A/N: I just want to say that if I actually had you worried that I was killing either Jaime or Brienne, I'm going to take that as a compliment! I wasn't trying to psych anybody out; I just didn't want to spoil the fic. :D On a more serious note, I also didn't know how to warn for character death when the characters are main characters in the universe but are minor characters in the fic.
Chapter 37: Epilogue
Transcript excerpts from the documentary The Age of Magic, air date September 18, 2016:
Scholars still debate whether the Age of Magic truly existed. If it did, deciphering the truth of how it ended is no easy task. The burning of the Citadel library a thousand years ago destroyed many of the texts written by contemporaries to the alleged events and the few texts that do survive claim that all magical objects were destroyed at the same moment the last of the 'dragons' died. Surviving artifacts are ambiguous at best: a pouch full of dust claimed to be the remains of a magical glass candle; sword hilts that supposedly held blades made of mythical Valyrian steel. Modern historians now struggle to decipher the past using only surviving folk songs, what few texts remain, the family histories of the royal and noble Houses, and the geologic and archaeological records.
On one thing all are agreed: there was a Great Burning that touched every stronghold in Westeros, creating a thin layer of black ash throughout the geography of the continent. This thin layers separates the Age of Magic from all that comes after. The true cause of the Great Burning is, even now, the subject of spirited arguments and the occasional fistfight.
*/*/*/*/*
Records of the events of that time are not entirely lost. There still exist a number of songs that tell of the end of dragons. They tell of a beautiful exiled princess, of three dragons, and the destruction of an ancient, magical and royal family line. There are songs about the last King in the North, and the near-extinction of the Starks of Winterfell. There are songs that tell of the great love between the first Lannister King and his beautiful Queen. There are songs about creatures brought back from the dead by the power of ice and those brought back by the power of fire. There are songs of flaming swords wielded by heroes and cities razed to the ground when fire and ice met in their last great battle.
And there are songs that tell of a great wizard for whom the past and present and future are as one, sleeping in a secret tomb far in the North. He watches over Westeros in his dreams and will wake again if magic and dragons stir once more in the world.
*/*/*/*/*
King Jaime I Lannister and his queen, Brienne I of Tarth, were the last to take the Westeros Throne in the Year of the Six Monarchs and are the only co-rulers in Westeros history to govern the realm without the situation devolving into civil war. The current monarchy and most of the existing nobility can trace their lineage back to the first Lannister King and his Queen. But while they are confirmed historical figures, no physical evidence about them has ever been found—until now.
Last month, a double tomb was discovered bearing their names above the titles of Goldenhand the Just and Brienne the Beauty. Who knows what secrets will be revealed about the Age of Magic and its end once excavations are complete?
*/*/*/*/*
Jaime and Brienne lived as happily as can be expected when two strong-willed warriors are forced upon a throne neither desired and are then faced with ruling a realm devastated by war and winter.
The first several years after the death of magic were more difficult than any could have imagined, with the realm in tatters and most high-born Houses decimated or extinct. When winter arrived again only a year later, many more Westerosi were lost to panic and despair.
But the sun never entirely left the sky and winter only lasted for several months, and when the days began to shorten the following year, fewer people panicked. By the third year of regular seasons, the realm began to cautiously hope that the long winters of the past were gone—at least for a while.
*/*/*/*/*
Jaime and Brienne finally fulfilled the oath they had sworn to Catelyn Stark when they returned Sansa Stark to what was left of Winterfell—the only one of Lady Catelyn's children to do so. When Sansa finally married again, her husband took the Stark name because, as everyone knew, there must always be a Stark in Winterfell.
They never told Tommen and Myrcella the truth of their parentage and in the aftermath of the battle between ice and fire, there were none left who truly cared. Tommen was given Storm's End and ruled it and the Stormlands as a Baratheon. Myrcella eventually married Willas Tyrell and became Lady of the Reach.
*/*/*/*/*
Jaime and Brienne's love for each other became the subject of many songs that told of their devotion. Their heroics fueled even more. Songs were sung of the two facing dragons, and wielding flaming swords against creatures raised from the dead. The records of the decisions they made during their reign did not lend themselves to songs but were felt throughout the kingdom nonetheless.
*/*/*/*/*
Jaime and Brienne had a clutch of children, the oldest born just seven months after the destruction of King's Landing. Their children inherited their father's quick wit, their mother's honor, and both parents' skill with swords. Some were as beautiful as their father while others were as ugly as their mother, and their parents loved them no matter how they looked.
Jaime finally fulfilled one of his vows to Brienne when their third child was granted the name of Tarth and given the Sapphire Isle and the title of Evenstar.
When first Jaime and then Brienne died, they were buried together in a shared tomb that read Goldenhand the Just and Brienne the Beauty, and what was truth and what was lie was lost to history.
*/*/*/*/*
And as for Cersei, well...
*/*/*/*/*
The night is dark and full of terrors.
Cersei staggers to the wine jug and refills her goblet with an unsteady hand. Her quarters are comfortable enough, she supposes, here in this tower room—cell, really—at what remains of Stokesworth. She imagines she can hear them in the Great Hall, laughing at her, mocking her, and she wishes—wishes—wishes—she had a sword and could cut them all down. That upstart sellsword would be the worst, she knows, but Jaime—her twin, her sweet brother, the other half of her—would be laughing with them, twisted away from her by that brutish bitch he married.
At least she knows she's finally beaten that fucking prophecy. Her children live and the younger, more beautiful queens are both dead, and even better: the Imp, the valonqar, is also dead. She watched the burning of King's Landing with a smile, knowing there would be no hands wrapping round her white throat to choke the life from her. Even now the thought makes her smile.
