Author's Notes: So this setting is a modern AU where people are still Lords and Ladies and idk their government structure but highborn families are still a big deal and they are called Lords and Ladies and antiques are status symbol.

Published June 2017 on my ao3.

I promise no deaths or anyone marrying other people but still.. *sad emoji*


The annual Westeros Charity Dinner was just another event of the snobby rich highborn that Brienne hated attending for many reasons. One would have to be being thrust in the midst of a farce that most of these people actually care about social issues but it was merely a chance for each nobly born family to outdo one another in various ways. Brienne was the last of her House though and she had to bring attention to it. Evenfall Hall was the only thing left Brienne cared about.

Not entirely true, her mind whispered traitorously. It added a new reason for Brienne to dread this year's party more than the previous years. It was even worse than the year when Brienne was embarrassed by stupid men placing bets on who would fuck her.

"Wench!"

The voice was drowned out by the crowd which made Brienne think she was hearing things.

Insane as it sounded though, she hoped she was hearing things. Facing him was something she had dreaded ever since the announcement of his family's arrival.

"Brienne!"

She wasn't hearing things. That whine was as familiar to her as her favorite songs. Like his teases. His laughter. Every tone of his voice was like a secret playlist and she didn't realize it until they were apart.

Brienne had to suck her breath to divert her focus away from her current thoughts. An encounter with him would have been inevitable though and it would be rude and suspicious if she ignored him. She turned around with no grace, her expression halfway between a smile and her scowl.

"Jaime."

Her face must have looked stupid—more stupid than usual—because Jaime was laughing. He looked as radiant as ever. His suit made him look like those hot CEOs in soap operas. His golden hair was shorter than when they had last met and his face was shaven once more but his eyes were as green and twinkling as she remembered. For a moment, Brienne's longing slipped through but she managed to fix it to a glare.

"Is that how you greet me? Your best friend who you haven't seen in months? I feel like our friendship is a lie."

Me, too, she wanted to say, but it wasn't really. Jaime had been eager at keeping in touch with her. He'd make her smile, laugh, blush, even in pixels. They used to call—voice and video, but it fueled the desire she had hoped would be gone with the distance, so she was the one who slowly reduced their communication to typing. Thankfully, he never questioned her multitude of excuses for refusing to hear his voice or see him. Pathetically though, she'd sometimes unintentionally indulge him in text or chat that lasted late at night. She'd curse herself when it happened and she'd hastily greet him a goodnight in the middle of an unresolved banter.

"Brienne?" he near whispered, but his voice was barely heard above the noise and her thoughts. Brienne only managed to snap out when she saw Jaime about to reach out. She gave him a mock glare and Jaime relaxed and smiled. "You missed me."

There he was once more, teasing. She wondered if he meant that he missed her. Perhaps he did, but she didn't want to dwell on it too much.

"I was thinking about how I'm going to miss those months of silence," she said drily instead.

"Your conversation humor is improving. You really do miss me," he slyly told her.

Brienne tried to fight the smile but she couldn't lie. She truly missed him and was glad to see him despite her anxiety.

"Ah there it is, the smile men would kill for."

She covered her mouth with one hand and smacked him in the arm with the other.

"Shut up."

He rubbed his arm but he was grinning cheekily. She could almost think he meant the jape. She could almost think all his japes were him flirting. But she knew whose smile Jaime would really kill for.

"There you are, brother!"

Speaking of...

"Sister," Jaime called out. His gaze tore from her to look behind him. Brienne's ecstasy immediately crashed, leaving her cold and hollow. Cersei moved beside her brother. She looked as equally beautiful as her golden twin in every way—flowing golden locks, piercing green eyes, and a face of a lion. Her delicate arm slipped around his with ease. Brienne noted the possessive clutch and Brienne's lips tightened to a stiff polite smile.

"I was just catching up with Lady Brienne here," Jaime said, gesturing to Brienne. Cersei flashed an equally polite smile, but unlike Brienne's stiff one, Cersei's was more natural but predatory.

"Lady Tarth, charming to see you here," Cersei greeted and Brienne was tempted to snort. She was about as charming as a brick. "But I'm afraid the program is starting soon and there are seating charts."

Straight to the point and not even a handshake—there was Cersei's disgust.

At least Jaime tried to make himself look sad to leave her.

