Chapter Text
Jaime rolled over, tangled in his covers, and fumbling for his phone so he could have the blinds pull up. He’d gone to bed late last night. Brienne had stopped at a supermarket on the way back, and brought them cold meats, cheeses and bread so they could enjoy a picky dinner together. Jaime had been surprised that she’d showed signs of wanting to stay, but she’d made no mention of going home, not until the early hours of the morning.
As much as he would have liked to believe it was because she wanted to spend time with him, her meaning had become clear, when after dinner, she’d slapped her black diary onto the table between them. This time it was stuffed full of bits of paper, and she opened it to today’s date, then slid it across the table towards him.
‘Here,’ she’d told him. ‘These are the details – actual details, not just letters or drawings – for the days up until the concert.’ She’d gone through everything with him, including the ideas that she had for getting around certain events, although she had admitted she was at a loss for what they could do if Cersei wasn’t back by the concert. She’d scribbled a list of ideas down, everything from hiring Unella to stand on the stage to mime and dance, to employing the use of holograms, to cancelling the concert, and confessing all to Tywin, although she hadn’t put much thought into that plan, and the sentence trailed off, as though writing it down wasn’t even worth the effort.
Jaime had to believe that his sister would be back. It had been almost a week now. Cersei had never spent so much time alone with just one person in her life. She’d be going mad, and begging her new husband to come back home.
It had occurred to him that something unsavoury had happened to his sister, and that maybe he and Brienne should be a little more worried about where Cersei was, but Brienne had shaken her head. Euron, she told him, was obsessed with Cersei. Couldn’t do enough for her, and wouldn’t dare lay a finger on her. Cersei didn’t really believe in keeping in touch with people – her social media accounts were run for her, and she’d had an assistant to text people back since she was 20. This going off the grid wasn’t surprising or out of character. If Cersei sometimes went home with a man, Brienne wouldn’t hear from her until she wandered into the flat the next day looking pleased with herself.
And as much as she’d been in difficult situations in the past, Cersei could handle herself.
At one point, after Brienne had spoken for twenty minutes about today’s plan, Jaime had excused himself to his room to grab something. He’d come back in wearing his reading glasses, so he could look like he was taking this as seriously as she was. Her lips had twitched, and he’d pretended not to notice the way she’d stuttered on her words the second after she saw him in them.
If he replayed that moment last night until he fell asleep that was nobody’s business but his.
After a quick shower, Jaime was surprised to hear the front door open. He almost tripped over his underwear in his haste to get his robe on, and rush to see who was coming in. His sister’s name was just about to fall from his lips, when he heard the coarse tone of Bronn’s voice.
‘What,’ he gasped, holding the wall and staring at the four people now in front of him, ‘how did you get in?’ His eyes scanned them all, but he’d been able to tell in the first second that Brienne wasn’t with them. ‘Do you have a key?’
‘This place is keyless,’ Arya said, giving him a dirty look. ‘It’s via the app, and Brienne has granted us temporary access for today.’
Right. Jaime had a spare key, just on the off-chance technology went wrong, and he’d been using that from the start of his stay.
‘Why isn’t Brienne with you?’ he asked, folding his arms and trying not to pout. He didn’t think he quite managed if the snort that Bronn tried to disguise as a laugh was anything to go by.
‘She’s got stuff to do,’ Arya said. Most of the others had gone into the living room, but she stayed in the hallway, leaving Gendry to take her bags in with his. She crossed her arms, mirroring Jaime’s position, staring at him. ‘Brienne’s life doesn’t revolve around you or your sister.’
‘I know that,’ Jaime said, but the words stung him a little. His sister took advantage of Brienne, he was sure of that, and now that Arya had pointed it out, he could see that he probably had been too. He should have told his father about what Cersei had done, instead of trapping Brienne into his plan. She could go and see her father, like she’d said once.
Whatever his expression showed, it seemed to soften – although Jaime would have used that word lightly when describing anything about Arya Stark – her, and her scowl turned into her usual guarded expression.
‘She had a meeting with Addam to update him on the goings-on,’ Arya said. ‘But she said she’ll be here as soon as she can.’
‘Oh,’ Jaime said, then cleared his throat and tried to deepen his voice. ‘That’s good.’
‘Yeah,’ Arya said, giving him a shrewd look. ‘Something about not quite trusting us without supervision. She seemed to think we might send you off with a goth make-over or something.’
