07/08/2020, 20:14
Fandom: Game of Thrones
Summary: Implied Jaime Lannister/Brienne of Tarth; Sansa Stark protects Jaime Lannister from execution. Based on the promo for 8x02.
Words: 789
“Enough,” Jon shouted, and he stood up from his place at the table. Daenerys’s lips pursed together, but she didn’t challenge him. “I agree with you,” he said, addressing his men, “that justice should be upheld, and that justice should be met.”
Sansa found Tyrion in the crowd, standing in between Varys and Davos Seaworth, willing him to speak out. He was looking at the figure of his brother, a man he had likely deemed dead after their attack on the Lannister convoys. If he defended his brother now, his Queen would never trust him again.
“But today is not that day,” Jon said. “The dead are almost upon our door, and we can use every able-bodied man and woman.”
“Even a man without honour?” someone shouted. Sansa berated herself for being too slow to notice the speaker.
“Let him burn!”
Karsark. What she would give to shut up that insufferable man.
Brienne stood up from her place as well, something indeterminable in her gaze. “My Lords, if I may –”
“We have no time for petty squabbles,” Jon said.
At those words, the Targaryen girl stood up. “I do not think our concerns are petty, Jon Snow. Tell me,” she said. “How can we trust a man who has never honoured a single vow in his life? How can I trust the man who stabbed his own king in the back?”
“And what a king he was.” The words had left Sansa’s mouth before she had the time to reflect on them. The Northeners became quiet now that she was speaking. Their respect only spurred her on. “I’m certain many men and women remember what your father did to the people of the North. To our families. To my family.” She waited for her words to sink in, for approval to be met. She saw a few heads nod, and decided to continue. “Your father executed my uncle and his father cruelly and unjustly. The North remembers. And yet we have trusted you enough to invite your freely into our home. Would you harm that trust by defending your father? Neither of us were there, but he is not called the Mad King without reason.” Sansa’s eyes met those of Jaime, who was looking at her in shock. His face had never been hard to read, even at times he may have been trying to hide his emotions, but right now surprise was written all over his face. She let herself find Brienne in the crowd, who was still standing up. She dared a smile at her. Brienne had spoken about Jaime Lannister with respect and a measure of admiration, and Brienne was not one easily fooled. That had to count for something.
Daenerys’s features hardened further. “I am not my father. And besides, my point still stands. That man is devoid of honour. Look at what he has done to your family.”
“I don’t hear Bran calling for his execution,” Sansa shot back, “and as my brother has argued, this is not a time to be focusing on anyone’s past deeds. Unless that is what you really want. Weren’t you the one who burned the Tarlys alive? Obliterated one of the largest food resources of Westeros? Or was that your father? I can’t quite seem to remember.”
“Enough, Sansa,” Jon said. “I propose we hear what Ser Jaime has to say for himself.”
Sansa saw Jaime look at Brienne for the first time since he entered the room – no, that was impossible, he must have heard her speak before. He must have seen her. “I promised to fight for the living.” He now looked at Sansa directly, his haggard face determined. “I intend to keep that promise.”
Summary: Implied Jaime Lannister/Brienne of Tarth; Sansa Stark protects Jaime Lannister from execution. Based on the promo for 8x02.
Words: 789
A Man Without Honour
It was Bran who announced the arrival. Bran, who was so perfectly and completely calm amongst a company of fiery personalities. Their new Queen was displeased to find that Bran brought the information to his brother first and that she had to receive the news that her father’s murderer had arrived secondhand. Sansa saw the doubt in Jon’s eyes: not even her faithful brother knew whether it had been right to deliver the news to Daenerys Stormborn, who was actively calling for Jaime Lannister’s blood by now. She was not alone in this endeavour. The Northmen keenly expressed their disgust for the Lannister cripple, while Ser Jaime Lannister stood with his head bowed, not attempting to defend himself. Every now and then he would dare a short glance towards Bran. There was something sunken in his eyes that she had never seen in the golden Lannister sibling. Sansa looked sideways, to her brother, who was sitting next to her. Bran just watched. It felt like that was all he did these days.“Enough,” Jon shouted, and he stood up from his place at the table. Daenerys’s lips pursed together, but she didn’t challenge him. “I agree with you,” he said, addressing his men, “that justice should be upheld, and that justice should be met.”
Sansa found Tyrion in the crowd, standing in between Varys and Davos Seaworth, willing him to speak out. He was looking at the figure of his brother, a man he had likely deemed dead after their attack on the Lannister convoys. If he defended his brother now, his Queen would never trust him again.
“But today is not that day,” Jon said. “The dead are almost upon our door, and we can use every able-bodied man and woman.”
“Even a man without honour?” someone shouted. Sansa berated herself for being too slow to notice the speaker.
“Let him burn!”
Karsark. What she would give to shut up that insufferable man.
Brienne stood up from her place as well, something indeterminable in her gaze. “My Lords, if I may –”
“We have no time for petty squabbles,” Jon said.
At those words, the Targaryen girl stood up. “I do not think our concerns are petty, Jon Snow. Tell me,” she said. “How can we trust a man who has never honoured a single vow in his life? How can I trust the man who stabbed his own king in the back?”
“And what a king he was.” The words had left Sansa’s mouth before she had the time to reflect on them. The Northeners became quiet now that she was speaking. Their respect only spurred her on. “I’m certain many men and women remember what your father did to the people of the North. To our families. To my family.” She waited for her words to sink in, for approval to be met. She saw a few heads nod, and decided to continue. “Your father executed my uncle and his father cruelly and unjustly. The North remembers. And yet we have trusted you enough to invite your freely into our home. Would you harm that trust by defending your father? Neither of us were there, but he is not called the Mad King without reason.” Sansa’s eyes met those of Jaime, who was looking at her in shock. His face had never been hard to read, even at times he may have been trying to hide his emotions, but right now surprise was written all over his face. She let herself find Brienne in the crowd, who was still standing up. She dared a smile at her. Brienne had spoken about Jaime Lannister with respect and a measure of admiration, and Brienne was not one easily fooled. That had to count for something.
Daenerys’s features hardened further. “I am not my father. And besides, my point still stands. That man is devoid of honour. Look at what he has done to your family.”
“I don’t hear Bran calling for his execution,” Sansa shot back, “and as my brother has argued, this is not a time to be focusing on anyone’s past deeds. Unless that is what you really want. Weren’t you the one who burned the Tarlys alive? Obliterated one of the largest food resources of Westeros? Or was that your father? I can’t quite seem to remember.”
“Enough, Sansa,” Jon said. “I propose we hear what Ser Jaime has to say for himself.”
Sansa saw Jaime look at Brienne for the first time since he entered the room – no, that was impossible, he must have heard her speak before. He must have seen her. “I promised to fight for the living.” He now looked at Sansa directly, his haggard face determined. “I intend to keep that promise.”
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