"Oh uhm..." He looked to Cersei and she shot him a glare in return. Jaime looked dejected as he looked back to Brienne. "...I guess I'll catch you later."

"Lovely meeting you Lord and Lady Lannister," Brienne said rather coldly. She wasn't sure what she was mad about really but she internally regretted her display of emotion. Meanwhile, Cersei might have looked shocked but it was quickly hidden back into her schooled highborn expression for Brienne to really tell.

She merely bowed at each twin in turn and quickly spun on her heels and headed to the tables for the Stormlands.

"Come on, Jaime," Cersei hissed beside him, urgently pulling him toward the Westerlands' table.

His sister managed to turn him around pretty easily but Jaime couldn't help but nearly break his neck to turn back, hoping to glimpse even Brienne's back. It seemed that the crowd easily swallowed the tall giantess.

...o0*O*0o...

As soon as Brienne's bladder gave her a chance to excuse herself from talking with Lord Estermont, she fled to the elevator. She still had to go back to the party and was afraid she'd never leave her room so she opted for the second floor bathroom which was most likely empty. It was inconvenient but her reasons for doing so are admittedly superficial. It would mean standing next to those perfect girls fixing their hair and make-up then taking mirror selfies, trying to find their perfect angle and lighting. She would be that out-of-place photobomber that looked hideous in any angle and any lighting—except maybe if there was none. Even if Brienne actually spent more on a stylist this year and even agreed to wear a satin blue sheath dress that went a little above her knees and a pair of stiletto heels, she'd never be like one of these women.

Unfortunately, the elevator was out of order so she had to take the stairs, regretting her stilettos with every step.

Luckily, the bathroom wasn't far off. It was down a corridor next to the stairs heading up. She immediately went inside, thankful to find it empty.

When she went out of the stall, Brienne washed her hands, trying hard to ignore her reflection but it was inevitable when there was one mirror in front and another beside her showing her full body.

Having other beautiful women standing next to her in a mirror was a huge blow of the truth about her body but being alone with a mirror was a different set of torture. At least the presence of other girls drowned out the voices.

Brienne scowled at her reflection. Her stylist assured her that the dress and heels made her look sexy but Brienne didn't see it. She looked like a beast in a dress. The tube only emphasized her large shoulders and arms and she didn't even have a soft shadow of a cleavage on her chest. The shortness of her dress and the heels just made her look freakishly taller than usual. All the exposed flesh was pale and freckly and generally unappealing. Her stubborn straw hair already started breaking free from the holds of gel and hairspray. Not even her make-up helped. The red lipstick only made her thick lips thicker. The blush on was stupid since she was a walking blush machine. She supposed the khol was a nice touch since she gets commended on her eyes sometimes. You have astonishing eyes, she recalled Jaime say once but quickly quelled the thought. She glared at people when she wasn't avoiding eye contact anyway so her pretty eyes weren't much of an asset.

Brienne felt tears pricking her eyes and immediately tore her gaze from her reflection. She couldn't go back to the party crying. She was already the laughing stock of Westeros. She had to show strength and whatever dignity she had left.

It didn't stop her from dashing out of the bathroom, head bowed even if there were no more mirrors about. She had been so focused on getting herself together that she crashed into people descending the stairs as she turned the corner.

"Watch it!" a voice growled.

Brienne froze.

"Cersei..." another voice scolded.

Brienne took a split second to mask her emotions before facing the couple. The twins looked like the two halves of a whole. Brienne swallowed the pang of jealousy blooming in her chest. The twins' expressions showed their true contradiction, though. Cersei was glaring. Her green eyes were wildfire—cruel, relentless, and unmanageable. Jaime was apologetic. His green eyes was a forest—soft, lush, and alive despite the storms he'd gone through.

"I'm sorry," Brienne managed to say.

Cersei looked like she was about to spout an insult but Jaime spoke first.

"Are you alright, Brienne?"

His voice was laced with so much genuine concern that it made her chest tight. His teases, mockery, and even his insults were easier to tolerate. She'd almost missed the days when Jaime was cruel to her. It was easier to think him another handsome man making a sport of her ugliness when he had been like that. But the image of his bleeding body after he had defended her against wolves was still imprinted on her mind. Then, when she listened to his tale of Aerys' obsession with obtaining dragon eggs at all costs, her world slowly flipped. And when he gave her the lost sword that had been the cause of their initial rivalry, Brienne wasn't sure if she had been immensely grateful or hesitantly shy in taking it.

