NOT FIRE, NOT ICE
There is not a river wide
Not a mountain high
And neither sin nor evil
Could change how I feel inside
-:-:-:-
When at last they slowed their mount, there was no longer any sound of pursuit behind them. They had been riding for hours. Brienne finally gave in to weariness, leaning back against her companion, Jamie Lannister, and he silently drew her into his cloak.
They were fleeing Lady Stoneheart and her companions, the Brotherhood without Banners.
Days ago, when Lady Stoneheart had accused her of breaking her oath to House Stark, and of connivance with the Kingslayer, there had been nothing Brienne could say to sway her. She would have been hanged then and there had she not agreed to draw Jamie into a trap.
So she did. But it was the first serious lie of her life. She never had any intention of betraying Jamie, who had saved her own life more than once, and also given her a longsword of Valyrian steel, Oathkeeper, whose weight was reassuring in the scabbard slung around her waist.
She told Jamie the truth as she rode with him to Lady Stoneheart's camp, and he had wanted to turn back instantly, but she said stubbornly that she had to try one last time to find her lady Catelyn inside the bitter woman. Brienne wanted to tell Catelyn that she was still in her service, still searching for her daughters, and as long as there was hope that they yet lived, she would not stop until either the girls were safe or death overtook her.
Jamie cursed up a storm, and called her a fool and many other things besides, but she would not back down. He had refused to abandon her, and as they rode side by side, she could practically hear his teeth gnashing. As they neared Stoneheart's camp, she wound ropes around his arms so that he would look a hostage, though the loose knots could be instantly thrown free. She also gave him a dagger for his left hand, wondering if he could use it.
Something in her face must have betrayed her doubt, for he said curtly, "I have been training every day. I am not half the swordfighter I was before, but I can wield this."
Thus they entered the camp of the Brotherhood Without Banners. But Brienne found, to her grief, that Lady Catelyn was gone. This Stoneheart had none of the wisdom or compassion of the woman who had been King Robb's lady mother, only bitter rage and merciless vengeance. She had seen her last child cut down before her own eyes, by the Freys, with the blessing of the Lannisters. She insisted again that Brienne kill Jamie.
Something inside Brienne died when Stoneheart so ordered, though at least she was ready this time. Throughout the ride back she had been steeling herself to break her sworn oath to protect Lady Catelyn's life; she had to keep telling herself that Catelyn was long gone, Stoneheart was a different woman. And Jamie, who had only pretended to bound, swung instantly into action at her signal.
Together they fought their way out of the camp. Brienne had stabbed Stoneheart once, in the chest, and would have bent to press her forehead to the corpse if Jamie had not curved his stumped right arm around her waist and somehow managed to drag her away. Then they fled.
-:-:-:-
Not all the strength of the ocean
Not all the heat from the sun, from the sun
Now, others have tried, I just can't deny
To me you are the one
-:-:-:-
They should have returned to Jamie's own camp of soldiers and knights, but night had fallen and the wind was growing icy. Finally Jamie decreed that they would spend the night in a nearby inn and meet up with his camp in the morning.
In his arms, as they sat astride a mount, Brienne was silent. He decided to take that for assent.
During their initial flight, it was Brienne who swung to the front of the saddle and took control of the reins, for Jamie's missing hand hampered him. He simply climbed up behind her and clung on as they rode. But when she grew weary, she had dropped the reins and leaned back against him. He sensed that she was about to doze off, so he took control with one hand and began guiding the mount at a slower, safer pace.
His stump he rested in Brienne's lap, and to his astonishment she had absently taken hold of it in her sleep, with both her hands protectively curled over the poor limb. He remembered how Cersei had recoiled from the stump, disgust evident in her beautiful face at this slight on his perfection. What had been between them, if she could no longer love him without his right hand?
The inn beckoned warm as they approached. It was not a wealthy establishment, and many of its walls wanted repair, but Jamie did not sense any threat. He shook Brienne awake and they handed over the mount to the stableboy, and went inside.
The innkeeper was a plump, aging woman who eyed them nervously, but Jamie watched her and detected no hint of treachery. She seemed afraid of them. There was no mistaking the knight's build, and since word of his stump had spread there was no concealing the identity of the Lion of Lannister. She called him "Ser Jamie."
Jamie tried to put her at ease, and finally she confessed that it was very troubling to be alone, but her husband was away on a short trip and would be back on the morrow. In the meantime, she did have one room to spare, but they would have to share it.
