives her is enough to make her not regret her answer.