"It's alright. Lannisters have enough ancient treasures to last us a lifetime. We have Widow's Wail anyway," Jaime had shrugged. While what he said was true and Oathkeeper, wielded by the legendary Warrior Maid of Tarth, was the only ancient treasure Tarth could boast, the Lannisters had spent much on the expedition for looking for the other half of Widow's Wail and based on Jaime's stories and her own short interactions, Tywin was not a lion easy to placate. Jaime must have moved all seven heavens to convince his own father to give her the precious sword.

She was certain it was just Jaime repaying a debt. After all, someone had sold her discovery of the possible location to the Lannisters. If there was any fondness for her behind his actions, it was only just a fondness, a familiarity.

"Yeah," Brienne answered more tiredly than she wanted. "Just a lot of people. Needed to get away from people for a bit."

She didn't need to ask what they've been up to. With his perfect-looking sister around his arm and his inside shirt not tucked in properly, one could've thought a kind sister was merely looking out for his unruly brother but Brienne knew better. She might've even glimpsed the end of his inside shirt peek out from the front of his black pants.

Brienne might as well been stabbed by dragonglass. He'd told her of his affair when he was nearly dead but it was different seeing it, even if it was indirectly.

"Do you want to walk with us back to the party?" Jaime offered, rather awkwardly but she knew he meant it. She wanted to scream at him to stop being so kind. Jaime wasn't perfect but she knew that beneath his veil of cynicism, he had a golden heart full of kindness and love.

Only most of that love centered on someone else.

Not Brienne.

Never Brienne.

Disturbingly, it was killing her.

Brienne gave a quick glance at Cersei and she saw her lips curl in displeasure. Thankfully, Cersei chose to withhold her tongue. Still, Brienne was clearly unwanted.

"No need, I have to get back to my room for a bit," she hastily said. Brienne was a terrible liar. Jaime knew this, even reminded her constantly. Even as he said nothing at the moment, Jaime was studying her intently, trying to pry the truth from her with his eyes.

"Alright, then," he eventually resigned but something about his expression made Brienne feel that it wasn't over. "I'll see you later."

Brienne thought his emerald eyes looked sad but why would they be? He was with the love of his life. She's only the recently upgraded best friend. Sure he'd hinted in the recent texts that they'd been fighting sometimes but Cersei had been with him his whole life. He'll always go back to her. And the proof was right in front of her. She had to leave.

"By the way, Jaime," she told him without looking back. "Your fly is open."

Brienne heard him curse and she walked faster, sparing herself from any more embarrassment.

"Jaime! Important people are waiting," Cersei urged.

"Yeah," he mumbled, carefully tucking his shirt in to make it look more presentable before zipping up his pants.

All the while, he watched the broad freckly expanse of his best friend's back.

...o0*O*0o...

Jaime and Cersei fought again as they headed back to the dinner.

"Jaime, what if she tells?" she whispered frantically.

"She's known for months now. I trusted telling her then. I still trust telling her now. Besides, people talked for years even before I told her." Jaime was trying to keep his cool. He hated it when people questioned Brienne's morals. That stupid stubborn woman was too good for the world and it being questioned by the likes of him and Cersei was an insult.

"Why do you care about that cow so much?"Cersei said vehemently. Jaime had assured Cersei time and time again that he loved her, even if she seemed to be spiraling into something Jaime wasn't certain he wanted to think about too much. He held her back every time. "She was the reason you nearly died."

He had saved her from getting eaten by a pack of wolves. It was his choice to make. Brienne didn't make it for him. Jaime didn't like the way Cersei was addressing Brienne either.

"Her name is Brienne," Jaime snapped. "And we trust each other with our lives."

Cersei's expression darkened. "You're different ever since you returned from that expedition."

It always came back to that. Jaime found it hard to believe that he and Cersei just fucked. Usually, it was the other way around. They fought, then they fucked. Perhaps she was right about him being different upon returning.

Oftentimes, they'd fight about how Jaime was paying more attention to his people in the company more than her. He couldn't help it. He'd hear that wench's stupid honorable voice when he spotted some injustice. Before, he'd accept the unfairness of the world and made his heart calloused from the sorrows clawing at it, but Brienne had shown him hope. He had wanted to blame her for everything but in truth, he admired her greatly for her principles.

