A Sapphire in the Snow

Chapter 1

Brienne walked purposefully through the passageways of the Red Keep. Her footsteps echoed off the newly chiseled marble, and recently quarried stones. She often marveled at how quickly the castle had been repaired after the destruction of the city. It had been almost a year since the Dragon Queen had burned Kings Landing. A year since Daenarys Targaryen had ravaged the royal fortress. A year since Jaime had die...

No! She forced her mind to grind to a halt. She would not think of him. She had said goodbye to Jaime Lannister months ago when she finished his page in the White Book. As she closed the cover of the aged volume, she forced that chapter in her life to come to an end. Even as she swore to leave him in her past, and as practical as she prided herself on being, there were still times when the pain he had left her would seep unbidden to the surface and render her nearly unable to breath. Last night had been one of those times. She had slept little, finding the quiet still darkness an unwelcome burden, as she fought to keep thoughts of Jaime from her mind. Brienne had spent the dark hours forcing her chest to rise and fall. Sucking in the night air pushed down the lump in her throat and filled the hole in her heart. She willed her mind to think of nothing as she paced, and clung desperately to the small shreds of dignity he had left her. Her fists balled tightly against her anger, her chest heaving for calm, Brienne spent another long dark chasm of night time fighting to keep herself from sinking into anguished misery. Racked with the memory of him, her heart was a hollow empty pit in her chest. Her very skin mocked her for the knowing of him that it remembered. Fighting the bitter despair that she knew would come, she battled the tears that stung her eyes. She had cried enough.

At last in the dwindling hours of the morning, sleep had finally claimed Brienne. Her precious rest had not lasted long. She awoke as the sun rose, gasping and yearning for him. She had dreamed again of Jaime. He had visited Brienne in her sleep many times since he left Winterfell. In the darkness the visions came, as clear as the nights they had spent together and the passion they had shared. As if he were there with her, she saw the depths of his emerald eyes, felt the strength of his arms around her, and tasted the sweetness of his kiss. Each time the dreams came Brienne relived once more the glorious love she thought they had found, and the heartache of waking to find him gone as she jolted from her sleep, her body still tingling with the memory of him. She feared she would never truly be able to live a life without him.

It had been hard at first, living and working in the very place where Jaime had died. Brienne had not been able to drive away the melancholy when she arrived to assume her duties as Lord Commander of the King's Guard. She expected his presence to haunt every corner of the behemoth structure. She still could not force herself to venture to the lower levels of the Keep, unwilling to look upon the very spot where he had been found, clinging to Cersei. Brienne was uncertain if part of her had hoped there would be some sort of presence she might feel of him, a reminder of their feelings for each other, a connection, a strength to take from the utter sadness of it all. She chided herself for her silliness when she realized that she felt nothing of him here, and busied herself with her duties.

It was her duties that had kept Brienne so busy for most of the day, and that quickened her steps now. King Bran had requested her presence in his throne room. Brienne could not help but wonder what the reasons were behind her summons. She had heard that there were those who might be eager to take advantage of a weakened Westeros and a fresh boy king to further their own interests. It seemed there would always be threats to the kingdom. Her stomach tightened at the thought. The North would be the weakest place to strike should a stronghold be sought by a foreign force, or even a domestic one. Although the Army of the Dead and the Night King had been defeated, the cost had been great. Many Northern houses had paid dearly during the battle. While others still refused to pay tribute to their true queen, Sansa Stark. Some even swore that, Stark or not, they would never bend the knee to a woman. The months in Kings Landing had flown busily by, and it was easy to consume herself with her new position. She still worried about events in the North. Brienne pondered what her future might hold as she slowed her stride upon entering the King's throne room. Bran sensed her before he saw her. He greeted her almost before she had crossed the threshold of the vast hall.