ASOIAF genderbend is always fun, but sadly quite rare. I thought I'd try it with one of the best conversations in the series. This one got away from me a little, so see the end of the chapter for a longer note. 

*

"Go back to your ale and leave us," Catelyn commanded the gaoler, taking down a nearby hanging oil lamp. The shadows jumped and flickered around the gloomy dungeon as she did so. "Ser Brien, see that I am not disturbed," The big knight nodded, moving to stand just outside the cell. 

"My lady will call if she has need of me,"

Catelyn took a breath, steeling herself, then pushed open the heavy door. It was colder in here, pitch black until she stepped in with the lantern, and smelled absolutely foul. The lamplight revealed  patches of niter on the walls, an overflowing pail in one corner and a huddled shape in the other. The flagon of wine stood untouched on the old straw underfoot. So much for that ploy.

The prisoner raised hands grey with dirt to cover her equally dirty face, the chains around her wrists clanking. 

"Lady Stark," Her voice was hoarse with disuse. "I fear I am in no condition to receive you,"

Kingslayer. 

Catelyn couldn't bear to think of the woman as anything but a murderess and a liar, for the idea that a wife and mother could do the things she had done was too much. It just seemed wrong, unnatural... She felt for the woman's children, disgraced by her actions, and her late husband. Though the gods could hardly have come up with a more absurd, mismatched pair than Stannis Baratheon and Jaime Lannister. They say she killed him too.

"Look at me, my lady," Anyone else, and Catelyn would have felt pity, even disgust, at a highborn woman being treated like a common criminal. With this one, however, her heart was hardened. 

"The light hurts my eyes. A moment, if you would," 

Jaime had been allowed near no blade of any kind after her display on the night she was taken in the Whispering Wood - her cousin Daven's crushing defeat - and her hair had grown wild and long. Hanging in unwashed tangles to below her waist, the mane of curls still glinted gold in the lamplight and made her look like the lion on her house's arms, magnificent even in chains. Her once-fine bodice and skirts were tattered rags, rotting on her body, her face was pale and wasted, yet the woman still had the nerve to be beautiful. Though her beauty did not disguise the danger.

"I see you had no taste for the wine I sent you," Catelyn said.

"Such sudden generosity seemed somewhat suspect,"

"I can have your head off any time I want. Why would I need to poison you?"

"Death by poison can seem natural. Harder to claim that my head simply fell off," Jaime squinted up at her, cat-green eyes growing used to the light. "I'd invite you to sit, but your brother has neglected to provide me a chair,"

"I can stand well enough."

"Can you? You look terrible, I must say. Though perhaps it's just the light in here," She smirked, knowing full well she herself was in a worse-looking state. "Are my bracelets heavy enough for you, or did you come to add a few more? I'll rattle them prettily if you like," She was fettered at the wrist, but not the ankle - Catelyn did not get too close for this reason, having seen the vicious way she could fight - though she could neither stand nor lie comfortably as the chains were bolted to a deliberately awkward point in the wall.

"You brought this on yourself," She reminded the woman. "We granted you the comfort of a tower cell befitting your birth and station. You repaid us by trying to escape,"

"A cell is a cell," Jaime said flatly. "Some under Casterly Rock make this one seem a sunlit garden. One day perhaps I'll show them to you," If she is cowed, she hides it well. 

"A woman chained in a dungeon should keep a more courteous tongue in her mouth, my lady. I did not come here to be threatened,"

"No?" She gained a wicked glint in her eye. "Then surely it was to have your pleasure of me? That's what they usually want. It's said that we widows grow weary of our empty beds, though I'll admit, I hardly miss Stannis from mine," But you had six of his children all the same, despite the two more with your brother. "I've never been with a woman before, but I suppose I could still service you if that's what you need. You think me a whore already, I might as well live up to my reputation. Pour us some of that wine and slip out of that gown and we'll see if I'm up to it," 

Her smile cut like a knife. Catelyn stared down at her in revulsion. Was there ever a woman as beautiful or as vile as this one? 

"If you said that in my son's hearing, he would kill you for it,"

"Would he?" Jaime tilted her head. "We both know the boy hasn't the stomach to kill a woman. Even me. I'd only have to squeeze out a few tears and beg not to deprive my children of their beloved mother. Though I don't beg, so you might have got me there,"

"My son may be young, but he has honour. The fact you deem an unwillingness to kill women a weakness is very telling," The woman smiled again at that.

