Brienne stormed down the corridor, wanting to put as much distance between herself and Jaime as possible. She had half a mind to hunt Tyrion down and tell him that she resigned her post. Jaime Lannister had only been back in her life for one day, and already, she found herself barely able to function. Brienne didn't like losing her temper, she didn't like losing control, but whenever Jaime was around, she simply couldn't help herself. Her anger was still too raw. She hadn't had enough time to come to terms with Jaime's reappearance, and her emotions were getting the better of her.
What did Jaime mean, he had hurt her to protect her? That was the most ludicrous thing Brienne had ever heard. She didn't need protecting. Not from Jaime, not from Cersei, not from anyone. Jaime could claim all he wanted that he had kept her from going to King's Landing to protect her from Cersei, but the more likely truth was that he had kept her from going to King's Landing to protect Cersei from her.
Of course, Brienne doubted she would ever have been able to kill Cersei Lannister herself, even if she'd been given the chance. It wasn't because she felt any fondness for the Lannister queen. It was because, deep down inside, she knew what Cersei meant to Jaime – what Cersei had always meant to Jaime – and she didn't think she had it in her to wound him so deeply. There were very few people Brienne had ever truly loved – her father, Renly, Catelyn Stark and her children, and Jaime Lannister. That was it. And even after Jaime's betrayal, she still wasn't capable of hurting him. She knew it was a failing on her part, her greatest weakness, but at least she was brave enough to admit it.
Brienne was halfway to the Tower of the Hand before she realized where she was going. She stopped dead in her tracks and took a moment to take stock of herself. Her breath was coming in rapid bursts, her heart beating an uneven rhythm, and her cheeks burned with agitation. If anyone had chanced upon her just then, they would have found her all out of sorts, and she wouldn't have been able to live down the embarrassment. She was Lord Commander of the Kingsguard. She needed to appear in control at all times. To be any other way would be a disgrace to her station.
Brienne inhaled a long, slow breath, willing her body to relax. When she finally exhaled, her shoulders slumped and her heartbeat slowed, and she knew she was finally in control. She turned around and began walking slowly back toward the White Sword Tower, determined to go about her daily business just as she always did. There were letters to answer and guard assignments to schedule. She still had much to occupy her time with, even if Jaime would be taking over some of her regular duties now that he was Master of War.
It wasn't long before Brienne found herself alone in her chamber, sitting at her desk, enjoying the quiet solitude. There was a letter waiting from Winterfell, a scroll that had arrived just that morning. Brienne and Sansa often wrote to each other. Although their letters were mostly of an official nature, there was an easiness between them, a friendliness, that Brienne valued greatly. Despite the fact that she was queen, or perhaps because of it, Sansa was terribly lonely, just as lonely as Brienne, and the friendship between them had only deepened as they'd shared their profound sense of loneliness through their letters.
Of course, Brienne and Sansa had always been close in an odd sort of way. Brienne had been Sansa's sworn sword, had stood by her in the worst of times, had been all too willing to give her life for the Lady of Winterfell. But it was more than that. Sansa was alone now. Bran was King of Westeros, Jon was at the Wall – or north of the Wall, if reports were correct – and Arya was on her way to the other side of the world. Sansa had once told Brienne that her father had been fond of saying, When the snows fall and the white winds blow, the lone wolf dies but the pack survives. But now, with winter over, the pack had scattered, and the lone wolf left at Winterfell was floundering. Oh, Sansa had not faltered in her duties as Queen in the North, but she was struggling to keep her spirits up, to keep her loneliness from eating away at her day after day. Brienne knew that Tyrion wrote to Sansa every other morning – everyone knew – but even that wasn't enough, which was why Brienne wrote to her whenever she could.
Brienne picked up the letter and broke the seal. Leaning back in her chair, she unfurled the parchment and began to read:
Dear Brienne,
Although I have scarcely been queen for six months, the northern lords have already decided that I should take a husband to ensure the future of northern independence. They fear, should anything happen to me before I am able to take a husband and produce an heir, that King Bran will send an army northward to reclaim our kingdom.
As you know, I have no desire to marry again, but I have no choice but to at least consider their request. The northern lords have compiled a list of prospective suitors for my consideration. I fear I am not keen on any of my choices, but that may have more to do with my reluctance to wed than with any failing in the gentlemen themselves. I have included the list in hopes of asking you for a favor. There is no one in all of Westeros who is more knowledgeable on such matters than Lord Tyrion. I would like his opinion on each of my potential suitors, but since he was once my husband himself and the situation is a delicate one, I cannot bring myself to ask him outright. Could you, dearest Brienne, find a way to ascertain Lord Tyrion's opinion on the matter without letting him know that I requested it? I am sure you understand why I am reluctant to inquire with him directly, and I hope that you can do me this kindness as I struggle to decide the course of my future.
Sincerely,
Sansa Stark, Queen in the North
Brienne stared at the letter, a knowing smile tugging at her lips. Yes, she understood very well why Sansa was reluctant to ask Tyrion for help. Sansa was just as smitten with Tyrion as Tyrion was with Sansa, but neither one of them was willing to admit it. Tyrion refused to admit it because he felt himself unworthy of the Queen in the North, and Sansa was unwilling to admit it because she feared the northern lords would not approve of her choice. Even if Tyrion and Sansa did confess their feelings for one another, remarrying would be no easy task. Bran had given Tyrion a life sentence by making him Hand, and Sansa would face a great deal of opposition from her people if she tried to make Tyrion Lannister her husband again. And yet, that didn't stop the two of them from writing to each other every other day and secretly pining in silence.