‘Did she now?’ Jaime asked, and he fell into step besides Arya as they made their way to the living room.
‘Personally, I think Cersei would rock the goth look, and might suggest it to her next time we see each other. People would go crazy for it, don’t you think?’ she asked. ‘She’d be the talk of the next 8 hours online.’
‘Do you meet my sister often?’ Jaime asked. Sandor was setting up more pots and brushes along the make-up table, even though Jaime didn’t see what was so different about these new ones to the ones that were already sitting there. Bronn had pulled out a wig and was using a head mannequin to put the finishing touches to it. Today the hair had been left curly at the ends, with a braided band running along the back of the head. Jaime eyed the ends with some trepidation. They’d reach the top of his legs today, and he was worried he might accidently sit on them at some point and drag the whole thing off his head.
‘Occasionally when me and Sansa – my sister -,’ Arya said pointedly, like Jaime wouldn’t remember who Sansa was. Jaime would have been offended; except he had forgotten who Sansa was. ‘Pick Brienne up before we all hang out somewhere.’
Jaime looked at her.
‘You and Brienne are friends? How long have you known each other?’
‘A while.’ Arya glanced at him, her lips twisted to one side. ‘Sansa met Margaery at some party or other, and they bonded and became friends and she introduced us to Brienne, and then we all bonded and now we sometimes hang out. And then Sandor got a job working for Cersei, or maybe he worked for her before, I don’t remember the timings, but it’s a small old world and is there anything else about our personal lives you’d like to know?’ she asked. She was only a small woman, but if Jaime had been a lesser man he would have cowered in fear. He felt like at any second Arya would make a sudden move; not to attack him, but just because seeing him flinch would give her great joy.
‘It’s not your personal life I was interested in,’ he said before he could stop himself.
‘I know,’ she replied. ‘If I thought it was I’d already have left.’ She bent down to rummage through a bag that had been dumped on the floor, standing back up a few seconds later, a truly evil smile on her face. ‘Now come along, Jaime Lannister. It’s time for my favourite; we’re about to make you as hairless as a naked mole rat.’
Jaime swallowed his sigh and followed her back to the bathroom.
*
Brienne showed up half an hour before they were due to leave to get to today’s appointment on time. The early morning light had burned off while Jaime sat being waxed and plucked and slathered in make-up, and although most of his insides leapt with joy when Brienne walked into the flat, his nerves were starting to crack through and he frowned at her instead of greeting her properly. Without Brienne in the room, Bronn, Sandor, Arya and Gendry had felt loose enough to crack jokes Jaime rather wished he could scrub from his ears. A couple of times Bronn had strayed across some line or other, but he soon shut up when Arya appeared silently next to him, her face the only warning he needed to apologize to the room in general.
‘What do you think?’ Sandor asked, turning Jaime to face Brienne for her seal of approval. Jaime thought it was rather pointless – he’d never seen her wear any make-up in the almost week since he’d known her. Would she really know more than Sandor what looked good and if the foundation had been blended correctly or if the eye shadow complimented Jaime’s skin tone? (All things Jaime had learnt were important this week from Sandor’s mutterings).
‘You’re the expert,’ Brienne said. ‘He looks like Cersei, and the brief we got today was to make her look pretty and approachable so she’ll fit the theme of the videos they’ll be posting. You’ve done that.’ She smiled at Sandor, and Jaime’s heart didn’t hitch in his chest.
He turned his gaze downwards, so he wouldn’t have to think about why she’d never smiled at him like that. Wasn’t he doing a good job as Cersei? Was she still holding those earlier fuck-ups against him? He supposed he couldn’t blame her, not really.
‘The lip gloss is strawberry flavoured,’ Jaime said, and all eyes turned to him. It was also sparkly, and Jaime couldn’t imagine his sister ever wearing something this tacky and sticky. Even in their teenage years she’d looked down on the other girls in their school who gooped this stuff over their lips. Jaime had cringed away when he’d first seen Sandor pull the tube from the table, as flashbacks to girl’s pouting in his face trying to get him to kiss them raced across his mind.
‘How nice,’ Brienne said. She stared at him a little longer. ‘Sandor you’ve done a really good job. You’ve made Cersei softer somehow...but still like her.’ It was true. Sandor had done a good job, despite the lip-gloss. Jaime’s eyes were big but not over made up, and there was colour in his smooth cheeks. Cersei would be a glowing picture of health thanks to the high lighter brushed across his cheeks, and the bronzer Sandor had lightly dusted across his face.
