Not Just a Kingslayer

Chapter 25

News spreads quickly in the Red Keep, and such it was with this. Thus Daena wasn't worried when Jaime did not return to her that night.

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A few days had passed and nobody had seen the Queen Regent but her brother and her servants. They were afraid to say too much but the word was that she just stayed in her room crying all day and Ser Jaime was the only thing that could make her stop.

Daena and Margaery were with Tommen and Ser Pounce in the courtyard one day, when a sudden silence came over everybody. They turned around to see Cersei standing there, all in black. Her eyes were fixed on Tommen and it seemed as though she could hardly bear to blink. The shadow of a smile crossed her face. She took a step closer. "Tommen," she called, almost timidly. "Might I join you?"

"Of course!" He grinned lopsidedly, before looking askance at Daena and Margaery. "Unless you mind?"

The eyes of both women widened instantly as they each rushed to agree. Margaery stepped in first. "Of course we don't mind, my king." She turned to Cersei then. "Your Grace, I'm truly sorry for your loss, and I hope that His Grace and I never have to experience such grief as you are feeling now. I never met Myrcella, and I wish that I had, for I've heard only good things about her. But once again, I'm very sorry, and if there's anything I can do, you need only ask it." Her eyes were wide with sincerity, and Daena noticed that she tactfully avoided mentioning the father, as he was supposedly dead.

She stepped forward as well, nearly placing a hand on Cersei's shoulder before she caught herself and pulled it away. "Yes, Your Grace, I'm so sorry as well. I never met Myrcella either but Jaime has told me about her and she sounded like a wonderful girl." She winced slightly, feeling that girl was probably not the right word for this situation. "As Margaery said, if there's anything I can do to help, please don't hesitate to ask."

Cersei couldn't look either of them in the eye. She said "thank you," and attempted a tremulous smile. Then she turned towards Tommen. To Daena's and Margaery's surprise, however, her smile didn't widen. Only her eyes. They looked confusedly at each other before looking back at the mother and her child. Then Daena's eyes widened as well. "She's afraid," she whispered, turning back to find Margaery's eyes as wide as her own.

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Jaime was standing guard when Brienne walked right in front of him, as though in a daze. "Brienne," he said sharply, but she didn't turn, just looked at the letter clutched in her hand. He grinned. "Wench!" For that he was awarded with her familiar scowl. But something wasn't right. She didn't look as angry as usual. The smile faded from his face. "Brienne. Are you alright?"

She shook her head sharply as though to rid something from her mind. "What? Of course I'm alright. I'm sorry for your loss, Ser Jaime." Her blue eyes were wide with solemnity, but they always were, unless slitted in suspicion. He had had his fair share of both.

"We're back to Ser Jaime now? Brienne, really. What's wrong?"

Her eyes flitted quickly to the scroll in her hand before she replied. "Nothing."

But he wasn't listening, already grabbing the tiny parchment. He held it out of her reach as he read, some of Tywin's lessons finally paying off. "Lord Selywn Tarth is dead." His eyes widened. "Brienne, why would you hide this from me?"

A single tear was rolling down her cheek. "You have your own things to worry about."

His eyes locked on hers. "Brienne, I don't worry. I care. Don't you think I care about you?"

"Why would you?"

"Why wouldn't I?" His arms wrapped around her as she sobbed into his shoulder.

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Petyr Baelish was a patient man, but he was running out of patience.

He had waited for his Cat to look at him the way he looked at her.

He had waited for his Cat to forget her northern boy.

He had waited for his Cat's other northern man to die.

He had waited for Sansa Stark as the city fell to chaos.

He had waited to get rid of his wife so he could continue with his plans.

He had waited for Daena to fall in love with him.

He was done waiting. He was done biding his time. And he knew just what to do.