Chapter 1: Of Blood and Septons
"Oh, Jaime! It's remarkably beautiful—but this is not my nameday!"
Jaime Lannister slid his arms around his lady and drew her back into his chest. He tilted his head to the side and purred into her ear. "I know today is not your nameday, my love. Today is St. Valentine's Day, and this is my gift to you." He punctuated his words with a nip to her earlobe.
Brienne turned in his arms to face him, her gift held in her hand at her side. "What in Westeros is St. Valentine's Day?"
"Tyrion told me about it—several hundred years ago, in one of the lands far across the sea, some rogue septon named Valentinus secretly married Kingsguardsmen to their ladies. He paid a bloody price for his kind disobedience."
"It is the same everywhere, isn't it? We all pay a bloody price, sooner or later. Especially the more we love." Brienne sighed. "I wish I knew what the purpose of it all was—why the Gods toy with us so."
Jaime used his remaining fingers to tip up her chin, so he could look straight into her clear blue eyes. "I have never pretended to spend any serious time contemplating the wills of the Gods—but I know this—love, true love—what I feel for you—is well worth a bloody price." He captured her lips, snaking his arms around her tighter. She began to resist out of habit but then succumbed, melting into him as much as she could as they were both of a like height and stature, and for a while, martyred septons and bloody prices drifted out of both of their minds, chased away by the very real and present heat and strength and assuredness of their embrace.
"Ow, wench! Watch where you're poking that thing!" Jamie spoke through his kiss as Brienne's new bejeweled golden dagger, still in her hand, pricked his thigh.
"I could say the same to you, ser—and your weapon is so much more dangerous."
Jaime laughed. His wench was becoming saucier by the day and he positively loved it. He caught up her right wrist with his left hand, twisting slightly so the offending blade wouldn't accidently castrate him. With his right arm he pulled tighter Brienne's body into his own, forcing her to feel the steel of his weapon against her center. He lowered his voice to the lustful, quiet register he knew made her legs weak. "I plan to show you just how dangerous my blade can be, my love—but later. Right now, I have more St. Valentine's Day gifts for you—"
"But, Jaime—"
"No protests, my lady. Soon enough we will have to pay more bloody prices. Today, at least, we are going to commemorate that old septon's sacrifice and enjoy each other's love. By the Gods, we are going to have ourselves some bloody fun." And with that, Jamie Lannister smirked cockily, kissed Brienne fully on the mouth once more, and releasing her, headed for the door.
"Where are you going? I thought you just said we were going to have fun?"
"We are," he said, his hand on the iron doorpull. "But this next portion of the day is a gift for you to revel in alone. Through that door I've had a bath prepared for you, and as much as I'd love to watch your perfect naked body get wet and warm—" he paused and swallowed, as images of a nude Brienne lounging in steaming, soapy water presented themselves in his brain. He cleared his throat. "I'm leaving. Just for a while. I've things to do. When I come back, you won't be able to get rid of me—no matter how much you might beg—and, make no mistake—" he said, winking, "I fully intend to hear you beg tonight." Jaime quickly opened the door, exited, and shut it again, leaving Brienne standing in the solar, a bit bewildered and flushed from all the heavy kissing and suggestive words.
The Lady of Tarth crossed to the large window and looked out over the sunny, changing landscape. She held up her new dagger and turned it in her hands, watching the large heart-shaped deep blue sapphires and dark red garnets embedded in the golden hilt shine in the autumn light. The blade itself was forged of blue and red precious metals that twisted around a solid core of gleaming dragonglass. Suddenly, Brienne shivered, unsure of the exact reason. Perhaps it was the sight of the dragonglass that elicited her physical response, indicating that her newly-found happiness was fated to be short-lived. Perhaps it was simply the crisp air from the window that made her shiver, reminding her that, regardless, she needed to get out of her clothes. Her garments were still damp with the exertion from her and Jaime's early-morning training session in the yard. Jaime had presented her with the gift upon helping each other out of their armor.
Brienne snapped out of her reverie at the sound of the door to the bathing chamber opening. "Your bath is ready, my lady," curtseyed a young slip of a maid. The scent of sweet milk and rose petals drifted out of the steamy room. Brienne shyly smiled, gently placed the dagger on the windowsill, and crossed into the bathroom.