And once more I let Jaime grip a ship's railing.
The title is a reference to the lyrics of James Marsters' song Bad.
My Seven Lonely Oceans
Enjoying the breeze and tasting a hint of salt on his lips, Jaime tried to tune the rumpus of ship's life all around him out. He watched waves ripple where their vessel cut through the water and noted that it seemed to get clearer the longer their journey took. Dorne was still a good distance away. Days or weeks, he couldn't tell. So for now he focused on his surroundings and the simple joy of air, water and landscapes rushing by.
Still, Jaime's mind was drifting to thoughts of Myrcella, as it should be, since she was the sole reason for this voyage.
Jaime ignored the crew bustling about and their shouts and murmurs alike. Sometimes, one of them would strike up a sea shanty, the others seamlessly joining in, to motivate them to scrub or haul faster. Other times, they would just scream obscenities like expected of their kind. Jaime had learned to block them out when he wasn't in the mood to throw his own two scents of bawdy jokes in. The song they had started recently was merely background noise. Softer than their usual melodies, it was easy to ignore.
He kept staring at the railing, thinking about how to retrieve his daughter.
"My Bonnie lies over the ocean," drifted to his ear without being really heard.
He couldn't be reckless in his attempt to get Myrcella to go with him.
"My Bonnie lies over the sea."
His usual rescue plans were rarely without fault. He had to take that into account.
"My Bonnie lies over the ocean. Oh, bring back my Brienne to me."
Myrcella was still just a maiden, naïve and easy to fall in love. Not unlike another young woman he could remember. That plan to save her hadn't worked out without a hitch either.
"Bring back, bring back."
So long ago, and he still could remember it like yesterday.
He tensed his right forearm, from elbow to the place where it ended in nothingness. Totally worth it.
"Oh, bring back my Brienne to me, to me."
How might she have fared since then? He had neither seen her nor heard anything about her exploits since her departure to search for the Stark sisters, a new sword at her side and blue armor on her body.
"Bring back, bring back."
It had been surprisingly easy to get her measurements right, and the color scheme hadn't needed further thought put into. Her eyes were astonishingly blue, after all.
He pictured her, clear as day, naked in the bath – all the little nooks and crannies of her body he had only gazed at once and never forgotten, and her eyes shining in rightful indignation.
"Oh, bring back my Brienne to me."
He really missed her.
He sighed wistfully, which woke him up from his trance, and the first thing he saw when he looked up was new land in clear view from the deck. Soft hills of green, round slopes that looked rich in nature and perfect for running wild. And the water around it was bluer than he'd ever seen before.
Frantically trying to locate someone who wasn't inconspicuously shoving crates around, Jaime finally laid eyes on the captain. Without preamble, he halted the man just going about his business with, "Is that Estermont?" Somehow he couldn't shake the feeling that he already knew the answer and just made himself look foolish by asking. The captain's expression of amused disbelief, badly disguised as mild confusion, told him the same. "Tarth, Ser Jaime. The Sapphire Isle." And with that, he went his way and left Jaime sighing and misty-eyed behind, staring at a neat little island just because it was the wench's eponymous home.
Having walked to the end of the prow, out of the way, the captain leisurely leaned against a barrel full of probably smuggled goods. "Subtle enough for you?" he asked, holding his palm out, in which Bronn promptly dropped a few shiny coins.
The reinstated sellsword grinned crookedly as he fastened his coin pouch, full with the rest of his advance payment, back to his belt before he stole a look at Lannister, who still gripped the railing with his gaze fixed on a piece of rock like a demented idiot in love.
"Worked well enough. Now let's get back on course."
This is what happened, right?
My Bonnie lies over the ocean is an old famous Scottish folk song of which also exist a myriad of remixes, parodies and interpretations.