The next morning dawned far too early for Brienne. She'd had a dreadful night, tossing and turning and thinking about Jaime until the sun had come shining through her window. She'd barely slept, and as she made her way to the small council chamber, she struggled to keep her eyes open.
Late in the night, buried beneath the covers, Brienne had cried her heart out. She'd cried out her anger and her despair, and even her joy. Because although she was furiously angry with Jaime for letting her believe that he was dead, there was still a part of her that was overjoyed that he was alive. Just the day before, she had thought she would never see his face again, never hear his voice, never get lost in his eyes. But now, none of that was true. She had seen his face, heard his voice, lost herself in him the moment their eyes had met. And she was grateful for all of it, even if she had no desire to ever see him again. After everything that had happened between them, everything Jaime had done, just knowing that he was alive was enough for Brienne, even if their paths never crossed again.
Of course, Brienne knew that Tyrion had commanded Jaime to stay at the Red Keep, but she hoped that didn't mean she would have to see him. The last Brienne had heard, Jaime had been locked away in the Tower of the Hand with a detachment of guards at his chamber door, and she secretly hoped that he was still there.
As Brienne approached the small council chamber, she heard voices chatting within, but she paid no mind to what they were saying. It sounded very much like Davos and Bronn were arguing again, which was certainly nothing new. Ser Davos Seaworth was the epitome of honor and duty, and despite all his lofty titles, Ser Bronn of the Blackwater was the exact opposite. Sometimes, it was fun to watch them argue, but most of the time, it just made small council meetings drag on longer than was strictly necessary.
Brienne entered the room to find Davos, Bronn, and Samwell Tarly already sitting around the long table waiting for Lord Tyrion. And next to Bronn, in Brienne's usual seat, she found an unexpected guest . . . Jaime Lannister.
Brienne's feet faltered, and she stopped halfway to the table as the room fell silent around her. She stared at Jaime, and he stared right back, though there was no bravado in his gaze. He looked as miserable as she felt. His eyes were red-rimmed, and his face was pale. He looked much worse than he had the day before, and Brienne wasn't sure if it was because he hadn't slept or because he'd spent the night drinking. Either way, she didn't feel the least bit sorry for him.
Had Jaime been sitting anywhere else but in her chair, Brienne wouldn't have said anything. But she was proud of the place she had earned at the small council table, and she wasn't going to let anyone take it away from her, especially not Jaime Lannister.
"What is he doing here?" Brienne asked, her eyes locked on Jaime.
Bronn pushed his chair away from the table and casually leaned back to gaze up at Brienne. "He's on the small council now. He's the new Master of War."
Brienne's eyes darted to Bronn. There was no mistaking the shit-eating grin on his face. He'd meant it, every single word.
"You can't be serious," Brienne replied, barely able to catch her breath.
"Oh, I'm more than serious. Seems his brother thinks he'd be a good fit for the title, and as you and I well know, there's no arguing with Tyrion when he gets something like this stuck up his ass."
Brienne's blood heated in her veins, and she could feel her cheeks turning red. Although Jaime Lannister was brother to the Hand of the King, that didn't mean he belonged on the small council. During the battle for King's Landing, Jaime had been a traitor to the cause. He'd turned on Daenerys Targaryen and the northern forces at the last possible moment. He had consorted with the enemy, tried to help Cersei escape, and then he'd returned to King's Landing to be rewarded by his brother? It wasn't fair, and Brienne had half a mind to tell Tyrion just that.
"But we've done just fine without a Master of War for six months," Brienne said, thinking it was the safest, most rational thing she could say. "Why do we need one now?"
"Because I said so," Tyrion replied as he entered the room behind her.
Brienne didn't even bother to turn around and look at Tyrion. She was afraid he would see the anger in her eyes. Instead, she fixed her gaze on the empty chair at the head of the table, waiting for him to reach it. She inhaled a steadying breath and willed her emotions under control. By the time Tyrion climbed up into his chair, her true feelings were safely hidden behind an air of absolute calm.
"I beg your pardon, Lord Hand," Brienne said, her tone even, "but for the past six months, I have been your advisor on military matters, and I believe I have done the job quite well."
"And indeed, you have," Tyrion answered, meeting her gaze without any resentment or malice, "but you are Lord Commander of the Kingsguard, and it is wrong for you to have to do twice the work of everyone else. My brother is a seasoned military veteran, and he is more than capable of being Master of War."