‘I think we’re just about ready then,’ Jaime said, standing up. He dropped the robe he’d been wearing across the back of his chair, feeling a ridiculous urge to do a little twirl so Brienne could get the full effect. Arya had pulled him into a floor length soft purple dress, with a lace covering that flowed over his body. She’d paired it with a little purple cardigan which nobody was really happy with, but that couldn’t be avoided; they couldn’t edit his arm muscles in real life. So they had to hide them.
‘It’s like Cersei’s in the room,’ Brienne said, smiling, and fine, Jaime could deal with that. Obviously, she wanted his sister to be here. It would save her a lot of trouble and time, and Jaime wished for the same thing, except he was also kind of glad Cersei had done her disappearing act because he never would have got to know Brienne like he had if she hadn’t.
‘What’s the plan for today?’ Arya asked, gathering up the litter she’d left all over the place. Not only were his team good at their jobs, they picked up after themselves too. ‘What adventure are you two off on?’ Brienne didn’t believe it was a good idea to put any of their plans that alluded to Cersei not being here into emails or texts, so the team normally showed up blind, except for instructions on how Brienne wanted Cersei to look for that day. As safe as the internet could be, it was also extremely hackable, and having heard how she got fired from being Renly’s assistant, Jaime couldn’t blame Brienne for being cautious.
‘CD signing,’ Brienne said, hoisting her bag further up her shoulder, and rifling though it to make sure she had everything for today. ‘Tywin and Addam got an exclusive deal for a record store, and it’s the only place you can order a signed CD from. They want to post it all over their socials before the album release and concert next Friday to really get the fans hyped up.’ She rolled her eyes. ‘I’ve done some research and it’s not the type of place Cersei would usually be doing deals with, but Addam wants to go after the younger crowd. I don’t know why he thinks that trying to compete for the teenage market is a good idea, when Cersei’s fans are lifelong followers, but then again they also probably won’t care about where they buy her CD’s from, just as long as they get them.’
‘Well, good luck,’ Arya said.
‘Thanks,’ Brienne said, gesturing to Jaime to leave the room, and following behind him. ‘I think we might need it.’
*
‘Excellent guys, that was such a good one!’ Missandei, the young woman taking care of them today said, angling her camera phone this way and that so she could get the perfect shot of Jaime to post. She’d already taken twenty videos of him, although luckily most of them were close ups of his hands signing the CD’s, or extra wide shots, where he could flick part of his hair in front of his face and pretend to concentrate on what he was writing. He’d spent years forging Cersei’s signature on things, and the ability had come back to him after a few tries last night. 750 CD’s. He kept trying to tell himself it wasn’t a lot but he’d almost cried at the piles that had been stacked up behind the table the store had set up for him and Brienne to sit at today.
The store ‘Unsullied’ was the newest big thing to hit the London streets. A three story building filled to the brim with everything popular culture could throw at a person, the building was painted black, and the inside was an Instagramer's dream. Neon signs, and sofa’s that looked like clouds, gleaming black floors and discreet hidden till points if anyone should actually want to make a purchase – which people did, because of the ‘statement’ carrier bags Unsullied gave out which were the latest fashion item trend. Even Jaime had seen the viral video of some fashion blogger turning the bag into a crop top and going about her day in it. Head pounding music sounded from the speakers which were disguised to look like everyday shop items; so far Jaime had spotted a rock, a small robot computer and an old-fashioned radio. CD’s were displayed individually along a light up wall that changed colour on the third floor, and it was this that Jaime and Brienne sat in front of. They’d closed the top floor for this ‘private event’ today, which meant that the only people allowed access were Cersei, her team (who was just Brienne), and several of the workers.
They’d been here for an hour. Two to go. And Jaime was hating every single second of it.
Missandei had greeted them at the front of the store, and walked them up the shiny black spiral staircase to the third floor, where Jaime had gripped the polished golden bannister so he wouldn’t sprain an ankle, and settled him and Brienne on glittery tables where they’d spend their afternoon signing the CD’s behind them. Every few minutes, Missandei would appear at the end of Jaime’s table and take a few shots, or take a video, and tell him how to pose, and every time Jaime’s heartbeat would increase, and he’d plead silently with all the Gods that nobody would notice anything weird. Brienne had had the forethought to adorn Jaime’s hands with tiny delicate rings that hopefully disguised his man knuckles, and the bejeweled clear nails Arya had attached. Missandei insisted on several close up’s of Jaime signing the CD’s so that the fans would know they were genuine. Jaime had never been so thankful for filters, or his sisters insistence that they be used on photos of her. If anything looked a little out of the ordinary they could blame it on the effects Missandei was layering on top of the images and videos before posting.