Perhaps Brienne listening and believing his side of the story, that Aerys had to die in that expedition because he was leading his men to certain death, was a great factor. The man was mad and insisted they entered an unstable structure. Aerys would have collapsed a castle had he blown up a stubborn door just to look for dragon eggs. Jaime pleaded but Aerys wouldn't relent. Jaime attacked him and they struggled. It ended up with Aerys dead and Jaime left with a soiled name and rumors of the Lannisters clambering on top of a social hierarchy where not only money but family antiques are a status symbol.

Throughout his tale, Brienne had listened and after it, she said naught but her beautiful blue gaze had softened on him. Her understanding was what Jaime would tell himself that had possessed him to give Brienne the lost sword, though in truth, she did earn it since it was her that studied the possible location of the sword. It only seemed fair. Her House also had nothing compared to the Lannisters.

Also, whenever Jaime texted or called her or video called her too enthusiastically, he kept telling himself that and the fact that she was fun to tease and could actually hold her own in a banter when she got comfortable enough around him.

He missed Brienne already. She was always great at cheering him up whenever he and Cersei fought. He'd only text, "She's mad at me again. Please tell me something funny and stupid." And she'd reply, "You?". Then they'd banter into the night, his heart feeling temporarily light.

Sadly, he didn't have that luxury. He couldn't even reply to Cersei's words as they approached the party. How could Cersei doubt his loyalty when here he was risking their reputation by entering the party together? Brienne had been right. He and Cersei were Lord and Lady Lannister, weren't they?

Sometimes, Jaime would glance Brienne before she quickly disappeared again. Sometimes, their eyes would briefly meet and he could feel something in his stomach coil when he'd see those eyes. He kept convincing himself that it was only her sapphire eyes that were astonishing and that she'd be a much more interesting companion compared to these other highborns. He amused himself with the thought of her listening to his mimicry of the other lords and ladies in attendance.

But at the back of his mind, a voice whispered like a chilly breeze that he really did miss those eyes. He had for months—along with her scowl and freckles and blush and legs.

She was mad at him for some reason though. He noticed their communication had dwindled to text and originally, he hadn't mind it at all. Jaime figured she was busy, especially with Tarth's new attraction, the legendary Oathkeeper. But seeing her now, actively avoiding him, being a scared deer or a cold wight—perhaps a wight deer, he knew something was wrong and she wasn't telling him.

And she's depriving me from all that leg she's parading around, his mind whined, followed by a familiar tightening in his pants. It wasn't the first time he had reacted like that with regards to his best friend but it still startled him nonetheless. He briefly looked at Cersei to, absurdly, make sure she hadn't heard his thoughts or notice the current state in his pants. He was thankful to be sitting down at that time, but he had to force Brienne (and her legs) out of his sight and mind and focus on keeping the fragile peace with the Westerlands Houses.

The party was over quickly and before a word could pass from his mouth, Cersei asked Tywin to take her to her room. They both wore smiles as they parted but Jaime knew from her good night that he was being dismissed coldly.

Jaime wasn't sure where to go. The thought of his room was cold and uninviting. He needed to expend his energy in other means, so he decided to walk around the resort. His sister was mad at him while his best friend was avoiding him.

This is just what I need, he screamed internally. He had been looking forward to this dinner because he hadn't seen Brienne in ages but she was distant even from their first meeting.

At the height of his frustration, Jaime found himself in the lobby of the commercial building of the resort. The floors were marble while the ceilings had large crystal chandeliers hanging above it and the centerpiece was a golden fountain. The pristine elegance didn't matter to Jaime though since he was just about ready to throw a tantrum in the middle of it when he spotted a tall blonde disappearing into a hallway. It was quick but Jaime knew those broad shoulders, straw hair, and freckled skin anywhere. She was even still wearing the same dress.

His body felt like lead, making his reaction slow, and it took him too long to start running toward the direction Brienne was headed. It wasn't too far but still far enough for her to suddenly disappear. Jaime could almost laugh at how easily this tall lumbering woman could easily blend in the crowd if she wanted to. It did not help that there was about four clubs and crowds of people.

Determined, Jaime entered the first club.

...o0*O*0o...