"Did the old Kings of Winter hide behind their mothers' skirts as well? My boys would rather die than use me as a shield, all four of them," She looked away slightly, tone neutral. "More's the pity," She has four sons. What must it be like, to bear the shame of having a mother like her? Though by all accounts, Joffrey is a monster too.

"I grow weary of this, my lady," Catelyn said sharply. "There are things I must know," 

"Why should I tell you anything?" The idea seemed to amuse her.

"To save your life,"

"You think I fear my own death?" She gave a slight scoff.

"You should. Your crimes will have earned you a place of torment in the deepest of the seven hells, if the gods are just," Treason, incest, adultery, murder, the deaths of kings and children.

"What gods are those, Lady Catelyn?" Her tone was sardonic. "The trees your husband prayed to? How well did they serve him when my brother took his head off?" Jaime gave a chuckle. "If there are gods, why is the world so full of pain and injustice?"

"Because of men like your brother... and women like you,"

"There are no women like me. There's only me. What other woman can claim to have killed a king?"

There is nothing here but arrogance and pride, and the empty courage of a madwoman. They did say she was half-mad, unstable, unreasonable. I am wasting my breath with this one. If there was ever a spark of decency or kindness or honour in her, it is long dead. 

"If you will not speak with me, so be it," Catelyn snapped. "Drink the wine or piss in it, my lady, it makes no matter to me," Her hand was at the door when the woman spoke.

"Lady Stark," The abrupt change in tone had her turning around. "Things go to rust in this damp. Even a lady's courtesies," Jaime smiled again, so disturbingly sweetly that it took her somewhat by surprise. She can be so lovely, when she tries to hide the fact her soul is ugly and twisted. "Stay, and you shall have your answers... for a price,"

"You have no shame. Captives do not set prices,"

"Oh, you'll find mine modest enough. Your turnkey tells me nothing but vile lies, and he cannot even keep them straight. One day he says Cersen has been flayed, and the next it's my six year old daughters," Her tone was carefully even, and Catelyn quashed the twinge of sympathy she felt. "Answer my questions and I'll answer yours,"

"Truthfully?"

"Oh, it's truth you want?" Her eyes sharpened. "Be careful, my lady. Tyrion says that people often claim to hunger for truth, but seldom like the taste when it's served up."

"I am strong enough to hear anything you care to say,"

"As you will, then," She smiled slightly at that, as though she'd love to prove her wrong, and knew exactly how to do so at that. "But first, if you'd be so kind... the wine. My throat is raw," Catelyn moved the cup and flagon closer. "Sour and vile," Jaime swallowed. "But it will do," She leant back against the wall and drew her knees up to her chest, seeming not to care that a great deal of her bare leg was exposed through a tear in her skirts, and stared at her. "Your first question, Lady Catelyn?" Not knowing how long her compliance would last, Catelyn wasted no time. 

"Is Cersen Joffrey's father?"

"You would never ask unless you knew the answer,"

"I want it from your own lips,"

"Joffrey is Cersen's," She shrugged. "As is Myrcella. The others are clearly Baratheons, should you wish to cause more trouble there," Baratheons, aye, but by Stannis or Robert? Jaime gave the hint of a warning look there, despite her deliberately light tone. Catelyn got the impression that she had only admitted to that much because everyone here knew the truth already. 

"You admit to being your brother's lover?"

"I've always loved my brother, and you owe me two answers. Do all my kin still live?"

"Ser Daven got away in the Whispering Wood, though you know that already," Surely the sting of her own cousin abandoning her had to hurt the woman in some way, but she only stared, appearing unaffected. A good mask, or empty inside? "Ser Stafford Lannister was slain at Oxcross, I am told,"

"Uncle Dolt, my father called him," She was still unmoved, her words callous. "It's my children who concern me, them and my brothers. As well as my lord father,"

"They live, all of them," But not long, if the gods are good. Catelyn immediately felt a stab of guilt at that thought, regretting hoping for the death of another woman's children, even a woman like this. Joffrey was a monster, that was undeniable, but she had met six more of Jaime Lannister's eight children, on the visit to Winterfell. 