She’d also insisted on Jaime writing several personal comments on the CD’s and kept pouting into the camera about ‘who would be the lucky fan to get THIS special edition of the CD?’ which meant that Jaime’s hand was already cramping.
Since Cersei wasn’t the type of artist for Unsullied’s core fan base, most of the staff had only wanted to meet her once, before slinking back downstairs to get on with the rest of their day. Jaime had shaken their hands, and given them Cersei’s signature smirk and made small talk, but his sister wasn’t the type of person to fawn over her fans, so he could get away with not looking them in the eye for long, or gushing over the tiny details of their lives that they seemed to insist on telling him. The only thing that made him worried was the photos they insisted on taking, with their heads pressed together, but he had to put his trust in Sandor and Bronn’s work, and believe that everyone would be fooled by his face and the filters. Normal people didn’t seem to want unedited photos of the Internet either, and Jaime had learnt several new Snapchat filters today.
Although as Brienne pointed out on the way over, if the worst came to the worst, they’d just let the rumours about Cersei being cloned or replaced after dying and Tywin deciding to hide it so that he wouldn’t lose millions of pounds float around. Plenty of celebrities had those and their careers weren‘t ruined because of it. He could see Brienne constantly refreshing Cersei’s hashtag on all social media sites, and reading the comments, but she didn’t seem to have found anything overly concerning yet.
‘Just a little longer,’ she said quietly to him now, watching as he massaged his hand. ‘She said she’ll probably only be around for another half an hour or so, and once she’s gone I can help.’ 750 CD’s hadn’t seemed like a lot when Jaime had first heard it, but Brienne had given him a sympathetic face when she’d mentioned the number, and Jaime had decided to trust her judgment. It still hadn’t prepared him.
‘Good,’ he said, then flashed Cersei’s blinding smile at Missandei as she aimed her phone at him once again. He was sick of staring down at his sister’s smiling face on the album cover, as she sat on a throne and beamed out with a giant crown on her head.
He’d seen that crown. It was currently locked in his father’s offices, since it was decorated with a million pounds worth of of jewels. Cersei was going to wear it at the concert next Friday.
The concert that his sister was going to be back for. That she had to be back for. He’d been trying to push the concert out of his mind, but sometimes it reared up and he couldn’t fight the panic that overwhelmed him. If Cersei didn’t come back...he wasn’t sure what him and Brienne could come up with to make that evening go off without a hitch. He couldn’t sing, and he couldn’t get on a stage in front of thousands of Cersei’s fans and pretend to be her. They couldn’t hire Unella without fear of the story getting out.
There was only one viable solution and Jaime hoped with all his might that it wouldn’t come to that.
‘Right, I’ve got about 70 videos and 120 photos so that should keep everyone happy for a while,’ Missandei said, approaching Jaime. He quickly put down the Sharpie he’d been using to scrawl Cersei’s name across the plastic cover of her album, wondering if he’d have to be here longer than the three hours. The piles of CD’s behind him didn’t appear to be growing any smaller, even though Jaime would have sworn he’d written Cersei’s name about 500 times already. ‘I’ve posted a few of them live, just to get everyone hyped, but I’ll leave some for later, and some to obviously post on the actual album release date. I’ve got some other things I need to deal with now, but I’ll be back in around an hour or so, okay? My office is downstairs if you need anything and your assistant has my number,’ she said pointing at Brienne, like Jaime wouldn’t have any idea who she was speaking about if she didn’t.
It had surprised him slightly how Brienne was treated. People looked past her, all their attention focused on Cersei once they realised they weren’t about to be yelled at for speaking to the star. Brienne would fade into the background, stepping in now and again only to answer an occasional question if Jaime didn’t know how to respond. It was amazing really, how much she knew about Cersei and the ins and outs of how her engagements ran; Addam and his crew were the main points of contact, and responsible for sorting and organizing all the events. Brienne just had to make sure Cersei got to them on time, but Jaime knew she read all the detailed emails Addam sent over to her each week with a list of the public appointments he’d made for Cersei.