It was the fourth and last club Jaime entered and he was just about done with the groping and the grinding of strangers. He had never liked parties of any sort even if he understood its necessity. He had to be pleasant around people. This was no different. He'd had to dance around and flirt with women and sometimes men to ask if they've seen a tall blonde in a short sheath dress (he'd had to angle his crotch away when he mentioned the dress) but no one had seen her anywhere. Jaime braced himself for more infuriating interaction when his eyes spotted an all too familiar figure sitting at the bar. Even in the dim lighting and confusing laser lights, he knew that shape all too well. The relaxed slouch was even something he was certain of.

A smile was forming on his face and his feet were ready to run to her when he saw her throw her head back. That shape was new to Jaime. He was certain it looked like laughter. He'd never seen her laugh. It took a lot to make Brienne smile and even he'd only seen it twice. He supposed he shouldn't really begrudge her for it. He was a complete ass to her most of the time and when he'd really begun to be nicer, they'd departed. He always tried to imagine if Brienne would catch her bottom lip with her horsey teeth and her eyes would sparkle like never before. He had been overjoyed at seeing it again earlier, yet as always, Brienne hid it behind a hand then immediately leaving after.

Now, someone was making her laugh. Something ugly was clawing up his chest at the thought of a man making her laugh but he quickly swallowed it as he made a beeline to the bar.
The closer he got, the faster his heart pounded. The crowd thinned and he began to see Brienne's companion. Alarmingly, anger boiled within him when it appeared to be a man. Then it eased a little when he caught the flamboyant mannerisms. Even more alarmingly, his fury returned when he recognized the dark hair.

The bastard seemed to smell Jaime from a few feet away because his stare flitted to him at once. He was squinting and leaning his head forward a little.

"Jaime Lannister!" the man seemed to say, waving in Jaime's direction.

Jaime paused in his tracks to watch Brienne. She didn't turn around but she definitely stiffened. It prompted Jaime to move until he was in front of the two.

"Renly Baratheon," Jaime greeted with a practiced smile.

"I thought you'd be with your family," Renly shouted over the noise. Jaime was certain it was a knowing jibe but he maintained his smile.

"Thought you'd be fucking Loras by now," Jaime spat.

Renly laughed and winked. "You've got quite an imagination there, Jaime. Poor dear is sick, though. Margaery is taking care of him right now. Didn't want me catching anything. Which is why Brienne here..." Renly motioned to the direction across him. Jaime's gaze followed and he found Brienne looking at her lap. "...is my date."

At that last word, Brienne looked up. Jaime was surprised to find her face flushed. Her eyes were glassy and unfocused and she was grinning stupidly.

"Stop it, Renly," Brienne said, giggling. Since when the fuck does she giggle? "People are gonna think you're straight... or I'm a man." Brienne's positive persona briefly flickered away and Jaime noticed it even if her eyes weren't trained on him. She shrugged, hiding her insecurities. "Likely the latter."

"Oh hush, dear," Renly lightly chided her, reaching across to rest his hand on top of Brienne's. It set Jaime's teeth grinding. Brienne seemed to sober up and looked at their joined hands. She was smiling like a shy maiden. Jaime frowned at that and without thinking, he settled himself between the two, breaking their physical contact. It didn't matter if he was standing. He had to protect Brienne from her hopeless feelings.

At least that's what he told himself. Her gaze remained fixed on Renly though. Fine.

"So, you and Brienne... two Stormlanders catching up?" Jaime asked cautiously keeping it light.

"I suppose so. I found her looking alone and thought she needed company. She was the one who suggested club and alcohol." Renly directed a smirk at Brienne. "Who knew there was a bad girl underneath you, Brienne?"

Jaime was shocked. Brienne had told him she only drank alcohol in necessary social situations and not more than a glass.

"I should take you away from bad influence, Brienne," Jaime said all too casually, concealing his irritation.

"You're not the boss of me," she snapped without so much as a glance at Jaime. Then, she flinched at her own anger and quickly downed another shot.

Renly raised a brow at the scene unfolding before him.

"Worry not about her, Lord Lannister, I'm sure this small act of defiance isn't going to taint her whole being."

"I'm still as sweet as a maid, Renly," Brienne insisted with a pout.

"That you are, darling," Renly agreed.

Brienne gulped down another shot and she was giggling.

"Renly, will you be my knight?" Brienne pleaded as if she were about to swoon. "I'll just borrow you for a night." She leaned over and added in a stage whisper, "Don't tell Loras."