The eldest girl Helia had been rather like her mother, proud, fierce and sharp, but lacked Jaime's characteristic arrogance and deliberately offensive bravado. Two years younger, Arthur was as cocky as many eleven year old squires were prone to be, but had the skill at arms to back it up, and a sharp sense of humour that had even had his cousin, the sullen Prince Lyonel smiling. Myrcella was sweet and bold, a perfect lady just like Sansa but precocious and witty, and the youngest boy, Steffon, reminded her of Bran, clever and gentle, though much more well behaved. The two little twin girls were terrors, but Catelyn could not help but think of Arya when she remembered them, wilful and dauntless. And though she had never met the other boy, Helia's twin Orryn, by all accounts he was intelligent, measured and dutiful. How could a woman as hateful as her raise children like that?

"Ask your next," Jaime drank some more wine, and Catelyn wondered if she would dare answer her next question with anything but a lie. 

"How did my son Bran come to fall?"

"My brother flung him from a window. I watched," 

If I had a knife, I would kill you now. Then Catelyn remembered Sansa and Arya, prisoners in the hands of this woman's wicked brothers. Her throat constricted as she replied.

"You have children of your own, a son the same age as Bran. They played swords together in the yard. Your brother was a knight, sworn to defend the weak and innocent, and he too has his own children,"

"Your boy was weak enough, but perhaps not so innocent. He was spying on us," Her words were callous as ever, but for the first time there seemed something faintly resembling regret in the woman's eyes. It only infuriated Catelyn more.

"Bran would not spy,"

"Then blame those precious gods of yours, who brought him to our window and gave him a glimpse of something he was never meant to see." Jaime's voice sharpened, and any regret, barely there as it was, was gone in an instant.

"Blame the gods?" Catelyn said, incredulous. "Your brother's was the hand that threw him, whilst you stood and did nothing. You meant for him to die,"

"I seldom allow children to be flung from towers to improve their health. Yes, we meant for him to die," The woman held her stare. "Though tell me, my lady, if there was a secret that a boy of seven could spill, which would ensure not only you and your beloved Ned lost your heads, but also your eldest son and sweet little daughter Sansa, leaving your other children shamed, orphaned and despising you both, what would you have done?"

"Don't," Catelyn breathed, furious, not even wanting to think of her answer. "Don't compare your perverse sin with your own brother to my marriage. Don't even try to justify the atrocity you did. You meant for him to die to hide your filthy secret, and when he did not, you gave your cat's-paw a bag of silver to make certain Bran would never wake,"

"Did I now?" She took a long swallow of wine. "I won't deny we talked of it, but you were with the boy day and night, your maester and Lord Eddard attended him frequently, and there were guards, even those damned direwolves... It would have required cutting through half of Winterfell. And why bother, when the boy seemed like to die of his own accord?"

"If you lie to me, this session is at an end," Catelyn showed the woman her damaged hands. "The man who came to slit Bran's throat gave me these scars. You swear you had no part in sending him?"

"On my honour as a Lannister,"

"The honour of a murderous whore is worth less than this," She kicked over the waste pail. Jaime backed away from the spill as far as her chains would allow. 

"I may indeed have shit for honour, I won't deny it," Her eyes were dark. "But as my glowing reputation should tell you, I have never hired anyone to do my killing. I didn't earn the title of murderess for nothing. I didn't pay anyone to kill Aerys. Believe what you will, Lady Stark, but if I had wanted your Bran dead I would've approached him myself with a friendly smile, a gentle hand, put him at ease, then stabbed him in the heart with a golden dagger before he knew what was happening," The sickness in Catelyn's stomach evidently showed in her expression, as the woman smiled humourlessly. "Yes, you can understand why we didn't go through with that particular plan,"

Gods be merciful, she's telling the truth. Catelyn didn't know if it disturbed her to see such darkness in another woman, or comforted her somewhat to know even a mother such as the Kingslayer had not sunk so low as to coldly order the murder of a boy a year younger than her own youngest son. 

"If you did not send the killer, then your brother did," 

"If so, I'd know. Cersen keeps no secrets from me,"

"Then it was the Imp," Jaime's eyes narrowed at that. Tyrion mentioned she was the only one who showed him any kindness in his childhood... Lover to one brother, mother to another. It was odd. Catelyn couldn't imagine the woman before her being kind or tender to anyone, but she remembered brief flashes of Jaime from Winterfell, how she acted around her children, fond smiles, laughter, indulging the younger ones in their childish games.

