Short note before I begin - those of you who are squeamish at graphic descriptions of pain may wish to skip Brienne's chapter after the second paragraph. I will post a less detailed summary of it in the end notes for you.

Jaime

"What have you done?" Jaime shouted in anguish, slamming his fist down on the table in the White Room, looking furiously at Cersei; he'd never felt this much hatred for another person aside from Aerys.

"She tried to escape, we can't be seen to let things go. We're Lannisters and we have a reputation… Or perhaps you'd forgotten that?" Cersei's voice was like a knife through Jaime's heart, reminding him of the madness and greed of the family he'd dedicated his life to protecting. He closed his eyes, remembering with a pang how hopeful he'd been a few hours ago when Brienne had left with Sansa. It must've happened soon after that, and yet Cersei kept it a secret until all the guests had left, until she had Jaime all to herself. She wanted to torture him with this knowledge, see him react… I must not break, I need to stay strong for Brienne's sake.

"And Brienne? What did you do with her after you murdered a little girl right before her eyes?"

"That traitorous cow is rotting in the black dungeons."

"The dungeons? Brienne is a highborn lady! At the very least she deserves a tower cell!" Jaime screamed, outraged.

"At the very least she deserves an execution!" Cersei screamed back, with equal vehemence, "She has committed treason against your king, perhaps you'd forgotten."

"I have forgotten nothing, but she deserves a fair trial. I have travelled with her, she has saved my life on many occasions, house Lannister owes her a debt; we can't just leave her there."

"Believe me, Jaime, I have no intention on just leaving her there. That's merely a fitting place for her to reside until I can decide on exactly what her punishment should be."

"Cersei, sister, please-"

"I have to admit, Jaime," she interrupted him, "I have never seen much intelligence from the woman, so am very curious as to how she managed to plot this escape without help. I plan on asking her soon, and am very interested in what she might have to say. Anyway, I'll leave you. No doubt, as Lord Commander of the Kingsguard, you must be very concerned about how easy it was for her to steal Sansa Stark away. It's lucky that the City Watch were paying enough attention to the outer perimeters of the Keep." Cersei flashed him a malicious smile, and then left him, closing the door silently behind her.

"AAAARGH!" Jaime smashed his fist against the wall, before reeling in pain when he realised that he'd used his left arm, and the tender flesh at the end of his stump had connected with the cold hard stone. His father had given him a golden hand to attach to his left arm, but Jaime was loathe to wear it, as he felt that it made him seem pretentious, and he didn't want Brienne to think that he'd become the same arrogant man that he had been before she'd changed him into a better person.

He knew that Brienne wouldn't tell Cersei anything, and she certainly wouldn't implicate Jaime, but that just scared him more. Cersei knows I was involved, and she knows how much I care for Brienne. She's going to hurt her. The thought of Brienne being tortured for covering for Jaime made him feel sick to the core, and yet, he didn't know what to do. If he confessed his treasons, then he'd be in no position to help Brienne, and like as not Cersei would still take revenge on her anyway. He wasn't sure how much time he'd have before Cersei would do something terrible; he had to think ahead. He sat down at his table, and began to plan an escape.

Brienne

Renly. Catelyn. Arya. Sansa. The darkness extended all around her, the only light a faint candle flickering in the distance. Renly. Catelyn. Arya. Sansa. The cold chains around her wrists dug into her flesh and the wall pressing against her back was causing her to ache all over. Renly. Catelyn. Arya. Sansa. The names of all the people that she'd failed echoed inside her head, as the hours stretched on, leaving her in an ever-deepening abyss of sadness and despair. Sansa was my last chance at honour, and I failed her, like I failed everyone before her. She trusted me, and I let her down. She could still see the young girl's eyes, wide with horror before her body slumped against the ground. Brienne tried to wipe a tear from her eye, but her chains wouldn't allow her that much movement. She wondered why she'd been left down here, rather than being killed. She wasn't sure which she would have preferred. Death would be a mercy for her, she deserved it for all the lives she'd ruined; but maybe this was her punishment, this guilt, this darkness. This never-ending darkness…

The sound of approaching footsteps snapped her out of her thoughts. They were persistent, heavy, but at the same time cautious- a man's footsteps. Jaime. He'd come to rescue her, she knew that he wouldn't have left her down here. For the first time since Sansa had died she felt a glimmer of hope. It soon died when she saw the unfamiliar face that opened the door; it was a man, but it was not Jaime. An old man with tired eyes approached, carrying a bright tallow candle, which he placed on the floor in the centre of the cell.

