"Peace, Lady Brienne, peace," I cut her off, hands raised in a placating manner. "You see, I have her in my custody, and when the time is right, I intend to return her to her family - or what remains of it, at least."
...
Brienne frowned, any trace of fury leaving her face in a flash, only to be replaced with confusion, "And you want to me to escort her?"
"When the time comes, yes. But as it is, there is nobody to return her to. I need someone to protect her in the capital, and to keep her here, in case she tries to run. She got lucky the last time she fled, that she wasn't raped or murdered, but she may not be so lucky next time."
Brienne's face darkened, "You want me to be her gaoler."
"Her gaoler and her guardian both," I corrected her. "Better you than a Red Cloak, no? And I suspect Arya would be more comfortable with you than with anyone else who may be under my command. She's quite the fighter, not unlike yourself. Cut her hair, and you could hide her as your squire. Nobody in the capital save us need ever know she is here. And you get to keep your oaths to your lady all the same."
"And for this I will be knighted?" Brienne questioned.
I shook my head, "No, my lady. You see, I plan on throwing a small tourney for my wedding. And it seems to me as though the best tourneys throughout history have always had a mystery knight..."
Brienne nodded grimly, "I see."
"I'm glad that you see, Lady Brienne, but do you agree?"
Brienne stood still, silent.
I stood from my seat with a sigh, gesturing for her to follow, "Follow me, Lady Brienne."
From my chamber we departed, walking through the twisting and winding passages of the Keep at as brisk a pace as I could comfortably manage. After so many months, I had finally begun to memorise the layout, and could quite easily lead our little party. Down from Maegor's Holdfast and through to the tower cells and all the way up again to the top cells. We made use of many of the newly-revealed secret passages, intent on evading notice whenever possible.
When we arrived, I motioned for the gaoler to unlock the gate to Arya's cell, and commanded the Red Cloaks to stand to the side.
Arya shot me a venomous look from across the cell, and stayed stubbornly silent. Her cell was a luxurious one, as per my orders, with a table and chairs and a good view of the city and ample amounts of food. I had even made sure the seamstress would dress her in something she would like, and not standard women's clothes, hence her breeches and tunic.
Still, she looked well. Her face had gained some colour, many of her smaller wounds had healed, and she looked to have gained some weight. Her hair had even grown out a little, though not enough to make her look completely like a girl.
I sat down in a seat opposite her crossing my legs and getting comfortable, Brienne staring at her with mouth agape, and Jaime watching her reaction.
"Arya?"
She shot me a sullen look, and opted for more silence.
"You wanted to make your way to Jon at the Wall, did you not?"
Her gaze suddenly locked onto mine, eyes narrowing in suspicion.
I chuckled at her reaction, "You know, he's been elected Lord Commander? Your brother has done well for himself. Play along, and I'll send you to him."
The silence dragged on for a long moment, "I don't believe you," she finally said.
I nodded, acknowledging her point. So, I tried another angle of attack, "When we came to Winterfell, what did you think of Joffrey?"
"I thought he was a little shit."
I smiled, "And me?"
She shrugged.
"Well, for what it's worth, I give you my word I don't intend to hurt you. I'm actually here to tell you that I plan to let you out of your cell."
"And Sandor?"
"He's alive. But in no condition to be wandering about."
Arya furrowed her brow, "So, I'm free to go?"
I shook my head, "No, you're still a political prisoner. At least for now, anyways. But you never struck me as the kind of girl who liked to live in a cage, no matter how gilded. And it would do you some good to stretch your legs, no doubt."
"And what's to stop me running away?" she questioned.
I gestured back to Brienne, "She is. Trust me, she's a lot more formidable under that dress than you know." She seemed to doubt my words, looking at Brienne, "And if I could find you before, when the whole realm thought you dead, and know enough about what you were doing to take the coin from you, then you can be assured I will know enough to find you again."
"How good of you to do that," Arya scoffed.
"Yes, it was." Her eyes snapped back to me, angry as ever, just as I let any hint of joviality slip completely from my tone, "And next time, I'll not be so merciful. I'll have your legs broken, so you can't run anywhere."
She sized me up with murderous intent in her eyes, quickly switching tac as her sense of self-preservation prevailed, "And you don't want anything?"
"Not quite. I will ask a small favour of you."
Arya frowned, "What favour?"
I waved my hand dismissively, "Oh, nothing strenuous. Just some letters I want you to write."
Again, Arya was silent. She was no idiot. In all likelihood, she knew what those letters would be used for. I could practically see the cogs turning in her head. Was her freedom worth potentially blackmailing her family? Was I going to keep my word? Still, I was gladdened to see that she seemed torn. She observed me in cold assessment, too jaded to be trusting, too trapped to be able to afford to be doubtful.
This would take some time. And some more convincing, but not from me. My hair was too blonde, my eyes too green.
I stood from my seat with a hefty sigh, and gestured for Brienne to sit, "Well, I'll leave you two to get acquainted. The Lady Brienne can explain the arrangements to you. I do hope you make the right decision, the both of you."
With that, Jaime and I again departed. Midway through our journey back to my office, Jaime gathered the courage to speak, "Are you sure that was wise, Your Grace?"
"Why?" I asked. "Is the Lady Brienne not to be trusted?"
"Not exactly, Your Grace. Though I think you ought to know that she doesn't exactly have the highest opinion of Lannisters."
I smiled as I opened the door to my office, "Given all the things that we've done, I'd say that's not entirely a bad thing, wouldn't you? So long as her discretion can be counted on, at any rate."
Jaime made to protest, but found himself unable to deny the truth of my words, his mouth opening and closing again as he reformulated his argument, "She's a woman of her word, but the Lady Arya..."
"Don't worry," I assured him. "I'm not fool enough to not take at least some precautions."
"What precautions, Your Grace?" Jaime asked.
I smiled, "Send for Bronn, would you?"
...
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