"Tyrion is as innocent as your Bran," The woman said. "He wasn't climbing around outside of anyone's window, spying,"

"Then why did the assassin have his dagger?"

"What dagger was this?"

"It was so long," Catelyn held her hands apart. "Plain, but with a blade of Valyrian steel and a dragonbone hilt. Your brother won it from Lord Baelish at the tourney on Prince Lyonel's name day," The woman's expression tightened at the pointed mention of Lyonel, but Catelyn wasn't even planning on getting into the rumours that the Lannister twins had arranged the death of Robert Baratheon's only son to get their vile incest spawn Joffrey named as heir. 

Jaime, clearly, had other ideas.

"I know what you think of me, but I had no part in the death of Ashara's son," That seemed to have touched a nerve, more than anything else she had said so far. "But believe what you like," She poured, drank, poured, and stared into her wine cup. Catelyn marvelled at her unrestrained thirst for drink, but was hardly about to object to anything loosening her tongue. The woman seemed to shake herself out of a wave of brooding then, smiling abruptly, disarmingly. "This wine seems to be improving as I drink it. Imagine that. I seem to remember that dagger, now that you describe it. Won it, you say? How?"

"Wagering on your brother when he tilted against the Knight of Flowers," But that wasn't right... She corrected herself. "No... was it the other way?"

"Tyrion always wagered against Cersen in the lists," Jaime said with a regretful smile. "A matter of principle. But that day, Cersen unhorsed Ser Loras. A mischance, for certain. I love my brother, but he was never a jousting prodigy like the Knight of Flowers. Whatever Tyrion wagered, he lost... Though that dagger did change hands, I recall it now. Robert showed it to me that night at the feast. His Grace loved an excuse to paw at me, especially when drunk. And when was he not drunk?" She gave a wry smile. 

He was your husband's brother, your close friend's husband, yet you lay with him anyway... though why should that be a surprise? You killed Aerys, Stannis, Robert, Lyonel, even the little princesses, and likely talked Queen Ashara off that tower too.

But Tyrion Lannister had said much the same thing. Catelyn had refused to believe him, Petyr had sworn otherwise... And yet Jaime and Tyrion told the same story, having not seen each other since leaving Winterfell more than a year ago. 

"Are you trying to deceive me?"

"I've admitted to watching Cersen shove your precious urchin out a window and not lifting a finger to stop it - what would it gain me to lie about this knife?" She tossed down another cup of wine, eyes slightly bleary, and Catelyn began to fear the woman may become too drunk to question if she kept this up much longer. "Believe what you will, I'm past caring what people say of me. And it's my turn. Who's at war with who? Has Lord Baratheon taken the field?" Lord Baratheon, as in Orryn, your second son, the rightful king.

"He has not," Catelyn replied. 

"Now there's a niggardly response. Give me more than that, or your next answer will be as poor,"

"Orryn Baratheon remains in Storm's End as its lord," She said grudgingly. "There seems to be a suspicious silence on that front. Renly is dead, murdered at Bitterbridge, but your son gave no sign that he would join him or fight against him,"

"A pity," Jaime said. "I rather liked Renly. He was more fun than my dear late husband, and unlike Robert, I rarely wished to stab him. Until his pitiful attempt to steal the Stormlands from my son, that is. What side have the Tyrells taken?"

"Renly, at first, likely the only reason he tried to press his claim ahead of his elder brother's four sons. Now, I could not say," That had been, and still was, a worry. It looked increasingly likely that the Tyrells would go over to the Lannisters. The woman clearly realised this, as she smiled.

"Your boy must be feeling lonely,"

"Robb was sixteen a few days past... A man grown, and a king. He's won every battle he's fought,"

"He hasn't faced my father yet, has he?"

"When he does, he'll defeat him. As he did your cousin," It was beyond Catelyn why Jaime had been at that battle at all, or even why she was travelling with her cousin's forces in the first place, rather than remaining safe in King's Landing with her son Joffrey. 

"He took Daven unawares," She narrowed her eyes. "A craven's trick,"

"You dare talk of tricks? Your brother Tyrion sent us cutthroats in envoy's garb, under a peace banner,"

"If it were your daughter Sansa in this cell, wouldn't her brothers do as much for her?" Sansa only has one brother now. Jaime drank more wine. "Tyrion is clever enough to realise that your son will never consent to ransom me. I never know a woman could be worth so much. It must hurt, your own son choosing to deny you your daughters, given that I should have been exchanged for the both of them weeks ago," She smiled once more. Catelyn could not deny it. 