Renly laughed at that and Brienne was giggling that grating giggle once more.

"What about you, Lord Lannister? What brings Westeros' most eligible bachelor in this fine bar?" Renly inquired.

"Babysitting you kids," Jaime shot back.

"I think we can take care of ourselves fine, old man," Renly retorted. Jaime wasn't liking the inquisitive look.

Jaime watched Brienne wipe her lips with her sleeve. She finally had the decency to look at him, even if her eyes were more glass than sapphires.

"Renly and I are quite happy with our secret affair," she declared harshly. "I don't need you, Jaime."

It stings a bit but I'm actually not bothered anymore. I'm happy for them, Jaime remembered her telling him through videochat when Renly and Loras declared their engagement shortly after coming out. Jaime had wanted to ask her if she was okay. Brienne had always been either honest or silent. Even if she did try to lie, he would see it in her face. Now, Jaime wondered if she was a better liar than he thought.

He couldn't bring it up in front of Renly of course.

Instead, Jaime kept spitting insults at him, barely hiding his disdain, while attempting to stop Brienne from taking another shot and failing because she kept twisting his arm. Renly had been a bit oblivious to it at first, assuming it was the glib Lannister tongue, and tried to match wits with the Golden Lion of Lannister but the aura around him was getting heavier and the source was from the two blondes.

"This was fun," Renly told them with muted enthusiasm. "But I promised Loras I'd call."

"Falling in love with me already?" Brienne slurred.

Renly hopped off his seat and walked past Jaime and kissed Brienne's cheek. She blushed as red as the Lannister banners.

"You're lovely, darling," he told her with much fondness. "And I hope you find someone who falls in love with you."

Not discreetly, Renly gave Jaime a glare.

"You take care of her or I'll kill you," Renly warned.

"Renly, don't leeeeeeeeeeeave meeeee..." Brienne whined but he was walking away.

All the bubbly aura Brienne had around Renly drained away as soon as he was outside the doors.

"Brienne, what the fuck was that?" Jaime growled before Brienne could even say something.

He expected her trademark killer glare.

He was not expecting her to flinch and scrunch her face. Brienne looked like she was about to cry. Guilt hit him like a bus with all his breath was nearly knocked from his lungs.

"I'm sorry," he said, as soft as he can with all the club music to show his sincerity, but this seemed to only anger her.

"Don't—" she hissed. Brienne got off from the bar stool and he immediately caught her arm.

"Careful."

For a moment, her eyes were upon him, wide with something that sent his heart fluttering, before she scowled.

"I said, don't!" she hissed, swatting his hand away.

On other days, watching Brienne hobble like a newborn giraffe might have been hilarious but Jaime was far from amused. She took one shaky step, then another, before nearly falling forward if she hadn't gripped the backrest of a chair. Jaime hovered next to her as she groped for the backrests like a blind person to steady her as she headed toward the door.

"Brienne, you told me you were over Renly and now you're blushing and giggling like a stupid school girl?" Jaime scolded.

"It's none of your business!" she yelled, causing a guy who was seated on the chair Brienne was gripping to turn around and glare at them. They ignored him though as Brienne moved to the next chair.

"Brienne, you never lie. Especially not to me. But you've been ignoring me and-"

"What the fuck are you even doing here?" she spat, briefly touching a woman's shoulder before holding on to the backrest. Jaime was alarmed. Brienne rarely swore. "Shouldn't you be with Cer—her?"

"We fought after you left us at the stairs. She thinks you couldn't be trusted, which is stupid because I even trust you with my life," he informed her. Even furious and drunk, Brienne wouldn't dare spill his secret. That was how precious Brienne's trust was. But apparently it wasn't reciprocated. He was waiting for the anger to rise up but he was tired. All he felt was the sting of betrayal. "But it turns out you don't trust me."

At that, Brienne reached the last backrest and was still far from the door. Stubborn, she proceeded to attempt to walk by herself. As expected, she tripped and Jaime caught her just in time.

"At least let me help you," he barked. He would've cursed her heels but he'd have to remember how her legs looked good in them.

Fortunately, she said nothing as they walked toward the doors. As soon as they were in the golden light of the hall, Brienne began struggling to free herself but he held her even tighter.

"I'm not leaving you in the open like this!" he cried. Why is she acting like this? Jaime demanded answers. He recalled passing by a bathroom for the disabled and immediately dragged her to that direction.

