The Last Stag • Game of Thrones

39.

Chapter Thirty-Nine.
Homecoming

Renfri ran through the castle, coat be damned, wearing only her armored shirt and pants, boots half-laced, hair untied, curls bouncing freely. 

He's here. What is he doing here? There's no way it's actually him.

She burst into the quiet great chamber, every eye turning to her.

Green eyes met gold.

He's actually here.

Resisting the urge to run to her uncle, Renfri exchanged a nervous look with him before sinking into her seat beside Sansa.

Queen Daenerys cleared her throat.

"As I was saying." She raised her eyebrows. "When I was a child, my brother would tell me a bedtime story. About the man who murdered our father. Who stabbed him in the back, and cut his throat. Who sat down on the Iron Throne and watched as his blood poured onto the floor."

Jaime looked down. He stood in the center of the room, surrounded on all sides by Northmen. The small council members sat at the table to his left - Brienne, Ser Davos, Lyanna Mormont, Elon Estermont. At the head table, directly in front of him, sat the leaders.  Jon on the opposite end of the table, Tyrion sitting between him and Daenerys. Sansa to Renfri's left. 

"He told me other stories as well." Daenerys's voice was like stone. "About all the things we would do to that man once we took back the Seven Kingdoms and had him in our grasp. Your sister pledged to send her army north."

Be careful, you idiot, Renfri thought, her knee bouncing anxiously.

"She did." Jaime nodded sullenly. 

"I don't see an army." Daenerys tilted her head. "I see one man. With one hand. It appears your sister lied to me."

Renfri and Jaime exchanged a look. 

"She lied to me as well." He nodded. "She never had any intention of sending her army north. She has Euron Greyjoy's fleet and twenty thousand fresh troops. The Golden Company from Essos. Even if we defeat the dead, she'll have more than enough to destroy the survivors."

"We?" Daenerys knitted her brow. 

"I promised to fight for the living." Jaime raised his chin. "I intend to keep that promise."

"Your grace," Tyrion started. "I know my brother-"

"Like you knew your sister?" Daenerys' eyes snapped to him.

Tyrion fell quiet.

"Your grace." Renfri stood up, her chair shrieking against the tile floor. "If I may?"

Daenerys looked to her, and she felt Sansa stiffen beside her. The Queen's eyes said you may not, but she audibly said nothing.

"My Uncle Jaime may have had poor intentions in the past." She pursed her lips. "But he is a good man."

"A good man does not stab an elderly one in the back." Daenerys glared at her.

"No. But neither does a weak one." Renfri tilted her head, moving around the table. "Jaime Lannister is the only reason that I'm still alive. The only reason that you have a fourth of your army, that you can feed your forces. The night Cersei killed my son, it was Jaime who sat beside me while I delivered, giving me the strength to continue. When I escaped, Jaime found me out before we ever left King's Landing, and chose to keep my secret so that I may live on."