Game of Thrones (TV): Fanfiction: Work On That Alibi of Yours
Title: Work On That Alibi of Yours
Fandom: Game of Thrones (TV)
Rating: Mature audiences
Length: 1354 words
Characters: Jaime Lannister, Brienne of Tarth, Arya Stark, Sansa Stark
Pairings: Jaime Lannister/Brienne of Tarth
Content notes: Attempted sexual assault; Murder
Author's notes: This was inspired by a conversation that a friend and I had where I said that women always need to be ready to commit a murder. Title taken from Alibi by Dessa
Summary: Brienne receives a call from Sansa for help. She has no idea what she’s getting herself into.


Brienne steps out of the car on the cold autumn night, closing the door as quietly as she possibly can. Brienne searched the godswood, the way that her father had taught her to do during hunting trips back on Tarth. The car had stopped at the edge of the King’s Landing, right where the urban forest stretched to meet the edge of the suburbs. People rarely occupy this transitional space for long, rushing to their destination. It's the perfect place to be forgotten and stay that way.

Brienne's eyes follow Jaime as he reaches to get a duffel bag from the back of the car, his mouth set in a grim line. Neither of them had hesitated when Sansa had called in distress, yet neither of them were excited about the prospect of what would come next. There was no quick medicine for a task like this. If her guess was correct, she would have to protect the Stark girls from allowing this night to become a poison in their lives that would slowly destroy them from the inside out.

“Which way?” Jaime asks, his shoulders drooping slightly. Brienne can’t tell if this is from the weight of the bag or something else. She sends Arya a quick text.

Still on for tonight?

She and Jaime had already decided that they would all need alibis after this; they also desperately hoped that Arya was fast enough to uncover their plan. A flashlight shines to the right of them three times, then Brienne gets a response.

Sure, let me get my coat. Sansa said she’d give me a ride.

Brienne had bought the movie tickets in advance, to complete the lie. She hopes it won’t come to anyone on the Knight’s Watch checking the camera feed at the theater. None of them will be seeing a show tonight.

They walk in the direction of the flashlight, far enough into the woods that they can no longer see the road. The trees of the godswood no longer feel like a sacred space where vows are exchanged. Now their limbs stretched out menacingly, their branches transformed into claws. Brienne feels her eyes gradually adjusting to the dark as they walk, searching for forest debris to avoid, in case it makes a sound. Jaime, however, has no issues making his way through the forest, his gait almost a prowl. They’ve been dating for six months now; Brienne wonders how she’s never noticed before.

Eventually, they make out the two girls in the dark. Arya’s hair is a light shade of lavender and Sansa’s hair is a fierce blonde now. They’ll have to make sure they wrap it up before they go so as not to leave behind any DNA evidence. They’re both wearing enough makeup to look like they plan to spend the night on the town, but Sansa’s mascara is already smudged from crying and the bottom half of her face looks blotchy, like she had rubbed off her foundation, then hastily re-applied it. Arya looks determined, fingers flexing in a way that Brienne had seen in the boxing ring, almost as if she were ready to fight.

“What happened?” Brienne says.

“Why’d you bring him here?” Arya asks at the same time as Brienne.

Sansa says nothing.

“Sansa called and said something horrible had happened and she needed some help. Jaime was with me and said he could… help.” Jaime hadn’t exactly described what the help would be, outside from a bag that he kept in the car for emergencies. She had assumed it was a first aid kit and hadn’t questioned the need for a whole bag instead of a red and white box from the drug store.

All three women turn to look at him: Sansa, terrified and Arya, angry for a reason that she can’t determine.

He sets the bag on the ground, keeping eye contact with Sansa until she tugs her coat tighter around her shoulders and looks away. Then he turns to Arya, stands with his legs shoulder distance apart, arms folded across his chest. If they were anywhere else, Brienne would have teased that he looked like Tywin. Now, her brow furrows in confusion. It’s almost as if they’re communicating through gestures alone.

“Have you told her?” Jaime asks, eyes still locked with Arya’s, his voice so harsh it’s nearly a growl. Arya modifies her stance to mirror Jaime’s.

“No,” she says slowly, chin in the air, her gaze chilling. “Have you?”

They spend another moment in silence, then break eye contact at the same time. Jaime lets out a long sigh, rubs the nape of his neck. He walks back over to Brienne, letting his shoulders drop below his ears. The tension is his body has lessened, but his eyes dart back and forth, searching for an enemy in the shadows.

“Brienne, I’m going to tell you something that’s hard to believe, but we need to work fast here. In the old days, all the great houses had magic. To stay in competition with one another, they became shape shifters able to move between animal and human. The animal forms were made into house sigils. Eventually, with the dawn of modern technology, the old houses thought it best that their animal forms become the thing of legend, so as not to attract the wrong attention.”

He takes a breath, allowing the knowledge to sink in. Jaime steps closer now, his hands on her upper arms.

“The Targaryens can turn into dragons. The Baratheons become stags. The Lannister become lions - ”

“And Starks become wolves.” Arya finishes.

Brienne feels her breath catch in her chest. She looks back and forth between the two of them, searching for a lie.

“So you’re - so you’re saying that Sansa…” she trailed off. The story was too fantastical to be believed.

“I was going to meet Arya for dinner and someone, he… he attacked me,” Sansa whispers, her voice hoarse from crying and muffled by the mask. “I thought the Change had skipped me and went to Arya. It usually manifests by 16. He grabbed me by my hair and pulled me into an alley. I felt an erection through his pants and I just -”

Sansa starts crying again at that.

“He tried to hurt you, Sansa. You did nothing wrong,” Brienne assures her. She steps forward to take Sansa in her arms. Shifter or not, this is probably the worst day of her life. They’ll have to find a therapist for her. Later. Now they need to take action.

Brienne’s mind is still swirling at the thought of shapeshifters, wolves, lions, hell, even dragons. She looks at Jaime who He inclines his head toward the bag from the car.

“Arya, there are more face masks and shields here, along with gloves and a body bag. Brienne will help you pack him up and I’ll carry him to the car. If anyone asks, the three of you went to the movies, had too much to drink, and I picked you up because no one was sober enough to drive.”

Arya narrows her eyes at him. “You’ve done this before.”

It’s not a question.

“Please tell me that you still have whatever you used to wipe the blood after you attacked him,” he says instead.

Sansa slowly pulls a handful of makeup wipes from her pocket, covered in makeup and blood. Arya snatches them from her and shoves them at Jaime.

“We grabbed anything with DNA and brought it with us,” Arya replies.

“Smart girl,” Jaime said, sounding proud. “Brienne, you and Sansa go get in the car. I’ll drop all three of you at Brienne’s house and take care of everything else. The less you know about this, the better.”

“Why Arya?” Brienne blurts out suddenly. Nothing about this sounds right.

“Because Arya has done this before too. Haven’t you?”

“Not nearly as often as you have,” she replies, giving very little away.

At some point, Brienne will have to investigate her found family more thoroughly. Until then, she catalogues her questions as she and Sansa walk back to the car.