"Where are you taking me?" Brienne asked. She sounded less slurry.

"Somewhere we can talk. Clearly you're going to be difficult so I might as well use what remains of my energy to drag you some place private. I said I was strong enough but gods, I can't take you to the next building when you're smashed, resistant, and in heels."

Jaime tried to forget how those heels made her legs look even impossibly longer as they were staggering to the bathroom. Once in front of it, Jaime kicked the door open then settling Brienne on the closed toilet before locking it. He was about to scold her that had he been other men, he would've taken advantage of her, but one glance at her slumped defeated form made him reconsider his words.

"Brienne, talk to me," he pleaded in a whisper.

She looked up and Jaime felt his heart clench. Despite the alcohol making her eyes glassy, they still shone with unparalleled brilliance. Secretly, he would even think they were more beautiful than Cersei's.

"You've always been honest with me, Brienne. Please do so now. Did something happen?" Jaime paused to slowly exhale. His throat was dry, making his voice squeakier as he continued. "Did I do something wrong?" He knelt in front of her. "Do you hate me?"

His hands reached out to her arms in desperation and her glazed eyes suddenly sparked into anger.

"I don't hate you!"

The outburst stunned him, surely, but what came next rendered him almost immobile.

After one huff, Brienne cried.

Rarer than her smiles were her tears. He had never seen her cry-not when they were dying in the middle of the forest or when she spoke of Renly and Loras' engagement. He knew underneath all that armor of a man's physical prowess laid the heart of a maiden but she never broke.

Seeing her with thick hot tears streaking down her red face, breathing raggedly as if each hiccup of breath held every sorrow of her life she withheld from the world, Jaime was compelled to give her the entire universe only so she would go back to her normal self. This was the most heartbreaking sight his eyes had ever laid upon in his life.

Without a thought, Jaime enveloped her into a hug. Understandably, she didn't reciprocate it but her face was buried into his shoulder while her large hands clutched at his jacket. In no time, his expensive suit was soaked with her tears and snot, but nothing, not even his own grief, mattered when his one true friend was a broken dam and he didn't know how to fix it.

Jaime felt useless and afraid.

"Tell me what's the problem then?" he pleaded gently.

"I don't hate you," she echoed softly, confusing Jaime for a moment before adding, "That's my problem."

Jaime stiffened. For the first time in his life, he was mute.

"I should hate you," she continued. Her voice sounded detached as if she were narrating someone else's story. It scared Jaime. "I know how appalling you can get. I know your dirty little secrets."

Her voice was beginning to shake. She was faltering.

"But I also know how kind you really are. You're better than what everyone thinks, even yourself."

Warmth bloomed in Jaime's chest at her compliment. He tried hard to subdue it but it was the sweetest thing he'd ever heard. She was being raw, sincere. Brienne was honest but this was a deeper layer of her honesty. It held her buried feelings.

"You just hide it behind all that cynicism because it's hard to be nice in a world that isn't."
Brienne paused and Jaime took the time to absorb her words but apparently, she wasn't finished.

"You're not perfect." Jaime barely heard her. "But I love you... everything about you."

Jaime's heart raced even faster. Brienne... she...

"And nothing hurts more than that, Jaime," Brienne croaked, before he could finish his thought. The way she said his name with so much vulnerability stabbed through him like icicles. The cold spread throughout his whole body. "I went with Renly and... flirted..." She seemed to vomit the offensive word. "...because I was hoping I'd spark feelings for him again. I know he'll never like me but at least it hurts less."

It wasn't about gaining Renly's affection. It was about forgetting her current one.

"You're my friend, my best friend, and that's what I hate, Jaime. I know you so well."

Jaime hadn't realized he'd been crying as well, holding her tighter with every realization, until her pause had gone for what seemed like hours. He should let her go. He was causing her pain in a way he hadn't expected, let alone thought of. But he couldn't find himself to let go.

Brienne eventually stirred in his arms and his arms were weak from the intensity of their emotions. Jaime dared to look at her. He owed her that at least. Though red-rimmed and tortured, those wide eyes were still the most beautiful he had ever seen. It was like all Seven Heavens were contained in those two blue orbs.

He cursed himself for thinking so.

"Jaime," she said quietly, like a child. "Why can't I just hate you?"

All Jaime could think of was he wished he hated her, too.