She gulps down the wine and pours more.
She will get out of this prison, she thinks viciously as she drinks. She will find a way. She had wept for days when his sweet brother's whore had stolen her throne and given it to the false Targaryen, but the time for tears is past.
She is Cersei Lannister, a lioness, the Queen, dangerous and beautiful, and she will—
There's a slight rustling noise behind her and she turns, frowning.
Rats? she wonders and shudders. She will beat bloody whoever is supposed to clean this room if there are rats or other vermin here with her. She thinks fondly of Qyburn and his ability to deal with those who she discovered were problems. If only she had given him his chance to have that Brienne—the Beauty, they call her, she thinks with a sneer; Beast more like—as his...guest as he had wanted. She should have given him the bitch when he first asked for her.
She wouldn't be here if she had.
She turns back to her wine then hears the noise again.
She spins round and through blurry eyes sees a figure slinking from the shadows. Tall, slender, just a boy, really, with a smile curving his thin lips, and eyes as cold as ice.
Her mouth sags open, eyes widening.
"Who are you?" she demands and hates the fear she hears in her voice. "What do you want?"
He draws closer and she backs away. His grin only widens and he stalks her round the room until he has her cornered and there's nowhere left to go.
Realization dawns, a cold, hard lump in her stomach. "Did he send you?" she spits. "The Imp? He's dead now and I will pay you more to let me live."
The stranger's mouth is a gaping, dark hole as he laughs. "The Imp didn't send me, Cersei. You're just the last one on my list."
He places his hands round her neck and begins to squeeze.
Cersei struggles but she's weakened by wine and horror.
"Who are you?" she manages to gurgle.
Now the stranger's face comes into focus and she now sees the feminine cast to the features, the familiar gray eyes and the smile is feral and wolfish on such a young girl's face.
"I'm no one," the girl says and laughs but Cersei knows who she must be now.
Oh, she thinks and the world turns black.
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Author's Notes
Sorry, it's against this site's terms to post Author's Note's as separate chapters. :(
General:
This fic started its life as one scene in an inn that was supposed to be a little PWP ficlet. If you can tell me what happened, I'll be forever grateful.
This fic is my official head!canon of where the story is going. That said, there are only two things I'm 100% certain about:
1. Jaime and Brienne are going to get married and bang like bunnies; and
2. I am 100% wrong about absolutely everything else – LOL.
Okay, I really do hope Jaime/Brienne will somehow survive end game and end up on the throne of Westeros (whatever it's called when it's all said and done), but I also know it's extremely unlikely. That, however, is why there's fanfic. ;D
Dear GRRM:
By the gods, I get it. I wrote one sliver of canon-compliant fic and I took a "Rosencrantz and Guildenstern are Dead" approach to the story, and it's taken me 6.5 months and the struggle to get the storylines to mesh up was mind-blowing (and I completely ignored a lot of storylines).
Also, the struggle to not write from other POVs was very real. I had started making story notes about what was happening in each area of the world and I had to stop because I was writing whole other fics. Although I have to admit, Dany in Dorne would have been fun to show.
Which brings me to:
Dany:
Yes, I made Dany more cruel and heartless than she seems to be in either show or books. However, I tried to think of what she would be like if she decided to embrace her 'fire and blood' persona and this is what I came up with. I also came from the premise that we mostly see Dany from her own POV and everybody's the hero of their own story. But whether somebody's a hero or a villain usually depends on which side of the story you're on. If somebody invaded my country with dragons and a shitload of rapists/pillagers, they would not be a hero to me, no matter who they were.
I also tried to think of just how successful Dany would actually be, landing on a continent that's already half-destroyed by war and with 50,000 barbarian horsemen in tow. There's not a whole lot left to pillage and keeping 50,000 of those assholes happy and under control won't be easy. She also has no supply lines; how is she going to keep her troops fed?
The final thing I considered is the fact that winter has arrived and her troops are only used to warm weather and don't even have clothes for winter. Seriously, besides the food, how is she going to clothe them all?
Anyway, I didn't really delve into it very much in the fic, but all I could think was that Dany's like Napoleon invading Russia. The only thing that saves her, really, are the dragons that let her advance more quickly (north, though!) than she could have without them.
All of this is a long-winded way of saying that if GRRM has Dany easily conquer Westeros with minimal loss of troops, I will be severely disappointed.
The Ending:
Yes, I know dragons are fire made flesh and should therefore be immune to the wildfire that consumed King's Landing. But the riders would not be (Dany is not immune to fire in the books, according to GRRM) and the idea of riderless dragons running around just was out of scope for this fic - LOL.
I also approached the dragons/Others question with the following logic: IMO, both the Others and dragons are weapons of mass destruction. What happens to most weapons of mass destruction once they're triggered? They tend to destroy themselves as well as whatever they're targeting. I then used the premise of Mutually Assured Destruction and the idea that these are the last magical creatures alive in the world and finally twisted it into "one can't live if the other one dies".
Another long-winded way of saying that it wasn't the fire that killed the dragons, but the destruction of the Others. And no, the characters in this fic will never understand that because…how could they?
This idea probably doesn't align well or at all to canon but…fanfic?
Cersei:
I just find it somehow satisfying to think that Cersei will meet her end and never truly understand who the Another, Younger and More Beautiful truly was (Brienne). And I actually quite like Cersei as a character; I just find it amusing in a twisted kinda way. *shrugs*
Finally:
Thanks to everyone who's taken this ride with me—whether you were there when I first started posting or if you've only read the story now. I hope you loved the journey as much as I loved creating it!
Oh, and that scene that started it all? It ended up on the cutting room floor. Go figure.