Although Brienne knew it wasn't her place, she secretly hoped that things would work out between Sansa and Tyrion. She wanted to see Sansa happy, and she knew that Tyrion was the only man in all of Westeros who Sansa truly trusted. Sansa Stark deserved a marriage based on trust and mutual admiration, not a marriage based on duty and obligation. She had married for duty twice before. She deserved something different this time. She deserved to finally make her own choice.
Brienne moved Sansa's letter aside, finding a second piece of parchment beneath it containing the list of suitors. There were half a dozen names written in elegant letters, among them Robin Arryn and Gendry Baratheon. Brienne shook her head, already having made up her mind on both candidates. Robin Arryn was far too weak-willed to ever be Sansa Stark's consort, and Gendry Baratheon was still desperately in love with Lady Arya, though he had not once spoken her name on his frequent visits to King's Landing. Sansa deserved better than a boy who couldn't speak his own mind and a man who had already shared her sister's bed. She deserved a man of her own. She deserved an equal.
Brienne leaned forward in her chair and put down the list. Then, she opened one of the desk drawers and pulled out her own sheet of parchment. She picked up her quill, dipped it in the inkwell, and began to write.
Your Grace,
Although I am a subject of the Six Kingdoms, I am ever loyal to all those who bear the Stark name, and I will be more than happy to grant the favor you requested. It may take some time for me to make the necessary inquiries on your behalf, but as soon as I have an answer, I will send a raven straight away.
Brienne's hand stilled on the page, her letter incomplete. She wondered if she should tell Sansa about Jaime or leave it to Tyrion. There was a very good chance that Tyrion had already broken the news to Sansa in his latest letter, but Brienne knew Sansa would find it odd if she herself stayed silent on the subject. Sansa knew what had happened between Brienne and Jaime before he'd left for King's Landing, and it would likely seem strange to her if Brienne didn't at least acknowledge his reappearance.
Brienne thought for a moment before she refilled her pen and brought it down against the parchment again. She continued:
On another matter, I am not sure if Lord Tyrion has already imparted the news, but a very peculiar thing has happened here at the Red Keep. Two nights ago, Jaime Lannister suddenly appeared in the capital looking like death itself. Though we all thought him dead, apparently, he was able to escape King's Landing after the Red Keep collapsed and has been living in a small village just beyond Storm's End. Now that he has returned, Lord Tyrion has appointed him to the small council, naming him Master of War. I don't quite know what to make of it all, but I have no choice but to trust that King Bran and his Lord Hand know what they are doing. I would not forgive Ser Jaime so easily myself, but then, the decision is not mine to make. I pray to the gods that he is the man they think he is and that he will be an asset to the Six Kingdoms.
With warmest regards,
Brienne of Tarth, Lord Commander of the Kingsguard
Brienne reread the last paragraph of her letter, making sure that it was exactly what she wanted to say. Even though she could not express her emotions freely on parchment, she wanted to make certain that Sansa understood where she stood on the subject of Jaime's return. She was wary of him, and she could not bring herself to forgive him.
Determined not to overthink the matter, Brienne rolled up the scroll and quickly sealed it. Then, she committed the list of potential suitors to memory and locked it in the desk drawer, along with Sansa's letter. She didn't want anyone to know about the favor the queen had asked of her. It was a private matter, and she intended to keep it that way.
Just as Brienne was pocketing the key to the desk, there was a knock at the door. She straightened in her seat and turned her attention toward the sound. "Come in," she said in a calm, clear voice, knowing instinctually that it wasn't Jaime on the other side.
The door opened, and Podrick stepped into the room. "I'm sorry if I'm interrupting anything."
"You're not," Brienne replied. "I was just finishing up a letter to Queen Sansa." Brienne picked up the sealed scroll and held it out toward Podrick. "Will you take this to the rookery as soon as you leave here? I would like it sent immediately."
"Yes, of course," Podrick said as he closed the door behind him and crossed the room. He stopped on the opposite side of the desk and took the scroll from Brienne.
"Now," she said, inching her chin just a little higher, "what is it that you've come about?"
"King Bran has requested your presence in his chambers. He said he wanted to have a private word with you."
Every muscle in Brienne's body tensed. Although there was nothing unusual about Bran requesting her presence for a private audience, she knew that, this time at least, the conversation wasn't going to be about security measures or military plans, it was going to be about Jaime Lannister. She was certain of it.
Brienne inhaled a steadying breath before pushing her chair away from the desk and rising. "I shall head to his chamber anon."
"Very good, my lady."
Brienne walked around the desk, expecting Podrick to follow her to the door, but he didn't move.
Brienne suddenly stopped. "Is something wrong, Pod?"
"No, my lady. Yes, my lady. I mean, nothing's wrong, I just—"
"What is it?"
"I heard what Lord Tyrion did this morning, forcing you to work with Ser Jaime. I can't imagine that was easy for you. And now, King Bran has called you to his chamber, and I'm certain he wants to talk about the new Master of War. It's just, I know where my loyalties lie, that's all, and I wanted you to know that."
Brienne's gaze softened, and she fought back the hint of a smile. If she'd ever had a little brother, she would have wanted him to be just like Podrick Payne. "I know where your loyalties lie, Podrick, and I thank you for that. Although I am none too pleased to be spending time with Jaime Lannister, it is my duty to do so, and I will suffer it as I must. I know you are concerned for me, but you needn't be. I am fine, and more than capable of taking care of myself."
"Oh, yes, I know. I hadn't meant to imply that you couldn't. I just wanted you to know that I understand, that's all."
Despite her determination to project an air of detachment, Brienne offered Podrick a reassuring smile. "I know that, Pod. Thank you. Now," she said, nodding toward the scroll in his hand, "take that to the rookery and return to your duties, and I will report to the king."
"Yes, my lady." Podrick bowed his head and slipped from the room.
Brienne followed after him, on her way to face King Bran the Broken.