You'll Go to Hell, Corleone

"This is impossible!"

At Roose Bolton's demand, a flicker of bewilderment crossed Brienne's blue eyes, only to be replaced at once by surging fury.

She sprang to her feet so violently that she knocked over the chair behind her, sending it crashing to the floor with a dull thud.

"No! I will never stay!"

Brienne stared fixedly at Roose, her voice hoarse with agitation as she challenged him fiercely. "I am not a bargaining chip in your dealings, much less goods you can discard at will!"

"I am following Lady Catelyn Tully's orders to bring the Kingslayer safely back to King's Landing in exchange for the two Stark girls. Would you defy your liege's decision and condemn her daughters to death, Lord Roose Bolton?"

"Mind your words, my lady."

Roose Bolton's response to her accusations was remarkably calm.

He met her gaze coolly, his eyes showing none of the gravity they had held when he faced Corleone earlier. Instead, he looked at her as though she were merely a fly that would not stop buzzing.

Clearly, Roose held the heir to Tarth in little regard.

"Setting aside the fact that Lady Catelyn Tully's earlier act of releasing a prisoner without authorization was tantamount to treason, there is no honor in the promise you believe yourself to be keeping, either."

Roose stated calmly in his peculiarly icy voice, "Everything I am doing now is precisely to ensure the safety of House Stark's two young ladies."

"Do you not prize your honor above all else, Brienne of Tarth? Very well, then. Now is your chance to demonstrate your noble character."

"As long as you agree to remain at Harrenhal as a hostage, I will let Ser Jaime return to King's Landing in exchange for Lady Catelyn's two daughters."

"What do you say?"

That final question silenced Brienne at once.

She instinctively sensed that there must be some plot behind this, but he had used the very honor she upheld to threaten her with perfect precision.

If she agreed, she might very well fall into a trap, but if she refused, she would leave herself open to accusations of being unwilling to uphold her honor and vows.

She was trapped either way.

"When interests are weighed and contested, someone must always become the price being weighed."

Seeing Brienne fall silent, Roose raised his eyebrows and continued to fan the flames. "Your anger is like the winter sunlight of the North. It seems fierce, yet it cannot melt even the slightest trace of ice or snow."

"To tell you the truth, Lady Tarth, no matter how angry you become or how unwilling you are to accept reality, you cannot change the decision Lord Corleone and I have reached."

At those words, Brienne's body jolted, as though she had suddenly understood something.

She turned her gaze aside and saw that Corleone, concealed in the shadows, had remained silent throughout. He seemed to have no intention whatsoever of speaking, evidently having already tacitly accepted Roose's actions.

So that was it!

Fury blazed within Brienne.

This vile, cunning farmer, utterly devoid of honor, was making a naked exchange of interests with Roose Bolton!

And she was the sole bargaining chip in this transaction to be discarded at will, ensuring that Jaime Lannister, the truly valuable prisoner, could be returned safely!

"I knew it!"

Believing she had grasped the crucial point, she gritted her teeth and accused him furiously, "Open your eyes and take a good look, Kingslayer. This is the 'friend' you trust!"

"Trading my freedom for your safety-this is the 'business' he planned all along!"

Before she could say more, however, Roose waved a hand lightly. Walton immediately stepped forward from behind him and, together with two guards, seized Brienne's broad arms.

"No..."

At the sight, Jaime, beside her, nearly slammed the table and sprang to his feet.

His right hand instinctively went to his waist, but unfortunately, there was neither a sword there now nor a hand to hold one.

He froze for a moment, his breathing immediately growing heavy. He glared fiercely at Walton and the others, feeling a nameless anger rise within him.

True, Brienne could be infuriatingly stubborn, and the two of them had argued many times, but throughout their journey, this woman's loyalty and noble character had filled him with admiration.

Sometimes, Jaime even felt that she was just like his younger self!

But now, her freedom was to be traded for his?

No!

Jaime would never accept it. Long ago, when he had raised his sword against Aerys the Mad King, he had killed that innocent, upright boy with his own hands as well.

How could he now watch that familiar scene unfold before him once again!

But just as Jaime resolved that he would not let them take Brienne away, even if it cost him his life, he happened to catch sight of Corleone in the shadows out of the corner of his eye.

He remained hidden in the darkness, his gaze as still as an ancient well or a deep pool. There was not a trace of panic or guilt in it, only a calm that saw through everything.

For a fleeting moment, Jaime saw Corleone's hand beneath the table press downward ever so slightly.

The tiny gesture was so quick that it almost seemed imagined.

The words Corleone had spoken to him instantly echoed in his mind: "Trust me, my friend."

Jaime drew a deep breath, seized by an immense sense of helplessness.

He loathed the feeling of entrusting his fate to another, but he knew all too well that, at this moment, acting rashly would only bring the situation Corleone had so carefully constructed crashing down.

"I've staked everything, Corleone."

Jaime's throat bobbed as he gave Corleone a long look, thinking silently, "Please, don't let me down."

"Phew..."

After an intense inner struggle, Jaime finally sat down slowly and forced a smile at Brienne with difficulty.

"Be patient, Brienne."

"Trust me."

To Brienne, however, those words sounded like a final verdict.

They were no longer the encouragement companions had offered each other throughout their journey, but the hollow reassurance of a victor who had cast aside a pawn.

Jaime gazed at her, feeling that the light of confidence shining in the eyes of this ever-passionate woman was slowly dying, replaced by utter disappointment.

Her eyes seemed to say, "I was wrong about you, Kingslayer."

That look nearly broke Jaime's heart, yet Brienne did not perceive his inner struggle. She merely turned toward the shadows where Corleone sat and left him with these final words:

"You will go to the Seven Hells, Vito Corleone."

"The gods will not forgive such conduct. You will spend the rest of your life in remorse and shame."

With that, she offered no further futile resistance.

She straightened her back, broader than that of many men, and, like a true knight, walked with heavy steps as several soldiers from the North escorted her resolutely out of the reception hall.

The door slowly closed with a dull crash, as though it had also shut away the last shred of trust in her heart for her "companions."