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Brienne found King’s Landing to be confusing and just a little tedious. Of course Jaime insisted that after all they’d been through at the hands of Lady Stoneheart that tedious was precisely what they needed right now and so she had submitted to the quiet life as graciously as she could.
It was just that there was no place for her here. Jaime had made her head of the City Guard but the men chafed against having a woman command them. It wasn’t even as if she wanted the job, they were a bunch of ruffians and lay-abouts who had no honour. And she was a knight, not a watchman. So her Gold Cloak had quickly become largely ceremonial and one of the veterans ran the City Watch quietly in her stead.
But it made her feel a failure, a fraud in bright polished armour.
Jaime had begun to talk of making her a Kingsguard but there would likely be even more uproar over that should it ever come to pass. Until then. she had empty days with little to fill them other than training and waiting for Jaime to seek out her company.
She had no purpose here.
Right now she was awaiting Jaime in the corridor outside of the Kingsguard quarters, lurking awkwardly against the wall, feeling as if someone would tell her to move along presently. But no one else passed by, save for a rather bleary-eyed looking young woman carrying what at first glance appeared to be a bundle of blankets.
She couldn’t help a second quick peek at the woman. Her frazzled hair and a mildly manic expression were completely at odds with her expensive looking gown. Unfortunately this meant she caught the lady’s gaze.
“Excuse me? Lady Tarth isn’t it? Have you seen anyone come along here?”
“No.”
“My wet nurse went off on an errand two hours ago, she’s not returned and I just don’t know what to do, I can’t go outside to look for her it’s too cold for the baby and—“
Brienne wondered if the woman expected her to go look for her missing nurse, it wasn’t exactly what the City Watch were there for and Jaime would wonder where she’d gone. Then again the woman did seem to be very distressed. She was just about to offer her services when the woman marched right up to her “I’m sorry, would you mind just…”
To her utter horror she found a small, squirming pink bundle dumped unceremoniously in her arms. The mother smiled worriedly at her for a moment.
“I just need to find her, I won’t be a moment I promise.”
The lady fixed Brienne’s grip on the small thing but it still felt awkward, strange in her arms. It smelt vaguely of sour milk and didn’t look at all sweet, in the way she would have expected small babies too. Instead it looked rather like a grumpy old septon, all oddly wrinkled up and bright pink.
“Won’t be a moment!” the woman trilled before making a hasty dash down the corridor, leaving Brienne staring after her with a sense of growing dismay. Of all the things she’d been worried about, being handed a small wriggling babe was one that hadn’t occurred to her.
She stared down at it and it stared back up at her with a look she was almost certain was dislike. It made a little oddly low grumbling noise, its tiny face scrunching up even further.
What were you even supposed to do with them? She tried to rock her arms slightly, uncomfortably jiggling on the spot in the hope that the movement would soothe it.
“I know where you can get one of those, if you’re interested.”
She looked up to see Jaime leaning casually against the wall by the door, an infuriatingly smug grin on his features. Of course he had to appear at a moment such as this.
“I’m not. Its mother just…left me with it.”
He walked over to her and peered down at the bundle in her arms, wrinkling his nose as the little creature made a ‘blurping’ sound. A thin white liquid dribbled from its mouth to dampen the fabric of her shirt, the sour milk smell growing stronger.
“It seems to me like you want a few little Tarthlings to run around your feet and suckle at your breasts. I never would have thought it but under that dour exterior beats the heart of a nurturing mother, doesn’t it? We’ll have you in skirts and embroidering next.”
She shot him a look that she hoped conveyed if she’d had a free hand at the moment in time she would have quite happily hit him, Lord Commander or no.
“You do know how you go about making one, don’t you wench? I’d be happy to instruct you in the finer details, if not.”
He raised an eyebrow in a way that was positively suggestive and she chose to avoid his gaze, deciding if she chose not to acknowledge the fact she was blushing a deep red then it would go away. And maybe Jaime would as well.
The baby grumbled, this time followed by a solid shrieking wail, starting to beat its tiny little fists about. Brienne winced, wondering how any sound could be so piercing.
“What do I do?”
She tried to rock the child again but the wailing didn’t abate, if anything it just got louder and more persistent. Even Jaime’s amused grin faded somewhat at the intensity of the cries.
Panicked Brienne tried hand the baby to him but he hastily backed away, refusing to relieve her of it.
“You must know how to do this, you’re a father.”
“I didn’t hold them,” his eyes were suddenly shuttered, the mockery of earlier fading quickly. Brienne just continue to hold the shrieking child as far away from herself as she could without dropping it onto the flagstones. It thrashed in her grip, its cries becoming almost pained and panic squeezed her chest.
“Just…take it!”
She thrust the bundle toward him and he had no choice but to accept the screaming baby. Instinctively it seemed, Jaime folded the little creature into himself so it nestled snugly in the crook of his arm.
Abruptly it quieted, staring up at him with serious eyes and an odd little frown. Jaime was staring down at it with an expression that was almost a mirror image. Then softly he began humming a lullaby, arms rocking the little thing gently in a way hers hadn’t quite been able too. Brienne couldn’t even make out the tune, it seemed a little tone-less and droning to her but the babe seemed to like it, quietening even further in his arms.
Slowly its eyelids drooped, long dark eyelashes settle against its cheek as its breathing evened out and presently it began to very softly snore. It was almost sweet when it was asleep, tiny hands curled into little fists against the fabric of Jaime's shirt.
He looked as surprised as she was.
“What did you do?”
“I really don’t know.”
When the mother finally came back, the look of confusion on her face at seeing the Lord Commander of the Kingsguard carefully cradling and singing gently to her baby almost made the whole ordeal worth it. When he handed the baby back- it transpired it was a she and her name was Lusenda- Brienne noted a certain reluctance to relinquish his small charge.
He caught her stare and looked mildly embarrassed.
“I think I would have liked to have one of my own. Really my own.”
It must have been so difficult, she thought, watching another man raise his children. Never being able to be with them as their father.
“Maybe you still will.”
Jaime’s look was confused for a moment before it cleared into his familiar mockery.
“Are you volunteering wench? Do you mean to whisk me away to Tarth, to father tow-headed giants?”
It was probably meant to sound scornful but even to her disbelieving ears it was growing a little wistful as he continued on “I’m a member of the Kingsguard, we do not marry, we do not have children. Sorry to disappoint you, you’ll have to turn to that hedge knight that was trailing your every move.”
Brienne made a face at that and he laughed.
“Come, we have duties to attend to. This kind of talk can wait.” His hand settled gently on her elbow, urging her into walking beside him, their white and gold cloaks catching the sunlight from the windows.
“Yes,” she agreed softly “It can wait.”