"Brienne of Tarth," he croaked, but it was not a frail croak, rather the voice of a powerful man who had seen too much and said too little. "My name is Qyburn, the Queen Regent sent me. I am a maester, or rather, I was. Now my talents are… A little less educational."

"Why are you here?" Brienne asked him, hating the tone of vulnerability in her voice, but feeling too depressed to change it.

"Queen Cersei is very interested as to how you managed to escape. I said that I would ask you for her." He stopped talking, and rummaged around his cloak for a moment, before drawing out a sharp carving knife. It was not new, nor had it been cleaned very well, for if Brienne squinted she could make out flecks of dried blood on the blade. "Do you know what this is?" he asked her.

"A knife." She replied, confused as to his purpose. He was playing a silly little game when the last remaining Stark had been murdered just hours before. But the man gave her a queer smile, and shook his head.

"No," he replied, "This is a truth serum." He ran his finger gently over the side of the blade, almost lovingly. "Men are liars, women too, especially when asked questions that they'd rather not answer. The citadel have tried for centuries to create a potion that will force the recipient to answer truthfully, and yet none have been successful. Some maesters still try to create one, others have decided that it is impossible, but I know different. There is a surefire way to arrive at the truth, and it is not by using a potion. So this is my truth serum, and once the queen arrives, I will demonstrate how it works."

Brienne felt the tendrils of fear start to crawl through her, the cold sadness and guilt being replaced by pure, unadulterated terror. She'd seen men die in battles, and had taken a fair amount of hits herself, but this was different. This time there would be no adrenaline, no quick stab of pain before being relieved; this man meant to drag the agony out, he meant to make it last. He was going to keep hurting her until she said Jaime's name, but she knew that she never would, I must not break, I need to stay strong for Jaime's sake. The sound of Cersei's footsteps coming down the corridor made Brienne's heart start to beat rapidly, the dread rising within threatening to drown her. The blonde beauty poked her head inside the cell, before entering fully, and closing the door with a creak. Brienne had always been secretly jealous of women like Cersei for their looks, but now she was almost glad of her own ugliness. What good was it to be beautiful if you could be so cruel underneath it all? Brienne may never be beautiful, but she also knew that she would never be this cruel. I may never get to be anything again, tonight could be the night I die.

"Who helped you?" Cersei hissed menacingly, kneeling slightly to look Brienne in the face.

"Nobody." Brienne lied, with all the confidence she could muster.

"Liar!" Cersei spat, slapping Brienne sharply across the cheek. The movement stung more than it otherwise would have due to the numbness that the cold had created within her nerve endings. Her cheek continued to tingle long after Cersei's hand had disappeared, and the sound of flesh on flesh bounced around the confined walls of the dungeon cell. She turned to the old man, "Qyburn. Make her talk." He nodded and paced forward to stand above Brienne. She wasn't used to having to look up at people, but she forced herself to meet his eyes, a silent plea not to do this. If he read her expression, then he didn't listen.

She saw a flash of silver cross her eyeline before feeling an excruciating stab of agony as the sharp knife pierced the tendons of her little finger. Qyburn jerkily scraped the knife further down, tearing open the flesh as he did so. She could feel the blood running in tiny rivulets down her elevated hand, and somewhere, someone was screaming, but all that was secondary to the overwhelming pain from the trench of blood, skin, and bone that had once been her finger. Qyburn withdrew the knife and stepped back, but Brienne could still hear the screams echoing around her. After a moment she realised that the screaming person was herself, and she forced herself to stop, panting heavily as she tried to ignore the tormenting throb of her ruined appendage.

"N-no more. Please no more!" She begged, shivering as the agony coursed through her. I must not break.

"Who helped you?" Cersei asked again, and Brienne thought she heard a flicker of pity in the queen's voice. Maybe she's not truly evil after all, perhaps she's become this way because she's bitter about Jaime.

"Nobody helped me!" Brienne lied again, determined never to speak Jaime's name, no matter what.

"You are a liar, you beast, a big, fat, ugly liar. You stole my brother from me, and you turned him against us! You are a vile creature, and I will make you suffer for what you've done," Cersei turned once more to Qyburn, "I've heard that flaying can make even a grown warrior betray his secrets. I'd like to see if that's true."

Brienne was weak from the torture, and the blood from her ravaged finger was still trickling down her arm, leaving sticky streaks everywhere it touched, but she managed to shake her head violently in a pathetic attempt to stop Qyburn. It didn't work. Her world turned to blinding darkness as the knife dug deep within the flesh of her palm, and slowly peeled back the skin… And Brienne screamed.

