"When I was a child, my brother would tell me a bedtime story about the man who murdered our father. Who stabbed him in the back and cut his throat. Who sat down on the Iron Throne and watched as his blood poured onto the floor." Daenerys spoke slowly and clearly, despite the rage that burned wildly in her eyes.

It took every ounce of courage Jaime possessed not to break eye contact with the small woman. Those eyes were too familiar, too much like her father's.

Unarmed, one-handed, and with hostile lords and ladies before him and to his sides and a troop of unsullied at his back he had never been so completely surrounded and defenseless. He had not even felt so completely defeated even when imprisoned by Robb Stark. He was perhaps as defenseless on the road to Harrenhall after the loss of his hand, but his fever had burned so hot then that he couldn't think, let alone concern himself with his unfortunate predicament. By the time his fever had passed, Lord Bolton had recognized his value and he was no longer a defenseless prisoner, but a valuable guest.

"He told me other stories as well." The little dragon queen continued. "About all the things we would do to that man once we took back the Seven Kingdoms and had him in our grasp."

She let the weight of her threat change heavy in the great hall. While not eager for it, Jaime was not afraid to die. He had never feared death, not really. He had feared failing to protect those he loved far more than he had ever feared death or any punishment that might be waiting for him thereafter.

"Your father was an evil man." Jaime said.

"My father was an evil man." Daenerys agreed. "But he was your king."

Jaime considered the charge she'd leveled against him and he had no defense against it. The Mad King had been a terrible ruler, but he was still a king and Jaime had been one of his King's Guard. Six other men had stood honorably by while the Mad King ordered the death of an entire city. Six other men kept their honor while Jaime sacrificed his own for the lives of thousands of innocents.

"He was my king." Jaime agreed. "And he intended to murder half a million people rather than surrender his throne. So tell me, Your Grace, when does a ruler forfeit their right to their throne?"

Daenerys stared at him for a long moment, her jaw tense in barely contained fury.

"Your sister pledged to send her army north." Daenerys said, changing the subject after a long moment.

Jaime felt a surge of shame for his sister's deception. "She did."

"I don't see an army." Daenerys made a show of looking around. "I see one man… with one hand."

The disgust in her eyes was clear as they drifted down to his golden appendage.

"It appears your sister lied to me." Daenerys practically snarled.

Jaime glanced over at his brother who met his gaze with an uneasy expression that did not off any reassurance.

"She lied to me as well." Jaime said, returning his attention to the queen. "She never had any intention of sending her army north. She has Euron Greyjoy's fleet and 20,000 fresh troops. The Golden Company from Essos, bought and paid for."

He saw the little queen flinch at this revelation, a look passing between her and Tyrion. If she'd imagined that taking King's Landing would be a simple matter, that mistaken impression was now shattered.

"Even if we defeat the dead," Jaime continued, "she'll have more than enough to destroy the survivors."

"We?" Daenerys challenged.

"I promised to fight for the living." Jaime said. "I intend to keep that promise."

Tyrion stepped forward drawing the queen's ire.

"Your Grace, I know my brother." The imp said. Jaime felt a fresh surge of love for his little brother.

"Like you knew your sister?" The queen's tone was so cutting, a lesser man would have shriveled before her. But Tyrion was not a lesser man. Smaller, yes, but not lesser.

"He came here alone, knowing full well how he'd be received." Tyrion pressed on. "Why would he do that if he weren't telling the truth?"

"Perhaps he trusts his little brother to defend him, right up to the moment he slits my throat."Daenerys sneered at her Hand.

"You're right." Sansa Stark spoke up, her ice-cold gaze cutting into Jaime.

Daenerys looked at the Lady of Winterfell, clearly caught off guard by this support. Apparently, cooperation among the invading queen and the North was not as seamless as the Targaryen would like people to believe.

"We can't trust him." Sansa continued. "He attacked my father in the streets. He tried to destroy my house and my family, the same as he did yours."