‘Thank Gods that’s over,’ Jaime said, dropping the honeyed tones he had to use for Cersei. With the pounding music, and dim lights, and the neon signs on the wall that occasionally flashed he wished he’d taken the headache pills that Brienne had offered to him in the car. He’d thought she was being overly dramatic.
As if she could read his mind, Brienne reached into her bag stored underneath her own glittery table, handing him the little packet of pills and a bottle of water. In the next minute she stood up, and turned the little switch on a shiny black skull, switching off the sounds of the latest teen singer. They could still hear the thumping bass coming from the other floors, and through a couple of other speakers disguised as objects, but they were spread around the floor enough that it felt like silence to Jaime. ‘Thank you,’ he said, swallowing the pills and drinking half the water, also grateful that nobody would be coming to check on them. Sandor had slipped the glittery lipgloss tube into his bra strap on the way out the door, and told him he’d probably need to reapply it a couple of times over the next few hours, but so far he’d managed to get away with not reapplying. (He figured he could get away with it, because Brienne hadn’t pointed it out to him, and he noticed she did keep peering over at his lips. Jaime wished it was for another reason, but sadly he knew it was just to check if he needed to refresh his make-up.) It was the same lip gloss that Cersei was wearing on her album cover, Jaime could see now, staring at his sister on the photo in front of him.
‘We won’t have long,’ Brienne said, sitting back down and pulling a pile of CD’s over to her. She snapped her own Sharpie open and had signed four CD’s before Jaime could even register what was happening. Cersei’s signature was perfect on each on them, and she’d even added a little note on one. ‘Anyone could come up here at any time, and I know they probably don’t expect Cersei to sign all of them, but it’s better just to pretend.’ She looked at him then. ‘But you can probably rest for five minutes. I’ve done a few of these with Cersei over the years, and she always cramps up around 100 CD’s or so.’
‘Thanks,’ Jaime said again, slumping in his seat. Maybe he would have been as fast as Brienne was if he hadn’t had to pose and wasn’t super aware of how his hand movements would come across on the camera.
‘No problem,’ she said, concentrating on her task, which gave Jaime all the permission he needed to watch her. Her hand flew across the CD’s, and she stacked them neatly into a pile on the end of the table. Her hair was mused like usual, even though Jaime never saw her fiddling with it; Brienne wasn’t the type to run her hands through it, and mess it up to make it look cool (then he got distracted by thinking about running his own hands through it, and had to blink several times to come back to himself.) Her shirt today was loose, spilling over her back, the pale purple colour matching the dress he was wearing. He could see the curve of her cheek, the profile of her face, her blonde lashes casting shadows over her pale skin every time she blinked. He followed the bloom of the blush on her skin as the faint pink blush crept up and over her face.
‘Stop it,’ she said, her pen pausing.
‘What?’ he asked, shifting himself around a little and grabbing another couple of CD’s so he could distract himself. ‘I was just thinking.’
‘You were staring at me,’ she said, and Jaime gave a non-committal shrug, which wasn’t quite a denial but wasn’t him admitting to it either. ‘What were you thinking about?’ she asked, moving her teetering pile of CD’s onto the floor and pulling another stack towards her.
‘My sister,’ he said, because Cersei was staring at him – there was a giant blown up poster of her in a skimpy outfit he’d rather not have in his face stuck just at the side of them. ‘Her love life,’ he added. ‘Tell me about Lancel.’
‘Lancel?’ Brienne said, a frown on her face.
‘My cousin?’ Jaime asked. ‘The one she got engaged to? How many Lancel’s do you know?’
‘Three, actually.’ she said. ‘What do you want to know about Lancel Lannister? He’s your cousin, you know more than I do.’
‘I didn’t know him and Cersei were ever engaged,’ Jaime admitted, and he heard the squeak of Brienne’s pen pause for a second. ‘She never told me, and from what I read it was over quite quickly, fast enough that the story didn’t reach whatever country I was in at the time. By the time I came back the news had blown over.’
‘What do you want to know?’ Brienne asked.
‘How it happened,’ Jaime said. ‘Who allowed it to happen. The public can’t have reacted well to the news.’
‘Marrying your cousin is legal over here,’ Brienne said, adding more CD’s to her pile. She’d written ‘Follow your dreams’ on the top one and signed it with a giant kiss; the perfect generic unique words that a fan would love.
‘How did it happen? And don’t give me some guff about him going down on one knee and producing a ring,’ he added.
