The Chambers of the Hand, Red Keep — King's Landing, CrownLands -A few Hours after the Visit to the Sept
After the events at the Sept, Olenna had made it clear that she wished to spend more time with Visenya and Cersei did not argue. Grabbing the chance, she let them go and chose to try something else.
She found the courage to visit the Chambers of the Hand, where her father spent most of his time. Perhaps it was foolish to confront him without Visenya forward but how else could she prove she was his daughter?
Brave like a Lion, isn't what they say?
Thankfully, Tywin had no guests or meetings so he accepted her visit. Yet, he did not directly grace her with his attention as he was busy writing a letter. Like he did with Tyrion, he let his daughter wait despite seeing how impatient she was.
"You wanted to speak to me?" he finally asked her, deciding not to make her wait longer for she would jump off her chair.
"Yes, about Jaime," she confessed.
"What about him?" he asked her and stole her a glance before focusing on folding the letter.
"I wanted to make sure we're doing everything we can to get him back."
The Old Lion could have easily corrected her, could have easily dismissed her with such stupid words coming from her mouth. How could his own daughter be that stupid?
He could clearly see there was more behind her words but she was beating around the bush and failing to do it properly. Yet, for the sake of peace at the moment and not wishing to mess with his temper, he tried to be more civil.
"When Catelyn Stark took Tyrion prisoner, what did I do in response?"
Cersei was quick to reply. "You started a war."
Tywin placed the melted red wax on the closed envelope and sealed it with the stamp of the Hand.
"And if I would start a war for that lecherous little stump, what do you think I am doing for my oldest son and one of my two heirs?"
The Lioness glanced at her hands for a moment, already seeing how easily he cornered her with his words. "Whatever you can."
This seemed to please Tywin since she proved she was not that much of a lost cause after all.
"Whatever I can," he reminded her, placed the letter to the side and started a new one. He gave his daughter a moment longer but when she did not move, he knew his suspicions were correct.
"You're still here," he pointed out.
Cersei gathered all of her courage to keep looking at her father, grabbing the chance that he was not staring back directly at her.
"Yes."
"Did it ever occur to you that I might be the one who deserves your confidence and your trust, not your sons? Not Jaime or Tyrion or your Golden Boy Trystan, but me? Years and years of lectures on family and legacy—the same lecture, really, just with tiny, tedious variations—did it ever occur to you that your daughter might be the only one listening to them? Living by them? That she might have the most to contribute to your legacy that you love so much more than your actual children?"
Tywin blew the ink on the paper for a moment and then placed the letter down. "All right. Contribute." He said, leaning back on the chair and putting his full focus on her.
His daughter moved her head just a tad to the side, trying to look past her father but not truly avoid looking at him; showing him she was weak and still afraid. "The Tyrells are a problem."
"The Tyrells helped us defeat Stannis Baratheon. The Tyrells saved your life, your children's lives." He reminded her.
Cersei kept looking to the side but eventually managed to gain the courage and look back at him. Sometimes she wondered how her good-mother could do it for long periods of time without flinching.
"Margaery has her claws in Joffrey. She knows how to manipulate him."
The news was not new to Tywin since Visenya had already suspected this outcome and so had he, after learning of Margaery's character and acting. However, he chose to use this topic to enlighten his dear daughter.
"Good. I wish you knew how to manipulate him. I don't distrust you because you're a woman. If that was the case I should distrust your good-mother for the same reason, but have you seen me doing that?" he asked rhetorically. "I distrust you because you're not as smart as you think you are. You've allowed that boy to ride roughshod over you and everyone else in this city."
He went back into writing.
The Lioness thought for a moment, realizing that this would not truly win her anything but then an idea popped into her mind. Margaery could try to manipulate him but at the end of the day, one man had never truly controlled a King and his decisions.
"Perhaps you should try stopping him from doing what he likes," she said, once again looking sideways while she unconsciously flexed her fist, something she and her father had in common.
Perhaps the only thing they would ever have in common in his eyes.
Tywin stopped writing and looked at his daughter with the same strict but also confident look he always had.
"I will."
It was his only comment, proof that he was ready to put a leash on that boy as well and start his 'education' as he did with every single one of his children.