"Robb's bannermen would sooner see you dead. Rickard Karstark in particular. You slew one of his sons in the Whispering Wood,"

"The one with the white sunburst, was he?" Jaime shrugged. "They attacked me first, my lady, as you saw. Dragged me off my horse, and thought I'd come quietly. If it had been a man who killed them, would Karstark be as angry, I wonder? It must be shameful to die at a woman's hand, even an infamous murderess like myself, but I killed them in fair fight, in the heat of battle. Any knight would have done the same,"

"How can you compare yourself to a knight, when you have forsaken every vow you ever swore?" She was Aerys' ward, a guest in his home, friends with his wife and Elia Martell, yet seduced him and stabbed him in the back. She broke her marriage vows at every opportunity, lied and cheated and killed.

"So many vows... they make you swear and swear, and pile on expectations too," Jaime refilled her cup. "Obey the king, and your father. Obey your husband and have his children. Love your brother. Respect the gods. Be sweet, strong, meek, and know your place. Be humble, beautiful, willing yet chaste. It's too much. No matter what you do, you're forsaking one vow or the other." She took a gulp of wine and closed her eyes, leaning her head back against the mildewed wall. "I've learned to judge a man for the vows he keeps, my lady, rather condemn him for those he breaks. I might have broken my marriage vows, but look at me, here, now. Could you ever say that I would not move heaven and earth for my family?"

"One kept vow does not cancel out a broken one, Kingslayer,"

"Kingslayer," She pronounced carefully. "And such a king he was!" She lifted her cup mockingly. "To Aerys Targaryen, the Second of His Name. And to the blade that opened his throat. It was a sword, you know. People like to believe the more sordid version, that I stabbed him in the back with a dagger having weaselled my way in his bed," She gave a harsh laugh. "He'd likely have preferred it that way, and called me Joanna all the while,"

As she laughed, swaying where she sat, Catelyn knew the wine had more than done its work; Jaime had drained most of the flagon, and was extremely drunk. 

"Only a woman like you would be proud of such an act,"

"I told you, there are no women like me. And like I said, what other woman can claim to have killed a king? Answer me this, Lady Stark - did your Ned ever tell you the manner of his father's death? Or his brother's?"

"They strangled Brandon while his father watched, and then killed Lord Rickard as well," Why was she asking about this now?

"Killed, yes, but how?"

"The cord or the axe, I suppose,"

"No doubt Ned wished to spare you," Jaime wiped her mouth. "His sweet young bride, if not quite a maiden, though I can hardly judge. Well, you wanted truth. Ask me. We made a bargain, I can deny you nothing,"

"Dead is dead," I do not want to know this.

"Brandon was different from his brother, wasn't he? He had blood in his veins instead of cold water. More like me," She leaned forward with a sharp, almost wolffish grin. "Perhaps we should've been betrothed instead,"

"Brandon was nothing like you," Jaime Stark. The thought was disturbing. Memories of the woman flirting with Ned during the king's visit to Winterfell flashed through her mind, even know she believed Jaime had merely been doing it to taunt her. Was that it, though? It hadn't seemed that spiteful... more friendly, almost... and she barely looked twice at me. 

One sin Catelyn and all reasonable people knew Jaime Lannister was innocent of was being the mother of Ned Stark's bastard, but the absurd rumours persisted nonetheless. In truth, it seemed like the rumours believed every man the Kingslayer had ever spoken to had been her lover at some point, and surely that was not true. It's her own fault. She ruined her own reputation, no one did that for her. 

| ... text cut, see notes at end ... Jaime describes how Aerys brutally killed Brandon and Rickard Stark ... |

"As for Lord Rickard, the steel of his breastplate turned cherry-red before the end, and his gold melted off his spurs and dripped down into the fire. I stood at the foot of the Iron Throne beside men in their white armour and white cloaks, filling my head with thoughts of Cersen. Poor Ser Areden Sarsfield looked ready to pass out. He was only three years older than me, I believe, newly made a Kingsguard. After, I heard Gerold Hightower himself take the boy aside and say to him, 'You swore a vow to guard the king, not to judge him.' That was the White Bull, an honourable man, all agree,"

"Aerys..." Catelyn could taste bile at the back of her throat. The story was so hideous she suspected it had to be true. She speaks of it like it were yesterday. Does she truly remember all that, or did she embellish? "Aerys was mad, the whole realm knew it, but if you would have me believe you slew him to avenge Brandon Stark..."

