***
Sorry so long. I have been working on other things. I should rename the five chapters the Ballad of Brienne and Jaime. Enjoy my ending...
***
Tyrion frowned at Ser Brienne, who stood before him in her gold armor. "Well, Ser, just spit it out. You asked to speak with me about a delicate family matter, and here we are, so speak. The rest of the small council will be here soon and then we won't be able to hear ourselves think let along discuss anything over Bronn and Davos. It's been three months since our first council meeting, but I'll be happy if we can make it a year before they come to blows at the table."
Brienne put her hand on the hilt of Oathkeeper. Her face was pale, almost green. "Nothing could make me prouder than serving His Grace, but I am afraid I may not be able to serve him for much longer. At least temporarily. Depending on your thoughts. And the king's."
"What?" Tyrion said. "The appointment to the kingsguard is for life. You serve at His Grace's pleasure. I have no say in the matter. One doesn't get a reprieve from the Kingsguard, Lady Commander."
"I understand, Lord Tyrion, and this is not about my pleasure. My appointment to the kingsguard is the greatest honor and achievement of my life. I don't want to let it go. It is just that, physically, I may not be in any condition to be protecting the king," she said. She frowned, then dashing to the small potted tree near the windows, threw up into it before Tyrion could even speak.
Samwell Tarly entered the room. "Has she told you yet?" Sam asked, pouring a cup of water and handing it to Brienne before sitting in his place.
Tyrion didn't know who to see about first. "Is Ser Brienne seriously unwell? All she got out was that she might not be able to serve the king and then - well, as you see."
"This part is never agreeable, and it's lasting longer than usual, but we have no reason to believe other than it will soon be over," Sam said. "Do you need anything else, Ser Brienne?"
She shook her head and moved to her seat at the table, pouring herself more water before sitting down. "A moment, if you please," she said, collecting herself. "I don't even know how to begin again."
Sam calmly took his seat, but Tyrion couldn't help but think something dreadful was about to be laid at his feet.
Brienne began again heaving a great heavy sigh. "I am with child, Lord Tyrion. Now you tell me if I am fit to guard the king."
The wine glass in Tyrion's hand slipped through his fingers and shattered on the floor. "With? With?" was all he got out, his mouth moving but no coherent speech coming out.
Sam rolled his eyes at both of them. "Ser Brienne is quite healthy, Lord Tyrion. Her condition is temporary, and began before she was appointed to the kingsguard. She has broken no vows, as she probably had no thought for her condition when she made them. I am sure, among us here, we can find some logical outcome."
Tyrion could not believe his brother had done it again. "Fathering children seems to be the thing my brother was best at, after all."
"This wasn't meant to happen. I have never been a regular woman. I didn't even think I could, that I was - fit - in that way," Brienne said. "I - we - we should have been more careful. I will understand if I must be stripped of my cloak and position," she said. "A Lady Commander was already highly irregular."
"Let us not get ahead of ourselves," Tyrion said, his brain now digesting the information he'd been given. "As Tarly has pointed out, we have some wiggle room, if not precedent. We've chosen our king, surly we can find room for a pregnant Lady Commander of the Kingsguard. Tarly, what - how - will she be able to do her duties?"
"I would like to read more, but both times, Gilly only got really encumbered the last few weeks. I would say what she does depends mostly on Ser Brienne, other than just after giving birth while she is healing. No different than a war wound - bleeding is bleeding. After that she should be right back to fighting shape," Sam said with a smile.
"Hmm," Tyrion said.
Brienne just shook her head. "I don't know anything about babies, or children. My mother died when I was quite small. This whole thing is not what I would have chosen. I worked to put my memories of your brother away, but the world it seems has other plans. This is a disaster on many levels."
"No. No it isn't," Tyrion said, "compared to what we have all just lived through. It's just as it should be. We have all been too long at war, have overseen too many deaths. Life must follow on it's heals if the world is to go on. Jaime supported your goals, admired them. He helped where he could. I doubt he would like being the cause of the upset of your life - any more than he'd already been. There is not a man on the council that doesn't know how hard you worked to earn it. Why should this little hiccup change anything?"
Ser Brienne nodded to Tyrion. "I appreciate that Tyrion, but there is more to it than just ourselves. This will be a scandal, to be sure. Men skip away from the shame of their bastards. Women carry it with them plainly, as do the children saddled with a bastard's name."
"And you, Lady Commander," King Bran said from the doorway, Ser Podrick pushing his wheeled chair into the room, "does this baby shame you?"