Brienne remained quiet. Jamie thanked the innkeeper and ushered Brienne into their room, a small space with only one window and one narrow bed.
-:-:-:-
The true love is priceless
For true love you pay a price
-:-:-:-
Outside, the wind was steadily growing fiercer. It howled in the night, and shook the branches, the gale thick with snow and cold. Brienne went to a window to look outside. Riverrun, recently captured, was faintly visible in the distance. The new banners on its torchlit walls were whipped around by the wind, the Lannister lion rendered a mere splash of gold on crimson.
She felt him come up behind her. "Winter is coming," she said quietly. The words of House Stark, whom she had pledged to serve, until she broke an oath for the first time in her life. But it was not Stoneheart she thought of, not the hideous slit throat and bitter rage of a woman who had lost all she held dear.
Instead she thought of the Lady Catelyn, beautiful and proud, who had fought to save her children. She stared out into the wind and imagined she heard the howling of a direwolf, and she breathed a silent prayer for Catelyn and Robb, who had been betrayed so cruelly at the Red Wedding. She said another prayer for Sansa and Arya, the last trueborn children of House Stark. She had vowed to Lady Catelyn that she would protect her, and that she would bring her children to safety.
That second oath, she would keep. She had to. After Stoneheart, anything else was unthinkable.
Brienne felt a hand come to rest on her shoulder, and turned to face Jamie, who was studying her face. Before she had been plain, bordering on homely; now she was scarred and downright ugly. But there was no disgust in his eyes.
"You were thinking of Sansa and Arya," he said. His voice was light, but his eyes were solemn, still searching her face. "I know that stubborn look. It's the one you used to get whenever you swore you would get me safe to King's Landing."
She hesitated. Unlike him, she had never been good with words, and there were those in Tarth who used to whisper that she was simpleminded. She wasn't. She simply didn't like superfluous speech, and was determined to say only what she meant. But she wanted to show Jamie that she understood him, too. So she looked at the red-and-gold banners in the distance, then looked at the Lion of Lannister, his left hand on her shoulder, his stump resting on the windowsill.
"And you are thinking of Cersei. And Tommen. Your own duties and vows," she told him. "You are Lord Commander of the Kingsguard."
He did not so much as flinch. "It seems this is it, then. We must part ways soon."
He tossed it out so casually, but a stab of pain sliced through her. She fought to quell it. She was Brienne, Maid of Tarth, wielder of Oathkeeper, and sworn to House Stark. Winter was coming. This was no time for weakness —
"Brienne." For the first time, Jamie dropped the lighthearted tone, and seemed actually to forget about his missing sword hand, because he used his stump to touch her cheek. "Are those tears?"
"Certainly not!" she declared forcefully, blinking. "It's the wind."
For a while he was silent. His stump left her face, but she felt his hand slide down to hers, their fingers intertwining. He pressed his left thumb to her palm, caressing it lightly, and she shivered. This was not helping. Brienne pulled her hand free, about to leave him, when he moved to block her way.
"My lady of Tarth," he said gravely. "I had thought that you would always be honest."
-:-:-:-
But there's nothing can keep me from loving you
Not fire, no, not ice
Not fire, no, not ice
-:-:-:-
Jamie stared into those eyes, a capricious blue, as honest as the lady herself. She had always had a steady, bland expression on hand, never revealing any emotion. Now the scars on her face further concealed any furrowing of her brow, or mirthful twitch of her lips.
But her eyes betrayed her. Dark midnight in her fury, deep blue steel in her stubbornness, sparkling with light in her joy. Now they were sapphire pools of sorrow, and her cheeks were wet with tears that she probably didn't even feel, because of the bitter cold. He saw that Brienne was grieved.
"Very well," she said at last. "Yes, these are tears."
He tried to coax a smile back into those eyes. Grinning, he teased, "Will you miss me so much, then?"
"Yes," she said, without hesitation. "I will miss you. Jamie."
Perhaps it was his name that finally got to him. For so long she had called him Kingslayer. Was she coming, at last, to see him and not see the action that had defined his life? He would never regret killing Aereys, mad king Targaryen, for whom cruelty was but a game, and lives playthings of the throne.
"Not Kingslayer, Brienne?" he said.
"Not wench?" she asked, and he smiled. Was that wit coming from her? He was not the only one who had changed.