Jaime

They came for him during the hour of the wolf. Three armoured guards burst down the door to The White Room, and yanked him up from his seat.

"What is the meaning of this?" he asked furiously, struggling in vain to throw off the men.

"Queen Regent asked to see you," one of them answered simply, letting go of Jaime to open the door which had slammed itself shut again. Jaime used the moment to his advantage, and wrenched his sword free of its scabbard, swinging it round to knock off the two men still clutching him. They backed away a step, drawing their own weapons.

"Ser Jaime, don't be a fool. Come with us," the one who had opened the door insisted, walking forward, blade in hand. But Jaime wasn't about to go placidly without a fight. They may take him, but not willingly, never willingly. I must not break. Had Brienne told them the truth? No, she was too honourable, too damned loyal, and he felt guilty for even thinking that she had. He wished that she had, he'd rather not think about what they might have done to her to try and make her confess his involvement. His apprehensions were interrupted by one of the guards lunging forwards in an attempt to knock Jaime down. Jaime quickly parried the blow with his own sword, and then it was a song of steel as all three guards charged on him. Jaime held them off for a fair few moments, but in the end it was hopeless; the space was too small, and Jaime was too tired. One of the guards knocked his sword across the room, whilst another drove his knee into Jaime's stomach. The air drained from Jaime's lungs, and he collapsed on the floor, defeated.

"Pathetic…" One of the men muttered, as he picked up Jaime, and two of them held Jaime securely against their bodies. They dragged him along the corridor, until they eventually arrived at the Maidenvault, and knocked on Cersei's door. She opened it, and looked surprised for a moment to see Jaime slumped against their shoulders, a bruise already starting to develop on his wrist, but she soon smiled at the men and bid them stand outside, beckoning Jaime into the room. He followed reluctantly.

"Dear brother," she began, and Jaime could tell by the false sweetness of her tone that it was over, "It would seem you've been a very naughty boy."

"Well, I did have an affair with the queen for a time, so-" Jaime's sarcastic response was cut short by Cersei's hand streaking out to slap him hard across the face, and he sneered at her. If these were to be his last moments, then he would make sure that she got no pleasure out of them.

"You helped that beast steal Sansa Stark. You plotted against the King you swore to protect. She told us. What do you have to say?"

"Well, at least I didn't kill him this time, so I suppose that must count as an improvement! And her name is Brienne."

"Brienne the betrayer, it would seem."

"Brienne didn't betray me. She has loyalty, Cersei, honour; a concept that you wouldn't understand." Jaime was pleased to realise that even after all of this he could still speak with pride when it came to Brienne, she could still keep him grounded.

"Enough! I've had enough. You are both traitors to the crown, and you will both suffer for your crimes. For now you can rot in the same dungeon as her… The Lannisters always win, Jaime. You would turn against your family? Well now we've turned on you." Cersei glared at him as she finished, and Jaime kept his face stoic, but inside he felt a glimmer of happiness in amongst the pain. He knew he was going to die, that much was obvious, but at least he could spend those last few moments with Brienne.

Brienne

The door to her cell swung open, and Jaime was shoved roughly inside. His right hand was shackled to the wall, whilst the stump of his left hand was hung at his side. His hair was dishevelled, and sweat clung to his brow as he lifted his eyes to stare at Brienne. 'I'm sorry' he seemed to mouth, but she was so delirious from the agony in her right hand that she could have imagined it. The guard who had brought him in exited, leaving her alone with Jaime. She wondered if she'd stopped screaming yet, it was hard to tell in amongst the cacophony of torment bombarding her brain. She met his gaze, and took a deep breath. If he was here, that meant that Cersei knew he was involved, but she hoped that Jaime didn't think that she'd betrayed him. She couldn't bear the thought of Jaime hating her.

"I, I didn't," she spluttered, blood dripping from her mouth as she spoke, the swollen lips still inflamed from where Qyburn had repeatedly punched her face. He stretched his leg out, and pressed his foot ever so gently against hers, the touch almost impalpable.

"I know," He replied, softly, and she began to weep as Jaime sang her a sad and gentle lullaby.

So, yeah, none of the cheery optimism of the last chapter :P As usual, please let me know what you thought! Also, I've entered a Jaime/ Brienne fanfic competition, and it'd mean the world to me if you could vote for 'The Way Forward', as well as 'Whatever you want to be'. Link to vote is here - ask

For those who didn't read Brienne's chapter because of the graphic pain, basic summary – torture. Lots of torture. But she didn't tell them that Jaime was involved.