He could feel Brienne’s glare on the side of his face. ‘I wasn’t going to,’ she said, and he had to believe her. She wasn’t the kind of person to try and play with words or to fob someone off. ‘It was a bad time. Cersei had lost her contracts and was trying hard to win them back, or to get other brands to sponsor her, but they were all cautious, telling her pretty words but not following through. She’d fallen into a very quick and deep romance with Taena, and was devastated when Taena called off their engagement because she couldn’t handle the pressure from the public and the press.’ Jaime’s stomach turned at that; he’d assumed his sister had been the one to call off that engagement. He should have known better; pressure never seemed to get to his sister and she wouldn’t have cared what people were saying about her; in fact she would have pushed back and gone through with her plans even if she had had a change of heart, just to spite everyone. ‘Lancel came over most nights to go through a plan with her, to work on her image and they got talking. He was nice. Cersei could use some nice in her life,’ Brienne said. ‘And people who are there for her. She had me, but it’s not like she was going to cry on the shoulders of Tywin or Tyrion.’ Jaime heard the words Brienne didn’t speak today, which was a testament to how far their friendship had come; that Jaime, on the other side of the world would have been the natural choice, but he hadn’t been here. Barely even called to check in, assuming his sister’s golden existence could never be touched, or that Cersei could handle it if it was. ‘Things happened, and they were dating. He took her on dates, nice simple ones, pizza in the park, or drive in movies. Stuff that Cersei never got to do.’ Novelty. Cersei had spent her life being treated like a Queen – and although she wouldn’t accept anything less, someone acting like she was a normal human would be an experience. ‘He proposed, and he was sweet. She couldn’t say no without breaking his heart, and she’d had three other marriage proposals from others that she’d truly loved, and that had come to nothing, so why not settle for him?’ Of course. His sister wasn’t getting any younger, and after what he’d learned over the last couple of days, Jaime thought she probably wanted children.
No wonder she’d eloped with Euron; she really wasn’t leaving anything to chance or time.
‘And no-one advised her against it?’ Jaime asked. ‘My father? Addam?’ He swallowed. ‘You?’
‘Your father demanded that she call the whole thing off, and say it was a joke that Tyrion had leaked to the press. Addam called her 70 times a day for two weeks and she refused to pick up. And I...liked seeing her happy.’ Brienne said. ‘It’s her life. She knows what she wants and I trust her.’ She looked up then, meeting Jaime’s eyes before her gaze travelled down to his dress. ‘Mostly. I told her people wouldn’t be happy, but people weren’t happy with her previous choices either, and I lost most of my standing after she made me laugh by saying she liked to keep things in the family.’ Jaime’s stomach swooped as a shadowy memory formed at the edge of his brain, but he pushed it back into the box it stayed in.
‘Because that was what she told everyone after father signed her,’ Jaime said, and Brienne murmured in agreement.
There was silence for a little while as they continued to sign CD’s, both of them looking up every now and again to make sure they had been left alone, although they’d see anyone entering from the staircase opposite and hear the ding of the lift before anyone stepped onto the floor.
At one point Jaime lost his train of thought again, as he noticed that Brienne was softly nodding her head in time to the muted music, and then he had to spend two minutes trying to fix the pen mark he’d made on the CD cover, turning it into some kind of deformed heart.
‘You really do love my sister,’ he commented after a while.
‘You sound surprised,’ Brienne said.
‘She’s not easy to love,’ he replied. ‘I’m her brother, and I say that with love. She’s a difficult woman.’
‘Yes,’ Brienne said, a smile curving her cheeks, and stopping Jaime’s heart for a second. Bathed in the glow of neon signs above them, her face flashed different colours. ‘Cersei isn’t easy. And she does everything in her power to test my patience and my loyalty and my sanity on a daily basis. But I’m not easily swayed.’
‘No,’ Jaime said, staring at this woman beside him, who’s patience and loyalty and sanity and love he wished he could win. ‘I don’t imagine you are.’ She looked up then, their eyes meeting in the darkly lit room, and Jaime hated that he didn’t know what she was seeing when she looked at him; was it him, Jaime Lannister, the guy she’d built a tentative friendship with over seven days; or was it his sister, who’s face he currently wore?
He couldn’t dwell on it, or he’d drive himself mad. ‘You know her well,’ he said, breaking whatever he thought, hoped or imagined was building between them.
‘I know everything about her,’ Brienne said. The shadowy memory tried to form in Jaime’s mind, but he banished it as usual. It didn’t often creep up on him now days, and most times he almost forgot it had happened.
