This might end up being just a one shot, but I couldn't let what happened between Jaime and Brienne pass. It was unacceptable writing and ruined all of their character development!
Brienne lay in bed, her eyes boring holes into the stone ceiling. She would not chase him. Graveling was beneath her. She was a knight for godssake! Something in her stirred and Brienne looked towards the door. He didn't even bother to shut it quietly. Perhaps...he wanted her to know?
Jaime Lannister, kingslayer and oathbreaker turned friend and lover. These were all the things he was to her. More the latter now. Brienne tossed and turned to her side, eyes glued to the door. Her eyes shut tight in frustration. Brienne let out a calming breath and pushed herself out of the bed.
Padding around the room, she found her housecoat. Tying it tight around her frame, Brienne searched for her boots. A pair were tossed aside by the hearth, but they weren't hers. Deft hands of a seasoned cobbler stitched the leather with Lannister red and gold. Brienne slipped them on. She could feel the worn impressions in the soles, too big to be comfortable for her. But, they would do in the moment.
Leaving her quarters, Brienne quietly passed through the halls. Deep snores or bubbly giggles filled the rooms as she passed. There was no sleep better or coupling sweeter than the days after a great fight. She knew of both now.
Guards at their post gave her a courteous if not inquiring nod as she passed. She obliged with one of her own. Brienne made sure to make her way to the stables by way of the kitchen. Out of the way? Yes, but it would give her cover from the prying eyes that she was sure were there. Brienne felt a pang of shame, as if she were a maiden running off to see her forbidden love. Perhaps, there was a grain of truth to the feeling? No, she mentally shook her head. She was no doe-eyed girl pining after her love. She was looking for her equal. And gods, every man that ever existed after every war that ever happened slept with whomever he wanted after his victory. So why not Ser Lady Brienne of Tarth?
Seven Hells, her title was clumsy Brienne thought to herself as the biting night air greeted her. Her eyes locked on to his greying golden head. He was saddling up his horse. She could see provisions in the saddle bags. This wasn't a midnight ride to think and clear his head.
His head perked up upon hearing footsteps approach, but Jaime continued his work diligently if not quickly.
"If you're going to ride off into the night for her, can I at least have my boots back? The castle's cobbler died in the crypts," she said dryly.
Jaime looked down at his boots on her feet, a small smile flashed across his face, "And here I thought my age was starting to catch up to me."
"You should wait until dawn, I'm not sure how you managed to ride from King's Landing to Winterfell without incident but I doubt your luck will rise to the occasion again," Brienne shifted her weight from one foot the other all while hoping to the old gods and new that her voice wouldn't break.
"Who said there wasn't an incident," Jaime met her eyes, "I may be a one-handed man, but I'm still better than most with two."
"For your sake, I hope so," Brienne replied coolly.
Jaime's eyes narrowed, "So that's it, is it? The afterglow of victory gone? We're back to being the Kingslayer, Oathbreaker...and Brienne the Beauty?"
"You must be mad to think I'm going to shed tears over you," Brienne paused to collect herself after his jab, "I may have...affections for you, but there's still a war to be had. One that you or I might not come back from. If you want to ride into the lion's maw then move aside and I'll finish the tying up the saddle."
"It's more complicated than that," Jaime moved towards her, "Cersei, she's...a disease. I cannot be cured of her. She's cruel and I've been corrupted into the same."
"Then why are you here now?" Brienne hugged herself, for warmth and strength, "Why did you ride days on end to come and fight the dead?"
"I...I don't know," Jaime's heart ached, "One moment, I'm arguing with Cersei about honoring her word to provide support and the next I'm here feeling ashamed and disgusted of myself for stepping back into Winterfell. I crippled Bran Stark for her."
Brienne's eyes widened. Jaime looked down, "I killed my own blood for her. I am rotten because of her."
"So why are you here?" Brienne insisted, "You could've been safe and warm in King's Landing hundred of leagues away."
"I've always done what I've been told ever since I could understand words," Jaime began to pace, "I was obedient to my father, the knights I served, the kings I served and even to Cersei. She claimed that even though it was by mere minutes she was the oldest and so she knew what was best."
"You weren't always obedient," Brienne said softy.
Jaime let out a short, dismissive laugh, "And what did that get me? The titles Kingslayer and Oathbreaker."
"They might not know how you helped save the realm, but I do," Brienne stopped his pacing, "So, why did you come?"
"Because...because it was right!" Jaime blurted, exasperated, "It was right and just and good. What was the point in living if the dead were coming anyway? Was I supposed to lock myself in the Red Keep with her and watch as thousands were slaughtered in the streets?"
"No, you did what was right," Brienne assured him, "You honored your oath. You're a good man."
Jaime's breath was haggard, "One good deed doesn't absolve a life of bad ones."
"That doesn't mean they condemn a life either," Brienne replied softly.
Jaime stepped back to his horse, now acutely aware of Brienne's boots pinching his feet. He was tired, still sore and bruised from the Battle of Winterfell. He felt like a walking corpse. Brienne took a half-step closer to him, "If you mean to leave, you really ought to take your boots."
"I don't even know why…" Jaime's voice trailed off as he turned around, "I've known for a long time that Cersei loves herself first and everyone else third. And yet, I go back. Everytime. Every opportunity. I don't even know I'm doing it until I'm nearly there."
Brienne could see the exhaustion in his eyes. She took him by the hand and led him a small bench by the stables. They sat next to one another, just enough space apart for them not to touch. She reached down to remove his boots, but his hand caught her own.
"Don't."
"I'm not going to keep them like some token," Brienne scoffed.
Jaime smirked, "No, I want them back. Just not now. I'd like us to be barefoot amongst other forms of undressed."
"Oh," Brienne's face flushed. She was thankful there was only a few brasiers to light the area, which were yards away. She was used to men's base babblings just not directed at her. If they were, she'd quickly show that she was not to be spoken to in such manners let alone touched. But, Jaime's words made her whole body burn.
Brienne could feel that familiar aching her belly. She quickly looked down to see his hand sliding up her thigh and under her housecoat. Brienne inhaled sharply and place her hand on his forearm just as he began to stroke her.
"Do you want to lose that other hand?" Brienne asked with a wry smile.
"If this is how I lose it, then it will be worth it," Jaime murmured against her neck.
"Not here," she whispered.
Jaime kissed her neck and then straightened up. He stood up with Brienne's eyes watching his every move. Jaime led his horse back into the stable and tied off the lead. Jaime could see the light of dawn breaking through the night sky. He knew a stable boy would be out soon to take care of the horse. Strolling back to her, Jaime offered his hand Brienne. With a strong pull, she was on her feet.
"Where to?" Jaime asked with a devilish grin.
Brienne took him by the hand and began to make their way back to her chambers. She was no longer conscious of who saw her let alone who she was with. She turned to him outside her door, "If you stretched out my boots, you owe me a new pair, Oathkeeper."
"A Lannister always repays his debts," Jaime replied innocently.
Brienne rolled her eyes, but smiled as she passed through the threshold with him.