Harrenhal Bathing Chambers - Riverlands - Under the Command of Roose Bolton
Brienne could not remember the last time she had a proper bath. All those months of fighting, changing sides and then...those damn mercenaries. At last, she was treated like a human being and she did not let the chance escape.
Sitting in a large bathpool in an ornate bathing room, she was busy scrubbing the layers of filth from her arms with a bristle brush.
"Not so hard. You'll scrub the skin off." A familiar voice said as Jaime entered with a squire.
"What are you doing here?" she asked, surprised, and tried her best to cover herself under the water.
"I need a bath," he told her and then turned to the squire. "Help me out of these rags."
With a few grunts, the boy helped him remove his filthy clothes. The body of the Lion was still fit despite the year spent with a minimum amount of food and just rotting in a cell or tied to a post.
Mud and blood and only the Seven knew what else was on his skin but at that moment he did not mind or care. His wrist ached, his right hand missing after one of those mercenaries cut his hand off.
Thankfully, that questionable maester had managed to clean away all the rotting flesh and wrap it in a clean cloth. He still did not know how his life would continue now, missing his sword-wielding arm.
"Now get out," he finally ordered as he worked to remove his trousers.
Brienne turned her head to the side and focused on cleaning herself more, barely glancing at Jaime as he stood in his birth suit. However, she did take notice when the Lannister Lion chose to head for her tub when there was another one empty next to her.
"There's another tub," she pointed out and moved to the far corner of the tub.
However, Jaime did not seem to mind or care as he entered the same tub she was in. "This one suits me fine," he said and stayed in his corner diagonally from her. He noticed how she lifted her knees and brought them closer to her body, covering her chest, which was still underwater.
"Don't worry. I'm not interested. If I faint, pull me out. I don't intend to be the first Lannister to die in a bathtub," he continued, his voice weak as the warm waters eased his aching body.
"Why should I care how you die?" she asked him, still trying to be as far away from him as possible.
"You swore a solemn vow, remember? You're supposed to get me to King's Landing in one piece. Not going so well, is it? No wonder Renly died with you guarding him." His words seemed to rub a sore spot because, in the next few seconds, Brienne was up. Her move had caused the water surface to become uneven and she did not care for modesty as she stared down at Jaime, challenging him to continue.
He looked into her eyes, seeing the look and somehow he knew he had fucked up. He slowly lowered his eyes, eventually looking at the water and choosing not to look at her body, in case he insulted her more.
"That was unworthy. Forgive me. You protected me better than most-"
"Don't you mock me"
"I'm apologizing" he confessed and almost felt the need to scoff. His good-mother always tried her hardest to make him a little more humble over the years. If only she could look at him now. "I'm sick of fighting. Let's call a truce."
"You need trust to have a truce." She reminded him.
"l trust you"
Brienne stared at him for a moment longer before she chose to sit in her corner. She was appeased but still fuming from his latest words. She did not bother to lift her legs or hide from him but she did give him a look, one that Jaime knew too well.
"There it is. There's the look. I've seen it for seventeen years, face after face. You all despise me. Kingslayer. Oathbreaker. A man without honour."
He scoffed but then chose to open up to one more person, after his good-mother.
"You've heard of wildfire?"
"Of course."
Jaime gathered his thoughts.
"Did you know that my good-mother invented it?" he asked her and from her expression, he had his answer. "Of course, she used it rarely and for the right reasons. She had it made to help protect her family now that dragons were gone. But then, my noble father took her to Casterly Rock and her work was left behind. Eventually, the Mad King found out about it and became obsessed. He loved to watch people burn, the way their skin blackened and blistered and melted off their bones. Wildfire could burn far stronger than common fire and he used it often while his sister was fighting for him in the last war."
He was not sure why he had started to narrate those words, why he had started to open up but somehow, he felt he had to. If he were to die soon, at least someone else could know of his past, of his actions.
Perhaps it was also the fact that Brienne, who talked of honour, thought he was a man that had none. Perhaps that was what motivated him to say the truth, making her the second person to even know.
Seeing that she was still paying attention to him, he continued. "He burned lords he didn't like. He burned Hands who disobeyed him. He burned anyone who was against him. Before long, half the country was against him. Aerys saw traitors everywhere. So he had his Pyromancer place caches of wildfire all over the city- beneath the Sept of Baelor and the slums of Flea Bottom...Under houses, stables, taverns. Even beneath the Red Keep itself." He confessed, earning a surprised reaction from her. "Finally, the day of reckoning came."