"Yes, my lord, but—"
Tyrion held up a hand, stopping her before she could go any further. "I understand your concerns, Lord Commander, and your objections. And they are all duly noted. But I have made up my mind on the matter, and King Bran has approved the appointment, so as of this morning, Ser Jaime is now a member of the small council."
Brienne wanted to protest but knew it would be pointless. Tyrion had made his decision, and nothing she did or said was going to change his mind.
For one irrational moment, Brienne was tempted to resign her post, to give up her position on the small council and return to Winterfell to serve Queen Sansa, but she didn't want to give Tyrion or Jaime the satisfaction of seeing her turn tail and run. Although Jaime's presence on the small council made Brienne highly uncomfortable, she was too strong to let him chase her away. She had worked hard to become Lord Commander of the Kingsguard, and she refused to give it up for anyone.
Brienne turned away from Tyrion, being careful not to look at Jaime again. She considered asking him to vacate her seat but knew her request would only be met with derisive laughter from Bronn. So instead, she turned to her right and pulled back the chair next to Sam, sitting down and keeping her eyes on the head of the table, determined not to look at Jaime no matter how sorely she was tempted.
Tyrion cleared his throat and finally began the meeting.
After nearly six months of planning, work was about to begin on the sewer system that Tyrion had proposed during their very first council meeting. Supplies were being brought in from all over the realm, and even from across the Narrow Sea, to aid in the construction. Although the city's food stores were still low, provisions were also being imported from beyond the capital to help shore up their reserves. Feeding the people of King's Landing seemed to be a never-ending battle, but somehow, the small council was managing to keep people fed, even if their bellies weren't always full.
There was some arguing between Bronn and Davos regarding the royal navy, but Brienne only barely listened. Even though she hadn't looked at Jaime since she'd first entered the room, she had felt his eyes upon her the whole time. She wondered if it had been his idea to join the small council or if Tyrion had arranged it. Brienne had never thought of Jaime as a particularly ambitious man. He'd always been more concerned with protecting those he loved than with his own glory, so she was fairly certain it had been Tyrion's idea to make him Master of War. Brienne wondered if Jaime hated it just as much as she did.
Unable to fight her curiosity any longer, Brienne's gaze moved to Jaime. The instant she turned her eyes in his direction, he looked away.
Brienne examined Jaime from across the table. Although he was sitting dutifully in his seat – her seat – watching Tyrion, his shoulders were slumped and he looked like he wanted to be anywhere else in the world at that moment but the small council chamber. Brienne hadn't noticed it the day before, but Jaime had lost considerable weight since she'd last seen him, and he didn't look at all well. He looked as if he'd been starved and was in need of a hearty meal and some fresh air. He looked like he could use a friend.
Brienne bit the inside of her lip and looked at Tyrion again, hating herself for having even a single tender thought for the man who had broken her heart and lied about being dead for six long months. He hadn't even spoken a word to her that morning, and already, she was in danger of falling for his charms. She silently swore to herself, then and there, that she would never let that happen again.
Brienne did her best to focus her attention on the meeting, but the voices around her just seemed to bleed into each other as she tried to ignore the man sitting across from her. She didn't feel his eyes upon her again, but she was ever conscious of his presence in the room. It was as if she could feel her heart beating in time with his, and it was driving her just a little bit mad.
"Lord Commander."
Brienne heard someone call to her, and it took her a moment to realize who it was. She blinked the confusion from her eyes and refocused her attention on Tyrion. "Yes, Lord Hand?"
"Since our new Master of War has been away from King's Landing for so long and is not familiar with what has occurred in his absence, after we are done here, I would like you to meet privately with him and apprise him of the current state of our military affairs."
"I beg your pardon, my lord?"
"That really isn't necessary," Jaime interjected, speaking for the first time that morning.
Brienne resisted the urge to look at him, keeping her eyes on Tyrion instead.
But Tyrion turned away from her to look at Jaime. "I think it is quite necessary. No one knows the intricacies of our military affairs better than Lady Brienne."
"I'd wager you know them just as well," Jaime countered, obviously not wanting to be alone with her any more than she wanted to be alone with him.
"Perhaps. Perhaps not," Tyrion said with a shrug. "Either way, I have better things to do with my time than train you in your new position. Since Lady Brienne was acting Master of War before you arrived, she is more than qualified to train you. I leave the job to her, and that is final."
Brienne cast a sidelong glance at Jaime. He looked just as annoyed as she felt. Even though she was certain there was very little they could agree on anymore, she was sure they could both agree that Tyrion was being a manipulative ass.
"Lady Brienne," Tyrion said, drawing her eyes back to him, "do you have any further objections?"
