What Was Left

Chapter 5

Jaime eyed Tyrion over the cup of weak wine, sausage, and crust of bread he had been brought to break his fast. Tyrion had made haste to his brother's quarters directly following his talk with the King. He knew not how he would convey all that King Bran wished for Jaime to hear, but assumed that it would all be known by the time their conversation was over. So he had gathered a meal and a bundle of fresh clothing, and headed for the ruined part of the White Sword Tower. It was not a talk to which he was looking forward.

"In what dilapidated, forgotten corner of Casterly Rock have you got me?" Jaime leered harshly at his brother.

Tyrion drank slowly from his own goblet, trying to forestall the conversation he feared was inevitable. "We are not on The Rock." He answered lowly, almost emotionless, taking another swallow for good measure.

Jaime's brow shot upward accusingly. He had assumed Tyrion would have ensured he be held somewhere no one would pose questions. "Where then?" He asked dryly. "Not Winterfell surely. It's not nearly that cold." His smirk came out more hateful than he intended.

Tyrion stared at Jaime indignantly. "Just how far do you think me capable of dragging you?" He questioned.

Jaime's eyes widened as he comprehended Tyrion's meaning. "I am still in Kings Landing?" He gasped. Tyrion raised his brow in sarcastic reply, his face conveying more than he spoke.

Jaime could still read him like a parchment. "The Keep?" He leaned forward in disbelief. "You have kept me in the Red Keep this whole time?" He was shocked.

"Hidden you." Tyrion corrected.

Jaime chuckled bitterly. "Is my situation that dire?" He asked. "Is there a price on my head?" The thought did not alarm him as it once would have.

Tyrion shook his head and laughed. "No. Happily, the news of your resurrection has been better welcomed than I had anticipated." He relayed. "I had feared you would be held culpable for Cersei's crimes." Tyrion explained. "However, King Bran was quite amenable to your remaining here in The Keep. In fact, he wishes you moved to more appropriate accommodations." Tyrion told him.

"King? Bran?" Jaime wondered. His look warmed remembered the boy's reception of him at Winterfell. He imagined the kind and understanding ruler the young Stark would become. "Apparently much has changed since my death." He remarked.

Tyrion sighed deeply. "You have no idea." He agreed.

Jaime noted the sarcasm in Tyrion's voice, but let it pass. "Just how long have I been in exile?" He asked, part of him wanted to laugh, but most was concerned at the time that had passed. He had lost track of fortnights. Entire moons had come and gone without his notice.

"Almost a year." Tyrion reported.

Jaime sat pensively. "A year?" He repeated in a whisper, his breath leaving his lungs. His mind turned over the possible paths Brienne's life could have taken in such a time. He had to know.

"Level with me, Brother." Jaime's tone was deadly serious. "You have expressed to me that Brienne is well, but nothing more." His eyes were pained. "Please, tell me where she is? Still guarding Queen Sansa at Winterfell?" His tone was hopeful. At least there, he figured she would be safe.

"No, Jaime. She is not at Winterfell." Tyrion shook his head, and studied the space between them.

Fear began to build behind Jaime's eyes. He would never believe that Brienne would foresake her duty. He could think of only place more dear to her than Winterfell. "Evenfall? She has returned to her father's house." He offered, hopefully. She would no doubt be even more protected there. Tyrion replied with simply the shake of his head, unable to meet Jaime's hopeful gaze.