Jaime could almost remember that day, as he stood by the Throne and had heard the news. That day when his life would fully change and he would take the biggest decision of his life, suffering the consequences of it for years to come.
"Robert Baratheon marched on the capital after his victory at the Trident. But my father arrived first with the whole Lannister army at his back, promising to defend the city against the rebels. I knew my father better than that. He's never been one to pick the losing side, especially when my good-mother was a prisoner of Robert at that time." He blinked, keeping his consciousness from slipping as if his own mind was trying to pull him back to that horrific day. "l told the Mad King as much. I urged him to surrender peacefully. But the king didn't listen to me. He didn't listen to Varys who tried to warn him. But he did listen to Grand Maester Pycelle, that grey, sunken cunt. 'You can trust the Lannisters,' he said. 'The Lannisters have always been true friends of the crown.' 'Lord Tywin is married to your sister, he took an oath to protect your house'" he continued, scoffing as he remembered those words.
He was not sure why Pycelle ever sided with his father, and why Aerys listened to him when the majority went against that decision. He doubted Pycelle ever truly had any connection with his father or Robert and yet, he had chosen to risk it all. He was no fool, of course, and the odd Maester knew what would happen and yet he persuaded the king to listen to him.
"So we opened the gates and my father sacked the city. Once again, I came to the king, begging him to surrender. He told me to bring him my father's head. Then he turned to his Pyromancer. 'Burn them all,' he said. 'Burn them in their homes. Burn them in their beds.' Tell me, if your precious Renly commanded you to kill your own father and stand by while thousands of men, women, and children burned alive, would you have done it? Would you have kept your oath then?" he asked her, his voice cracking as the memory alone was becoming too much. He remembered when he confessed to Visenya about all of this, how his voice had cracked them but he had managed to remain composed; to remain strong as his father always wanted him to be.
Now, though, he was so tired...tired of people hating him without knowing the truth, looking at him like he was the worst person in this world...tired of playing it tough, being the proud Lion he had to be since he was a child...
He saw that Brienne was staring at him with wide eyes, shocked by the revelation but she had no answer to his question; unable to even think of the scenario in her head.
"First, I killed the Pyromancer. And then when the king turned to flee, I drove my sword into his back. 'Burn them all,' he kept saying. 'Burn them all.' I don't think he expected to die. He- he meant to burn with the rest of us and rise again, reborn as a dragon to turn his enemies to ash. I slit his throat to make sure that didn't happen. That's where Ned Stark found me." He finished his story and leaned his head back at the edge of the tub, exhausted after everything.
"If this is true why didn't you tell anyone?" Brienne finally asked, looking at him with shock and guilt for she had misjudged him. Jaime was now breathing heavily, feeling a sharp acute pain coming from his chest. "l did tell...my good-mother. She came to me one day, asking me why I stabbed her brother in the back...so I told her..." he could almost remember her soft touch on his cheek and then the way she had hugged him after seeing him avoiding her gaze in shame. "She never judged me for that...she still saw me as family...told me I did the right thing"
He truly missed her; he was not going to lie. She had been part of his life for years as he grew up. She was always the one comforting him after his father was being too harsh on him, always the one to have the best bits of advice.
She never judged him, she never expected the world from him and she was always there. After everything he passed through, after everything he had to suffer until now...oh how he wished he could see her again.
Would she still hug him and welcome him back? Would she still worry for his well-being and remind him that she was always proud of him?
"Why didn't you tell Lord Stark?" he heard Brienne ask and he fought to remain focused, his head feeling heavy but he managed to look back at her.
"Stark? You think the honourable Ned Stark wanted to hear my side? He judged me guilty the moment he set eyes on me. By what right does the wolf judge the lion? By what right?!" he tried to stand, fuelled by his anger but only collapsed.
Brienne moved fast, catching him in her arms before he could drown in the water. "Help! Help! The Kingslayer!" he shouted, hoping some guard or servant would hear them.
"Jaime. My name is Jaime." The man in her arms whispered his voice weak and his body feeling heavy like lead.