‘Well,’ he gave a throaty laugh, glad he didn’t have to use Cersei’s tinkling simper for once, ‘not everything.’
He expected Brienne to come back at him, listing things they both knew about his sister, but she stayed silent; Jaime put his pen down once more, turning fully in his chair to look at his sister’s assistant.
It was the blush that gave her away, spreading as quickly as it did till it had filled her whole face, and the fact that it was a deep red colour, not the subtle pink of earlier.
‘Brienne?’ he said, but there was warning, and questions and wavering in his tone now. ‘How much do you know about my sister?’
‘Hmm?’ Brienne said, and that was when Jaime knew; Brienne had great hearing. If she was pretending not to have heard someone, it meant there was something she really, really, really didn’t want to say.
‘She told you?’ he exploded, and a pile of CD’s clattered to the floor, in turn knocking down the neat piles Brienne had been building. Jaime couldn’t find it in himself to care. If Cersei had really, truly told Brienne this one thing, this one secret in their lives that they’d sworn to each other they’d take to the grave...
Well, that was it. Not only was he going to murder his sister the minute he laid eyes on her again, his chances with Brienne were well and truly shot.
‘I don’t know what you’re talking about,’ Brienne said, getting onto her knees so she could sort the mess Jaime had made on the floor.
‘She told you about...,’ he took a deep breath. He couldn’t say the words; he couldn’t. He never had, and he never would. ‘About how we have, kept things in the family before?’ He waited for Brienne to express her bewilderment, to pretend that she didn’t know what he was talking about.
But they both made the mistake of meeting each other’s eyes, and maybe it was just because Brienne was a terrible liar, or because she hated being dishonest, but she gave a deep sigh, like the ones Jaime had first heard seven days ago and retook her seat, pulling another CD towards her so she didn’t have to maintain eye contact.
‘Yes, Jaime if you’re referring to Cersei and you taking each other’s virginity when you were seventeen, then yes, she did tell me about that.’
Jaime wanted to die.
‘It’s not quite...I mean we didn’t...it’s not like...’ Brienne had retaken her seat, but her pen was down, and she was staring at Jaime. His half-baked lies dissolved into thin air. She knew. Knew about him and Cersei and that night which they never spoke about ever. ‘How?’ he asked eventually.
‘Cersei’s bad when she’s on the champagne cocktails,’ Brienne said. ‘And she was sad. Her and Robert had just broken up, and he’d moved to America. I don’t think she actually thought he would go. I got called to pick her up from a club and bring her home, and she asked me to stay. I’d only been with her a few months at that point, and we were sitting on the sofas, not really saying much, when she came out with it.’
‘She just announced it,’ Jaime asked. ‘Just like that?’ Another stupid song played in the background, and Jaime kind of wished Brienne hadn’t turned their little skull off; anything to block out this conversation, that for some reason he was still continuing.
He was just having such a hard time believing it; that Cersei would tell anyone. That night, when it had happened, neither of them had gone to sleep afterwards, the horror creeping in pretty fast. Jaime had only gone into Cersei’s room to ask her something about a family party the week after; but his sister had been a little sad that night too, her boyfriend at the time breaking up with her because she wouldn’t put out. Both Jaime and Cersei were old enough that having sex was something they felt like they should be doing, but nobody had ever felt right to either of them to lose something they were led to believe was precious and special. As much as Jaime tried to block the memory, he could still hear his sister saying ‘the only person I’d ever really trust with this, would be you,’ and him nodding his head in agreement, as he realised it was true for him too. He couldn’t even think about doing a life event without his sister; they’d been each other’s first kisses, when they were just seven, wanting to know what it felt like to kiss someone.
And then – and this part he didn’t remember – one of them had leaned closer into the other one, and the next thing Jaime knew he was creeping out of Cersei’s bed, with her blanket wrapped around his waist, and both of them looking at each other in wide eyed horror. They’d whispered words to each other about how neither of them was to ever speak of it, and Jaime had spent the next three months trying to scrub the unclean feeling from his body. He’d also gone out and slept with the first woman he could find, and she was the one he told people had taken his virginity.