Jaime found it harder to meet the Stark girl's gaze than that of the dragon queen. Daenerys was little more than a name to him, but he knew the Stark girl. He'd seen firsthand the suffering inflicted on a once innocent child by him and his.

"Do you want me to apologize?" He asked. "I won't."

Sansa raised an eyebrow at this. He couldn't tell if she was impressed or amused by his stubborn courage. Other men would likely grovel for their lives at this point, recognizing that the tides were firmly turned against them, but Jaime had never been like other men and he would not grovel for forgiveness.

"We were at war." He said, speaking to the Stark girl, because her opinion mattered far more to him than the Mad King's daughter's. "Everything I did, I did for my house and my family. I'd do it all again."

At least, most of it. He thought. There was a thing or two he whined he could take back, but this was not the time or place to admit any such thing.

"The things we do for love." Bran said, drawing the attention of everyone in the hall.

Jaime faltered at that. He had no doubt that the crippling of Bran Stark was one sin the Starks would not forgive. With a single sentence, Bran could sign his death order.

But he said nothing else.

"So why have you abandoned your house and family now?" Daenerys asked.

"Because this goes beyond loyalty." Jaime glanced over at Brienne. He'd known exactly where she sat since she'd entered the hall. The hulking woman was a difficult figure to miss, but it was more than that. Even when he wasn't looking at her, he could feel her presence, like there was a string between them that had pulled taunt when she'd left King's Landing, drawing him after her. Now she was so close, but this time separated by all his past sins. She knew most, if not all of them, but still he felt shame to have her here, bearing witness to the full weight of them. "This is about survival."

He heard movement behind him and suddenly the Maid of Tarth stood between him and his judge, jury, and would be executioners.

"You don't know me well, Your Grace." Brienne addressed the queen, her voice shaking just slightly. "But I know Ser Jaime."

His heart sped up at her words. She was speaking for him. After all he'd done, after all she knew, she still thought him worthy of her words on his behalf. He looked down, for the first time truly feeling unworthy.

"He is a man of honor." She said.

Jaime swallowed hard at this praise from the only person who's opinion he counted for anything on the subject.

"I was his captor once." Brienne continued. "But when we were both taken prisoner and the men holding us tried to force themselves on me, Ser Jaime defended me. And lost his hand because of it."

The things we do for love. His own words swam to the surface of his mind, unbidden.

Brienne turned her attention to Sansa, who's gaze was far softer when directed at the tall blonde.

"Without him, my lady, you would not be alive." Brienne said. "He armed me, armored me, and sent me to find you and bring you home because he'd sworn an oath to your mother."

The hardness in the lines of Sansa's face softened almost imperceptibly, but the queen's expression roiled with rage.

"You vouch for him?" The Stark girl asked.

"I do."

Jaime studied the sliver of the side of Brienne's face that he could see from his position. Even uglier in daylight, he'd once said. But she didn't seem so homely now. In fact, by this light she could be a bold and beautiful knight. A figure minstrels would write ballads about. Brienne the Beauty.

"You would fight beside him?" Sansa pressed.

"I would." Brienne confirmed.

Jaime longed to reach out and squeeze her hand, to show his gratitude for her faith in him. Cersei had never cared about his wrongs, most of which had been committed on her behalf. Tyrion had loved him to much not to forgive him even his blackest deeds. But Brienne… Brienne had seen the beast the Seven Kingdoms despised. She had seen the man without honor. And she had taken the time to see the man beneath the misdeeds.

"I trust you with my life." Sansa said, after careful consideration. "If you trust him with yours, we should let him stay."

Fury blazed in the Dragon Queen's eyes as she looked at the red-haired beauty.

Brienne bowed her head respectfully and returned to her seat.

"What does the Warden of the North say about it?" Daenerys asked, looking to Ned Stark's bastard. He had the look of the Stark's far more than Ned's true born daughter.

Jon Snow studied Jaime with something close to compassion.

"We need every man we can get." He said.

