Unlike with Sansa, when Brienne walked into the room, Ser Lyle and Ser Balon walked in with her. I quickly noticed why they felt the need to do so. Brienne had Oathkepper hanging at her waist, the golden lion’s head of the pommel staring at me with ruby-red eyes that reminded me a little too much of Melisandre for comfort.

  But it was no matter. I’d buckled my own sword while I was alone, which left us on equal footing in my books. That, and the two white-cloaked men flanking her, of course. I wouldn’t bet on myself in a one on one against her. She had almost half a foot on me in height and looked like she outweighed me by a factor of one and a half in pure muscle too. I did notice she wasn’t as old as I expected, as she couldn’t be more than ten years my senior.

  I smiled at that. That was useful. It meant she was inexperienced, perhaps even gullible. She had a couple of things I needed from her, and I meant to have at least one before she left here today.

  I kept smiling as we finished the formal introductions. They managed to be more stilted than with Sansa, and my family hadn’t even killed hers. Brienne had even bowed instead of curtsing, which was cute.

  I half-sat on the back of the sofa while Brienne stood awkwardly in front of me. “Ser Jaime has told me of your mission of finding and taking the Stark girls to safety,” I told her, cutting right to the chase. “A commendable, honorable effort, if I may say.”

  She kept a blank face, simply bowing her head. “Thank you, Your Grace.”

  I didn’t let her disinterest bother me. “You must be happy now that you have accomplished it, then, even if Ser Kevan had a hand in it,” I said, baiting for a reaction.

  As expected, a frown creased her face. “My apologies, Your Grace, but Sansa Stark is hardly safe here, as she wasn’t the last time she was in the Red Keep.”

  “Those were different times, under a different king.” I put a hand over my heart, always the dramatic. “I have no intention of hurting her, Lady Brienne. On my honor.”

  “No, but you will use her,” Brienne said, steel in her voice. “As will Lord Tywin and the Tyrells and everyone who can get their hands on her until she’s nothing but a sock puppet playing to someone’s tune.” She stared right at me as she said that, and I could command her for that. She was no push over to be cowed by a title or a crown.

  “I intend to name her Lady Paramount of the North,” I said in response. “What do you intend to do with her?”

  “Take her somewhere safe,” Brienne said with finality, more to herself than to me, it seemed.

  I raised an eyebrow. “Oh and where is that, Lady Brienne? Please enlighten this idiotic king.”

  She opened her mouth to speak, just to close it a moment later. I saw the way the muscles of her jaw clenched and unclenched as she glowered at me, but she did so silently. There was no answer incoming, as I thought.

  “Nothing?” I prompted, then nodded to myself. “Understand that I don’t say this out of malice, my lady.” She gave me a suspicious look and I shrugged. “It’s true, I don’t. But you must realise how foolish it is to expect to be safe on the road with her, just the two of you. You say I will use her, but what will Stannis Baratheon do if his navy catches you at sea? What will Bolton do if you travel North? What will the Freys do if they catch you in the Riverlands? At least I know that I will protect her with all the power and influence at my disposal, until she can do so on her own, in Winterfell. She will stay by my side until that happens, and I will use my own kingsguard to protect her if need be.” Drawing myself from the sofa, I looked at her seriously. “Which is why I’m offering you the position as one of my white swords, one of the seven greatest knights in the realm.”

  Brienne went slack-jawed, and even Ser Lyle looked surprised, the scales in his armor tinkling as he shifted on his feet. On the other side of the room, Balon hadn’t even blinked. He stood still as a statue, gaze as sharp as always fixed on Brienne.

  “But… but I’m not a knight,” she spluttered, looking discomfited for the first time since she walked into the room.

  “I shall make you one,” I told her, and again she went stiff at the words. “If you swear your life and service to me, on your honor.”

  I could almost see the war raging inside her mind. Both the title and position she always dreamed of achieving were offered to her, one bend of her knees away, only not under the king of her dreams. That was, until she suddenly scowled. “You are bribing me,” she said in realization, as if it was a shocking occurrence. “You know I want to protect Lady Sansa, and you’re bribing me with a knighthood and kingsguard position.” She said it like I’m insulting both the position and her at the same time and doesn’t know which is worse.

  “I would hardly call it bribing,” I said easily. “You’ve proven yourself to have all the qualities of a knight. Honor, loyalty, martial prowess. I simply have no intention of knighting someone that might prove themselves to be adversaries in the future. There are many kings out there who wish for my demise; I will not knight you just so you can run over to their camp once I turn my back.” I let her stew in that for a second. “You have a choice to make now, Lady Brienne.”

  Stolen content warning: this content belongs on Royal Road. Report any occurrences.

  But it seemed she had already made it. Her mouth was set into a thin line. “No,” she said. “I will not be strong-armed into this. I will protect Lady Sansa under her service, or own my own if she doesn’t need me.”