"I made no such claim. The Starks were nothing to me. I will say, I think it passing odd that I am reviled by so many for my finest act. At Robert's coronation, I saw them staring at me, heard the whispers that I'm half-mad, wanton and treacherous. Those whispers were there at my wedding, there in every room I enter. As for your Ned, I must say I was rather surprised when he was one of the few to not judge so harshly. But then, he was there in person, and saw me sat on Robert's throne, pale-faced with a bloody sword across my knee, no treacherous dagger in sight. I think Ned Stark loved Robert better than he ever loved his brother or his father... or even you, my lady. He was never unfaithful to Robert, was he?" She gave a drunken laugh, and from this woman in particular, it stung. "Come, Lady Stark, don't you find this all terribly amusing?"

"I find nothing about whores like you amusing, Kingslayer,"

"That name again. You're all the same. You call me a whore, but Littlefinger had you first, didn't he?" Her smile was designed to cut deep. "Until my wedding day, I had never laid with any man but Cersen, no matter how Aerys groped and leered, no matter how many rumours went flying about me and Arthur Dayne, or Rhaegar, or Sarsfield, or whoever bloody else. Then there was Stannis, my lawful husband. And as for Robert," She paused, anger clouding her drunken eyes. "Well, I could do nothing about that,"

That seemed to be another sore point, and for whatever reason, Catelyn found she couldn't make a cruel remark on it. 

"Had it been my choice, I would have been the definition of faithful and never have left my brother's side. But we don't always get a choice. You wouldn't understand, you're an honest woman," Her tone was mocking. "I've learnt that most honest women are just lucky. What would you have done if, say, your dear husband's old friend Robert took advantage of you being drunk and alone? He's the king, and a big man, your blows bounce off his chest like nothing and, should you tell anyone, your husband would behead you himself,"

"Ned would never - " Catelyn stopped herself but had said too much, as Jaime's smile grew.

"Ned would never," She said carefully. "I don't doubt it. You blame me in part for your husband's death, but you forget, he was my ally in screaming at Robert about the Targaryen children, the only one who didn't look at me like I was moments away from my wits snapping. Ned would never... but Stannis would," Catelyn took a step back. 

"Brien,"

"It's luck of the draw, Lady Stark," Jaime upended the flagon, legs spread on the floor with all the grace of a tavern wench as she leaned against the wall. A trickle of wine ran down onto her face. "And you still don't believe a word I say. Kingslayer. Murderess. Whore. I've heard it all before, but had any of those actions been my brother's, he'd be praised as a hero,"

Brien stepped inside the cell. 

"You called, my lady?" Catelyn held out her hand.

"Give me your sword," 

*

So in this AU Jaime married Stannis after the rebellion, who was given Storm's End, whilst Robert married Ashara Dayne. Cersen married Lysa Tully before Harrenhal, having not joined the Kingsguard; he was Master of Laws for some time before Robert's death, and is now Joffrey's Lord Regent.

Children of Jaime and Stannis (though Joffrey and Myrcella are Cersen's): Joffrey (14), twins Orryn and Helia (13), Arthur (11), Myrcella (10), Steffon (8) and twins Argella and Roanna (5). Ages are from the start of AGOT, so by the time of this scene they're slightly older.

Children of Robert and Ashara: Lyonel (died at 13), Maris (died at 10) and Cassana (4).

Children of Cersen and Lysa: Tychus (15), Joanna (14), Leila (13), Genalyn (7), (and many miscarriages in between)

I understand that much of this text is straight from the book A Clash of Kings (so credits to GRRM). If there is any problem with this at all, please let me know and I will take it down immediately. I tried to change the original text where I could, as well as trim it down and cut out sections that didn't serve the purpose of demonstrating female Jaime's character. 

I might leave this as a stand-alone bit of fun, or continue this as a story; I have the whole backstory leading up to this point (hence some of the references to events like Stannis' death), along with the ASOS chapters after this too, with Lady Jaime and Ser Brien. So please comment where you think this work should go. Thanks for reading.