To guarantee the safety of the woman he loved, Brienne of Tarth, Jaime Lannister dragged his sister to her death in the collapse of the Red Keep, sacrificing his own life in the process. Now, Jaime must ensure Brienne's future, from beyond the grave...
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Brienne crossed the busy courtyard, preoccupied with where her next conversation might lead. In her thoughts she had practiced a hundred scenarios, each sounding more insane than the last. She knew there was no use to delay this meeting any longer. Her trembling fingers clutched a long leather-clad parcel. It had been a week since Eyan's return. Seven short busy days since they had been betrothed. Only a sennight had passed since Jaime had come to her in the night, and taken form one last time. Her heart was still certain of the path she chose for this life. No doubts plagued her mind when she thought of becoming Eyan's wife. Brienne had only ever been as happy as she felt now once in her life, during the time she and Jaime had spent as lovers. With his approval, and his oath to her still echoing sweetly in her mind, Brienne was certain she and Eyan would know a lifetime of blessed joy. There was only one thing which still weighed upon her thoughts.
Since it appeared on the very night Jaime had taken form and pledged his eternal love to her Brienne kept his great sword, Widow's Wail, tucked in secrecy. It was a treasure she wished to share with no one, but was soon ashamed of her selfishness. She had not whispered a word of its return to anyone, not even Eyan. Brienne knew not how she would explain such an extraordinary occurrence. Her first thought was to guard it jealously, the only connection she still had to Jaime. Each time she found herself alone, Brienne took the glorious weapon from its hiding place, and felt Jaime's own power surge through its steel. What surprised her was that feeling did not subside once Widows Wail was again wrapped and concealed. At last Brienne realized all Jaime had told her was true, he was always with her. She also knew that his blade was too great a gift to be buried away in a drawer.
Even now, Jaime followed close on her heels, but a slight whips of wind at her back. He had watched in confusion as she gathered up Widows Wail and marched from her chambers with a resolute posture. Understanding soon dawned when Jaime realized the direction that Brienne's path took that morning. Although he knew the propriety of what she surely had planned, he hoped with all of his heart the person whom she sought would not need what she was about to offer.
When finally Brienne reached her destination, she summoned all of her courage and knocked purposefully upon the door. The shadow of a brave smile hovered over her features, in sharp contrast to the racing of her heart. She could feel Jaime standing at her side, bolstering her determination. She knew he would be true to the vow he had sworn to her. Jaime would never leave her again
"Enter." Lord Tyrion's voice called from the other side.
Swallowing hard, Brienne turned the latch of the door, and stepped into the solar of The Hand of The King. "My Lord." She forced respectful formality to her voice, though her first instinct was a timid whisper. "If I might have a moment of your time?" She inquired hopefully.
Tyrion's face brightened at Brienne's arrival. "Ah. Lord Commander. Do come in." He smiled, laying down his quill and springing from his chair, glad for the distraction. "To what do I owe this pleasure? I should think you would be too busy planning your wedding to visit my lonely quarters." He joked.