  I hummed, then let out a sigh. “That’s a shame,” I said. It was to be expected of her. Always the honorable knight. Perhaps I should’ve known she and I would not see eye to eye. “But I’m afraid I don’t trust strangers to protect my future Lady of Winterfell.” I folded my hands behind my back. “Your father has sat out the war for too long. I will send him a raven in the morning, informing him that his daughter is in my care, and that he shall bend the knee and provide men for his king if he wishes for her back.”

  Her eyes widened. “You can’t—”

  “But I can.” My voice was cold as ice I spoke, and I could see her taken aback by my change in tone. “I can’t treat you with velvet gloves just because I admire your character, my lady. My decisions must benefit the kingdoms as a whole, and if I can’t have the support of your father for having his daughter under my service, I shall have it for having you as my hostage.”

  Her previous scowl returned in full force, eyes narrowed to slits. But for all her straightforwardness and bluntness, she knew she had no choice here. What would she do, have a go at the king? Instead of blowing up, she took a deep breath, and her face adopted the same blank mask she had when she first arrived. “As you say, Your Grace,” she said, giving me a shallow bow.

  “Good,” I said. “You can leave your sword with Ser Lyle here, and Ser Balon will escort you to your rooms.”

  Her response was immediate. “I will not part ways with Oathkeeper,” Brienne snapped.

  I found myself chuckling. “Your sword was never yours in the first place, as it was never Jaime’s to give. Ice was taken by the Crown as spoils of war, not by the Lannisters,” I explained. “It shall be returned to the Crown today.”

  Brienne’s right hand was suddenly grasping the handle of her sword, and my kingsguard answered in kind. Ser Lyle threw me a glance, as if to say he was ready to draw on my word, but I stayed silent. My hands were still folded behind my back, but that was just because I had eased Lightbringer out of its scabbard before she even came into the room.

  Looking at the men surrounding her warily, Brienne turned in one foot. “I will be leaving, Your Grace, to the room you have assigned for me.” There was a beat of silence before she spoke again. “With my sword.”

  She started to walk away on that beat of silence, but before she had lifted a foot halfway up the marble floor, Ser Balon somehow slipped past her to block her path. His sword was already showing steel by that time anyone realized what had happened.

  I had to blink at his speed, as I hadn’t even noticed him moving. I guess that’s what happened when you were part demon.

  “You will leave here without the sword, my lady, or you won’t leave at all.” Balon’s voice came out barely above a whisper, but it set my spine straight. It was like his words carried the full weight of his conviction, and that was oh so heavy. “I hope you will make the sensible choice.”

  For a long moment, I truly thought Brienne would make a move. I saw her fingers twitch at the pommel of her sword, a bead of sweat forming at her temple, but in the end her shoulders simply slumped. Untying the belt from her waist, she shoved the still-sheathed sword to Ser Lyle before looking back at me as if asking for my permission to leave. Even after this, she still respects authority too much.

  It almost makes me pity her. She was a good person, loyal and just and all of that. I wasn’t lying when I said she embodied all the qualities of a knight. It was too bad for her that those above her weren’t good persons, myself included.

  I try my best to soften my gaze when I address her. “I hardly ever give second chances, but I will do so now. I ask that you rethink my proposal, my lady. You have until the day after my wedding to do so.” I nodded to the door. “You may leave now. Ser Balon, please escort the lady to her appropriate quarters. She is not to leave her room without an escort of at least three men. Take that as a sign of my respect for your capabilities.”

  Balon nodded, and I watched them leave with a frown marring my face. I got only one of the two things I wanted from this meeting. I doubted she would take my second offer; and when Jaime left, my kingsguard would be back to three knights for a while—four, when Ser Arys returned from Dorne.

  I had considered his demise in the hands of the Martells for a moment, but disregarded it after some thought. They had no idea I knew about Aegon and what that would mean for my future alliance with them. In fact, I wasn’t even sure that they knew of Aegon yet. And they wouldn’t kill Ser Arys even if they did, as to not alert me so soon of their treachery. Doran was a cautious man, his plans built on patience and long-term rewards. He wouldn’t pull the trigger until the conditions were right.

  That still left me with three positions to fill, positions I now had no idea who to bestow to. Ser Elwood Harte, the highest standing knight I took to the kingswood, was a loyal and reliable man, but he was more of a soldier than a swordsman.

  Sighing at just another big decision I would have to make, I came out of my thoughts to notice that I was the only one left in the room. Ser Lyle had left the sword on the sofa and gone back to his post outside my door.

  I picked the sword up, admiring the work that went into the pommel. Gaudy as it was, it was beautiful. Wanting to confirm its authenticity, I slid the blade out of its scabbard and nodded to myself. Gray and red ripples played along the length of steel, proving its sorcerous origin. Oathkeeper was a bigger sword than my own, more suited to strength than speed despite its lightweight.

  But to someone who had both… well, it was a deadly thing. The perfect weapon to protect a king. Yes. That, at least, was one less decision I had to make.

  I took the sword with me as I retired to my bedroom. Margaery had finally gone back to her own rooms, and I appreciated the chance to sleep by myself for now. I would be getting married in two days, then I would be off to war for who knows how long. I deserved some sleep.