A Rest of Swords

Part two

Now, let's start to go another way than what the series threw in our faces. I hope you like the path I decided to take instead. Feedback would be sooo kind...

It was a long ride ahead of Jaime. He thought about what he would have to do, asked himself more than once if he even could, but yes, it was necessary and he was sure that when the time came, he would find the strength he needed. The thought of her would give him the strength. Brienne. He wondered what she was doing right now. Was she still crying? Mourning over his leave? No, he couldn't imagine that. She was neither the type for self-pity nor was he sure that he meant enough to her to cause such a reaction. But she meant enough to him to let him make the hardest decision he ever had...

He felt with the stump of his hand for the sword that was fastened at his waist, Oathkeeper. It belonged to her, it always had and always would, but Jaime hadn't been able to suppress the urge to take it with him.
But I'm going to return it to you, Brienne, I promise, he thought to himself. He would do everything to come back, that was the oath he had silently sworn to her. Whatever happened afterwards would be her decision...

He asked himself what would have become of him if he had never met Brienne of Tarth. If he hadn't saved her from being raped by Locke's man.
I would still have my hand...
If he hadn't come back to save her again, hadn't jumped into the bear pit like a complete idiot with only one hand and no weapon at all. He smiled and shook his head at that memory. He still didn't know what had ridden him back then and he had to admit it: They had more or less saved each other that day.
And all of that had been worth it. Yes, even the loss of his hand. He couldn't believe that was actually what he thought, but it was. There had been a time when he had been certain that he was nothing without that hand, that it was everything that made him who he was, but she had taught him that he could be more than his lost fighting skills, that he was more than his family name and his reputation.

My family..., he thought. Did anyone of the name Lannister even know what the word family meant? Tyrion. Yes, Tyrion loved him as he loved his little brother, he was certain of that, but their bond had always been special. But the rest?
His father, the great Lord Tywin...maybe from afar you could have thought that his father had loved him, even more than any other of his children, but Jaime knew the truth. Tywin Lannister had not known what it meant to really love. What he saw in Jaime was an instrument to guarantee his legacy, but that was the only thing he had ever truly cared about.
And Cersei...yes, Cersei. Cersei had loved. Once. She had loved her children, more than anything, he knew it and maybe she had loved him as well. But that had been a long time ago. The price for loving her children as much as she had was that she was unable to love at all since she had lost them. And now, there was nothing left in her than danger, hate, cruelty and her thirst for power. She would be willing to manipulate everyone, including him. She would stop at nothing. Lying. Punishment. Torture. Killing. When someone had lost everything that mattered to him, had lost his ability to love, had lost as much as she had, there was almost no humanity left in them. And his sister was at this point now, beyond his control and perhaps even beyond her own.
With growing determination, Jaime pressed his legs in the side of his horse and drove it forward.

o~o~o~o~o~o~o~o~o

"Jaime."

"Cersei."

Everything that had happened between sneaking into the capital and standing here in front of her had passed Jaime in a blur. He had no memory of how he had arrived in the Red Keep or of making his way past the guards.

"Where have you been?", she wanted to know. A legitimate question.

"Away."

"Where?"