Warning: Talk of domestic violence.

A/N1: Did I remember to say this was unbetaed and all mistakes are my own?

Epilogue

Brienne walks in to the Jaime Lannister Investigations offices the next day to find Jaime sitting in the reception area's armchair, reading a paper.

"Please tell me there's no one we know in there," she groans.

"There's no one we know in here," Jaime says with an obliging grin. "How did you like sleeping in your own bed?"

"Loved it almost as much as getting to sleep before midnight," she says. "You?"

"Same," he says.

They both glance over as Sam wanders from his office towards them.

"Heard your voices," Sam says. "I've finally finished going through what surveillance cameras I could find outside the Onion Knight and the DragonPit the night you were mugged."

"We stopped the mugging," Brienne says firmly.

"The second time, anyway," Jaime says.

Sam nods absently. "Well, like I told you a few days ago, there weren't any surveillance cameras in those areas of the city, and it took me a little longer than usual to, erm, access the surveillance cameras in the DragonPit. I had to be very careful." He gives them a wide-eyed, terrified look. "The Clegane brothers don't react well when they know they've been hacked."

Brienne puts a comforting hand on her employee's shoulder. "I know, Sam."

"I haven't learned much you didn't already know. The three men who jumped you outside the DragonPit were the ones who confronted you in the alley outside the Dunk and Egg pub where Hot Pie works. They're also the ones who tazed you after you left the Onion Knight."

"So they deliberately followed us?" Brienne says.

"No," Jaime says slowly, "they followed Arya." He scowls. "Although…how did they find her at the DragonPit?"

They stand in a puzzled silence that's broken when the door chimes and Bronna strides in, large sunglasses obscuring most of her face.

"Don't you people ever work?" Bronna growls.

"You're the one who's late. Again," Jaime says with a teasing smile.

"Not in the mood, Jaime," Bronna snaps then sighs as she puts her purse down on the desk.

Her three companions exchange surprised looks, then Brienne says, "What's wrong?"

Bronna sighs again as she reaches up and removes her sunglasses, revealing her bruised and swollen eye.

"Bronna," Brienne whispers, eyes wide with horror. She hurries to her friend, her jaw clenched tight. "Did Joffrey—?"

"Yeah, the asshole," Bronna mutters. "He broke our engagement last night."

Jaime raises his eyebrow as he watches Brienne gently inspect Bronna's bruises.

"And he punched you for good measure?" he asks drily.

"I apparently did not appear grief-stricken enough," Bronna says, even more drily.

Jaime and Sam bristle at her words. "Do we need to go have a talk with him?" Jaime asks, his voice dangerously soft.

Bronna chuckles. "Thanks, but no. I've taken care of it." Her smile is sharp, her eyes cold. "I did what my daddy taught me. The prick should be pissing red for a week and hopefully singing falsetto for the rest of his life."

Despite their anger, both Jaime and Sam automatically drop their hands to protect their crotches and cringe.

Bronna waves Brienne away and says, "Oh, I called 911 for the little shit afterwards. Anonymously, of course."

"Of course," Brienne says. "Seriously, Bronna, do you want to press charges?"

"No," she says, and sighs. "Look, I know you may not believe this, but Joffrey never physically hurt me until these last couple weeks. He needs rehab, but his parents freaked the hells out when I suggested it." She sighs. "Well, Robert seemed okay with the idea, but Joffrey's stepmother—ugh!"

Jaime rears back and blinks. "She doesn't think the kid needs help?" he asks.

"The gods only know what that woman thinks," Bronna says.

"So this means the engagement is officially over?" Brienne tentatively asks.

"Oh, fuck, yeah," Bronna growls, "but I'm not looking forward to telling my dad!"

Brienne scowls. "Did he really want you to marry that asshole that badly?"

"He didn't want me to marry that asshole at all! Any more than I did, truth be told. My stepmother's the one with the boner for Joffrey's dad." Her voice drips bile, "'Big Bobby B, the King of Rock and Roll'." Bronna shakes her head. "Not that I blame her; it was pretty much the only reason I wanted to marry the jerk once the infatuation wore off. Or I sobered up. Whichever." She shakes her head. "Anyway, I can't let my dad see my face until the bruises fade otherwise he'll kill him, 'Crown Prince of Rock' or not. And trust me: nobody wants my dad spending the rest of his life in the Wall." She pauses then grins. "He'd be running the place in less than thirty seconds."

Jaime raises his eyebrow. "I must meet this man," he murmurs.

Brienne and Bronna thoughtfully consider him then exchange glances.

"We must never let them meet," Brienne says flatly.

"Oh, gods, no!" Bronna agrees. She glances at through the glass door. "Now, enough about me. What's happened with Joffrey is over and done and besides-looks like we have a client."

The door chimes and an elderly man steps into the office. His hair is grey, his nose aquiline, his shoulders broad. He's impeccably dressed and walks tall and proud. He glances from one to the other of them and says, "My name is Jon Arryn and I want to hire you to solve a murder."

Brienne's smile is professional. "Of course," she says. "Who was murdered?"

"Me."

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A/N: I'm almost sorry to end it like this because this series is going to be on a short hiatus while I'm participating in National Novel Writing Month, so Episode 3 may not be ready until sometime in December. Of course, if my muses fizzle out during NaNoWriMo, then the hiatus will be shorter than planned. :D