‘I think she was trying to test me,’ Brienne said. ‘She’d done several things over the course of my employment; was rude to people in front of me to see who’s side I would take; demanded things of me that weren’t my job; made me tell hotels that she needed her entire room repainted 24 hours before she was due to arrive, but that the place couldn’t smell like paint because even the whiff of it made her sick. When I didn’t even blink an eye at any of those, she started getting creative, and making up more insane things for me to do. For a while I did them, mainly because I wanted to see how far she’d make me go.’ That sounded like Cersei; Jaime wasn‘t sure he even wanted to know just what Brienne’s job had entailed in her first few months. ‘When none of that worked, I assume she wanted to tell me something so shocking that I would have to leave. Or she assumed it was too juicy for me not to try and sell the story. She could deny it of course, and really who would ever believe it? I doubt anyone would even print it, but somehow it would have gotten back to her if I ever attempted to sell it.’
Jaime signed another CD just for something to do, but his thoughts were jumbled. How could his sister have been so stupid? What if Brienne had gone to the press? They were twins, and they were close – he'd been her PR manager for years! There were plenty of photos of them at events, with their arms around each other, and looking at each other with love on their faces. It wouldn’t have been such a jump for someone to believe the story, even if there was no proof. People believe anything now days, and could pull proof when there was none. He’d seen it happen; the girl who’d supported Cersei on tour just a few years back had been accused of faking her newborn baby. Madness.
‘And you didn’t quit?’ Jaime asked. ‘How could you stay after she told you that?’
‘In truth, I’m not sure I believed her that night,’ Brienne said, sounding like she was trying hard to remember. ‘I thought she’d told me to shock me, and nothing else. I helped her into bed, and stayed in the living room all night in case she needed anything. It was only a few days later when I realised that she was avoiding looking me in the eye, or making direct conversation that didn’t pertain to my workload that I realised something was up; she was embarrassed, and there was only one thing that could make her feel like that; and it certainly wasn’t because I saw her throw up.’ The one thing in the world that would make Cersei take leave of her entire personality. ‘And when I realised that what she said might be true, it was already a week later. I didn’t have any other job to go to, and I liked working for Cersei. It’s challenging and an experience, and she quite obviously didn’t want to speak to me about it again. So I put it to the back of my mind, and we got on with things.’
‘Good for you,’ Jaime said, a sour tinge in his voice.
‘Would you rather I quit?’ Brienne asked, and he wanted to tell her that yes, he would. That way he would never have met her, and he wouldn’t be feeling so hopeless right now, his stomach wouldn’t be churning with years of regret. One stupid night over fifteen years ago was ruining something he hoped would be his future.
Damn Cersei.
‘I guess I just don’t understand how you can know something like that about a person, and not,’ he said, slowly. No need to let Brienne see what a withering mess his thoughts were; better to keep things calm. He could punch something later. ‘Don’t you think it’s disgusting?’ For a brief second, a tiny little fluttering of hope came to be. Maybe she’d say something understanding. Be kind to him, and whatever actions he’d taken in his stupid teenage years.
He really should have known better.
‘Of course it’s disgusting Jaime, you two are brother and sister!’ Her words were low this time, and he couldn’t blame her. He could only imagine the drama that would ensure if someone walked in on them now. As it was he swept an eye around, praying that nobody had accidently left a camera on them. He wasn’t sure any amount of quick thinking on either of their parts could talk them out of trouble if this conversation was leaked. ‘But, I’ve never grown up with siblings, and twin bonds can be stronger, I suppose. In a weird kind of way, it makes sense. Society has built up all these myths and expectations about losing virginity; it’s a nightmare. If – and I can’t say I ever do this – I stop and think about it, then yeah, it grosses me out.’ He waited for the crashing wave of disappointment to hit him; but it didn’t.
It grossed him out too, so much so that even thinking about this was sending shudders through him. His arms had broken out into goosepimples, and he rubbed them. ‘It’s just something that happened. And I’ve lived with the information for a few years now. Do I wish I didn’t know? Yeah, I think I could be happier not knowing. But I do. There’s no point in wishing to change things. And when I think about Cersei, or talk about her, or anything really, it’s not even in the top 500 things I think about.’
‘Okay,’ Jaime said, and he didn’t even need to look at her to believe her. This would be the end of it. Brienne knew the stupidest and worst thing he’d ever done; they’d move on from it.
‘For what it’s worth,’ Brienne said, shoving all the CD’s she’d signed onto his table as they heard the lift doors ping open, ‘it’s not in the top 500 things when I think about you either.’
Jaime felt a sudden lifting in his stomach; the weight of a thousand butterflies taking flight.