Brienne opened her mouth to protest, but Tyrion didn't give her a chance to reply.
"You don't?" he said, answering the question for her. "Well, that's wonderful. In that case, this meeting is adjourned."
Tyrion pushed his chair away from the table and stood, forcing the rest of the small council members to stand as well.
"Oh, and just to make things easier," Tyrion said as an afterthought, still looking at Brienne, "I took the liberty of having the afternoon meal served in your quarters so that you and Jaime can work through lunch undisturbed."
The blood rushed to Brienne's cheeks, and Ser Bronn laughed at her misfortune. Tyrion, however, didn't say another word. He just turned and left the small council chamber.
"Well, that's one way to get the two of you together, isn't it?" Bronn said.
Brienne skewered him with her eyes, but it only made him laugh harder.
"Just don't hit him so hard next time," Bronn advised. "Look at him." He nodded toward Jaime. "There's hardly anything left of him. You just might break him in two."
Bronn gave Brienne a knowing look before turning around and ambling out of the room, leaving her and Jaime alone with Davos and Sam
Sam cleared his throat, the sound ending on an awkward little laugh. "Well, Ser Jaime, now that you are the new Master of War, if there is anything you need, please, don't hesitate to ask. I'm sure I won't be as much help as Lady Brienne, but I will do all I can."
Jaime nodded in Sam's direction but didn't say anything in reply.
"All right then," Sam said, "I'll be in my chambers if you need me." He glanced at Brienne, bobbing his head in a courteous gesture before scurrying from the room.
"Ser Jaime," Davos said, "I know this may not feel like the right time, but someone should welcome you to the small council. Although you and I have not always fought on the same side, you are an accomplished soldier, and I, for one, welcome your experience and expertise. Gods know, the Six Kingdoms are in such a sorry state, we can use all the help we can get."
"Thank you, Ser Davos," Jaime replied. "I shall endeavor to serve the realm as best I can."
Davos cast a quick glance at Brienne, offering her a reassuring smile before excusing himself and leaving the room.
The chamber was deathly quiet as Brienne and Jaime stood on opposite sides of the table, refusing to look at each other. Brienne knew she was acting like a scorned woman, letting her emotions get the best of her, but she couldn't quite help herself. She hadn't asked to work with Jaime Lannister. In fact, after their encounter the day before, she had hoped never to see him again. But now, they were being thrown together, whether they liked it or not, and she had no choice but to face him.
Brienne turned and looked at Jaime again. She found him staring at the floor, looking very much defeated, but she refused to feel the least bit sorry for him. Unlike her, he had earned his punishment, and she would not pity him.
Jaime must have felt her watching him because he slowly raised his head and met her gaze. Brienne's heart skipped a beat the instant their eyes met, and she forced herself not to react. She didn't want to give Jaime the satisfaction of knowing that he affected her in any way.
"Brienne, you must know that—"
"Lord Tyrion has commanded us to meet in my quarters to discuss military affairs," she said, cutting him off. "It is our duty to do as the Hand of the King has instructed. Are you coming? Or are you planning to just stand there all day feeling sorry for yourself?"
"No, I'll come," Jaime said. "After all, what choice do I have? It seems Tyrion is determined to make something happen that simply cannot happen."
Brienne knew Jaime was right. And suddenly, she started to question everything Tyrion had ever done for her, including appointing her Lord Commander of the Kingsguard. Tyrion had to have known, or at least hoped, that Jaime would one day return, and no doubt, he had appointed her to the small council just to put her in Jaime's path. Brienne hated being manipulated. Men had been trying to manipulate her in one way or another her entire life. The only saving grace in this sad little scenario was that she wasn't the only one Tyrion was trying to manipulate. He was trying to manipulate Jaime as well.
"I'm sure your brother will learn, sooner rather than later, that this scheme of his isn't going to work," Brienne replied. "In the meantime, we have no choice but to do as we're told. Unless, of course, you are willing to resign your post as Master of War and leave King's Landing."
"If I could, I would. But Tyrion is determined to keep me here for the time being, and I have little choice in the matter. Besides, I have nowhere else to go."
Jaime looked like a dog that had been starved and mistreated. He looked like all he needed, all he wanted, was for someone to love him. But Brienne refused to offer him any comfort. She knew he wasn't acting, knew that he truly felt remorseful for everything he had done, but it was all too little, too late. Jaime had already had his chance with her, and he'd thrown it all away for Cersei.
Brienne didn't even offer Jaime a reply. She just turned around and headed toward the door, listening as he fell into step behind her.