"Very well." The queen conceded and gave the unsullied commander who had relieved Jaime of his sword a look.

Taking the queen's unspoken command, an unsullied approached Jaime with Widow's Wail in hand, pushing it into Jaime's hand with barely contained hostility.

Jaime bowed to the queen. "Thank you, Your Grace."

Daenerys stood abruptly, her beautiful face twisted in a frightful expression. The rest of the hall rose in an echo of her movement. She looked at Jon Snow as though he had betrayed her. But if Jon noticed her fury, it didn't show, as he watched Sansa, followed by Brienne, sweep from the hall.

Jaime watched Brienne leave. She looked back at him and for a brief moment he had the urge to follow, before the string between them pulled too tight again, but his gaze fell on Bran and the urge dissipated.

Jaime wandered aimlessly through the halls of Winterfell. The place was dimmer, grimmer than he remembered. Regret burned like bile in his throat for the part he'd played in the fall of the Starks. When Robert and Cersei had arrived in the North to replace the conveniently deceased Jon Arryn with Ned Stark as hand of the king, they'd arrived in a castle innocent of the political intrigue and manipulation of the South.

The Starks had been happy. The Stark children had been just that… children. He'd stolen that from each of them the moment he'd pushed Bran Stark from the window of the tower. At the time, he didn't see any other way. It was Cersei of the boy. If the boy spoke the truth of what he'd seen it would have been not only Cersei's death, but his own and that of their children. Truth be told, even now, he didn't see another way, but he no longer felt so certain that it had been worth the price.

He found his way back to the tower where it had all began. It looked almost the same. A little more crumbled, with snow drifting down through holes in the roof, dusting the room with a light coating of what might have been ash, if not for the chill biting at his nose. The ash of all the innocent lives that had been sacrificed for the sake of his selfish love for his sister.

He knew he'd fucked Cersei on this very floor, but he'd fucked her so many times that he couldn't remember anything special about the moment. Funny how often the moments that change everything seem so meaningless in hindsight. And for that meaningless moment of passion, he'd set in motion all the blood shed that had followed. He set in motion the death of all of his children and so many more.

He could now see the sum of his choices and he knew with certainty the price had not been worth it.

"Ser Jaime."

Jaime jumped, pulled from his thoughts. He looked around and found Podrick standing in the doorway of the tower.

"How did you find me?" He asked.

The squire shifted uneasily. "I followed you, Ser."

He studied the boy… no, no longer a boy and gave him a tight smile.

"I see you've managed to keep our lady safe." He said with a chuckle. "I'm sure she didn't make it an easy task."

"Lady Brienne keeps herself safe." Pod said.

Jaime gave a soft chuckle. "I suppose that's true."

He walked to the window stared out at the blanket of snow beyond. Even from this tower, he could hear the preparations for the battle to come. His left hand drifted to the hilt of Widow's Wail. The dead were coming. He knew what was coming when he left King's Landing to follow Brienne North…. His mind tripped over the admission.

Fuck loyalty.

Jaime told himself that he was coming North to keep his word, because he'd sworn to fight for the living, but that was only a part of it. He'd come North because Brienne heard him make that oath. He could stand the world thinking him an Oathbreaker, but not her.

"Is she well?" Jaime asked.

"Why don't you ask her yourself?" Pod asked.

Jaime glanced at the squire and shook his head as he laughed. "I don't think she'd take kindly to distractions."

"I think there's some distractions she wouldn't mind so much." Pod gave his crooked smile. "She and I… We'll be out in the yard training. Should you change your mind." Pod gave a quick dip of his head and ducked out of the tower.

And we're back! Because apparently I can't go more than 24 hrs without posting before the review withdrawals kick in... Thank you to everyone who is still with me for Episode 2! I'm writing as quickly as my crazy life allows, but I can't promise these daily updates will last forever! But in the meantime, what do we say to the God of Writer's Block? Not today!

Please review, it keeps me motivated!