They all stood at the appearance of the king. Bran regarded Brienne calmly, as he always had since asking her to be his Lady Commander. "Well, does it? You closed the book on Ser Jaime rather definitively, after you completed his page in the Book of Brothers."
Brienne blushed a bit, but said, "If I closed the book harshly, it is because no good can come of crying over the past. For myself, I feel no shame. I am used to the judgment of others and care only for my own council, Your Grace's and others that wish me well. It is the uncertainty that troubles me. This child was created on accident, but with great affection on both sides, I believe. My worry is for the child going forward."
Bran nodded. "The past teaches lessons, but if we stay there too long, it could very well trap us," Bran said softly. "So what would you do - go away for a time, keep it secret, a foster in another noble house or perhaps on Tarth? Or stay and have the baby here, in view of Westeros? Understand, either way you'll still be the Lady Commander of the Kingsguard."
Brienne nodded, saying, "Thank you, Your Grace." She sipped her water. "There is much to consider, in this new Westeros. Family names, inheritances, legitimacy."
Tyrion started to blubber, much to the surprise of the council. "Lady Commander - Brienne. Please, stay here. Your child will be my family, too. My only family. We could ask the king to legitimize the child. Boy or girl, this baby would also be my heir - the heir to Casterly Rock."
Brienne sat for a moment thinking. "This is a greater matter than one Lady Commander and one bastard child. This child has a House, perhaps even two Houses, as it has two parents. A child for a woman is not like that of a man. A woman knows she is the mother of her child, and I'd wager usually knows the father too, unless she is a - paid companion. Why can the child not use the mother's name? Especially when it's a question of inheritance among noble Houses. If a woman is the heir or sovereign, as is Yara Greyjoy, why should her children be other than Greyjoy? Will Sansa Stark, Queen in the North, give birth to aught but Starks? No offense to House Lannister, but why should mine not be Tarth?" she said as if coming to a decision aloud.
Bran looked back and forth between Tyrion and Brienne. "This may be a matter for the Hand and the Master of Laws to settle, in consultation with the Lady Commander. Questions of rightful succession are what start wars, as we have seen. Many men were lost in this War of Ice and Fire. Many noble Houses are currently left with only the female line to inherit. We can set precedence with this child, and others soon to come. As for Lord Tyrion's heir, perhaps we can shape those expectations too, by naming heirs as well as birthing them," he said.
Tyrion had collected himself during the discussion. "I see no reason this child cannot be named Tarth, at its birth. The child could be made a Lannister at some later time. We can let it be known this is so, that it is my will, as encouragement to others to do the same. I am not my father's first born, after all. In fact I'm sure the man is twisting in the Seven Hells just thinking about it."
"This sort of thing has been happening all along - Bear Island, Tarth itself, all the ladies here in Westeros left in charge of Houses great and small. There's hardly a man alive between the ages of 14 and 50. Perhaps now we can find a way to codify it," Samwell said, "for the good of the Realm."
"For the good of the Realm," King Bran said. "I think you have it now, Councilors."
***
Tyrion watched Ser Bronn sparring with his young partner at the water's edge, in the same place where Jaime had tried to relearn the skill that had made him happiest. They came here to practice left-handed, as the Great Cat loved to pretending to be Ser Jaime, survivor of the Long Night, Knight of the Bells, Broken Shield of the People of King's Landing. Although, other times the Cat was Arya Stark, stabbing the Night King to save the living. Tyrion loved to tell Cat stories about Brienne and Jaime, about other Lannisters, the Targaryens, the Queen Sansa and Arya Stark - even Jon Snow. Some of the stories were even true. The tall, slim child reminded Tyrion of Jamie. Beautiful, the Great Cat was, all blond hair and fine features and impossibly long legs for a nine year old, though with eyes of Tarth blue instead of Lannister green. Tyrion loved no one in the world more. He had been honored when Brienne allowed him to stand as foster father for the child, and not only uncle. The Great Cat was his lion.
Lady Commander Brienne came walking down the steps, watching Bronn and Cat spar, smiling. After these nine years working with Brienne, it was Tyrion's favorite smile, the one she'd given his brother, and now their child. She stood, in her tall, quiet way, and watched them finish. "Very nice. Your father would be proud. You've even gotten better about your thumb," she said.
The Great Cat leaped into Brienne's arms, kissing her everywhere. "Thank you! Thank you! Thank You! I have worked so hard on that!"
"I can see that you have," Brienne said. "And your right hand is even better. But remember, there is more to a knight than swordplay."
Cat let go of Brienne and hugged Bronn, who had joined them near the steps. "Thank you, Ser Bronn. I love fighting left handed."