But if ever there was a time to be serious, it was now, facing this woman who had somehow managed to strip away all his defences. His greatest shield had always been his charm, which he used to deflect and distract all unwanted questions. Brienne, however, was tenacious in her questions, and harder to fool than most. So he fought back the automatic urge to throw up another blithe remark as armor against her searching gaze.
Instead he said, at last, "How can it be that the one truly noble and honorable act of my life is also the worst?"
She considered. "No longer," she said. "You came back for me. When I was at the Goat's mercy. Unlike when you killed Aerys, you had nothing to gain from it. It was an act of honor and valor, ser."
He couldn't help it. He smiled again. She kept doing that to him. He was a man of easy smiles and laughter, but he found there was a smile he smiled only with Brienne. "I did have something to gain," he pointed out. "You."
To his surprise, she was surprised. Those tears again. "Truly?"
What else was there to do but kiss her?
-:-:-:-
Like a hero or a champion
You are the best, you're the best
Like religion or superstition
With you I am blessed
-:-:-:-
It was the first time that Brienne, Maid of Tarth, had ever been kissed.
She was startled. Her eyes remained open as his lips sealed over hers and his arms came around her. Then she realized it was Jamie Lannister, Kingslayer, heir to Castlerly Rock, and she thought that it was worth the wait. She thought of her scarred face and muscled torso, of his stump. She could see the gold of his hair.
It was Jamie, Jamie, and he was kissing her. She had so seldom felt it in her life that it was a moment before Brienne recognized the feeling unfurling inside her as pure, simple contentment.
Then he deepened the kiss, and she didn't think of anything at all. Her eyes closed. The universe had shrunk to him and her, to where their lips met with the hunger of months, years. A lifetime.
-:-:-:-
Now the river may grow wider
The mountain may reach past the sky
And whether or not you feel same
My love shall never die
-:-:-:-
Other than Cersei, it was the first time Jamie had ever kissed a woman.
At first her lips were still, her arms remained at her sides, and he understood that Brienne was indeed a maid, new to the physical play between men and women. A strange tenderness washed over him. Brienne the Beauty, she was mockingly called. He thought of his own maimed sword arm; he was no prize either. Was this what his brother Tyrion had felt with the country maid he had wedded?
He was kissing Brienne. Cersei had been taller, at once more slender and curvaceous, with luxuriant blond hair and endless legs that he had loved to feel locked around his waist. For a lifetime he had never imagined himself with anyone but Cersei…
To push away those thoughts, Jamie tightened his arms around the woman in his arms and ran his tongue along her lips. She finally responded, parting her lips, slipping one hand into his hair and curling the other around the nape of his neck. And then there was nothing but Brienne.
She had watched without raising the alarm as Lady Catelyn freed him, then she had vowed to get him to King's Landing, and she had done everything to keep that vow. They had fought each other, and they had been maimed and wounded and beaten by others. Then they had protected each other, and grown slowly to trust.
-:-:-:-
The true love you give and take
The true love is sacrifice
But there's nothing can keep me from loving you
Not fire, no, not ice
Not fire, no, not ice.
-:-:-:-
When at last they broke apart, they were both warm and flushed, forgetting completely the bitter winds outside.
"What happens now?" Brienne and Jamie spoke the same question at the same instant. And they both fell silent.
There was so much to think about. Jamie thought of the coming winter, the rumors of Stannis abandoning Dragonstone to go to the wall and help the Night's Watch defend the realm against cold threats from the north. Then there were rumors of three-headed dragons in the East, of the last Targaryen daughter waiting to claim her throne. And in King's Landing, the Queen Regent, his sister, waiting. He had no doubt Cersei would find a way out of her current predicament, and her fury when she learned that he had not stirred himself from the riverlands to aid her would be frightening. But besides Cersei, there was Tommen; despite everything, his son.
Ice and fire, pressing in on all sides.
"There is no safe haven," Briseis said, almost wistfully.
"We end where we began," Jamie said. "We must part ways." And before her eyes shone again, sapphires wet with tears, he found himself adding, "For now."
"For now?" But Jamie didn't have to answer, for Brienne understood almost before the words were out of her lips. There was Sansa and Arya, and there was the boy king on his Iron Throne, his decimated kingdom surrounded by claimants to the kingdom of Westeros. She and Jamie had their own honor, and must attend first to their sworn duties.
But even winter could not last forever. Someday, this war would end. And someday — perhaps —
Brienne gazed at Jamie. "I will find you again," she vowed.
"And I you." He took a deep breath, thinking once more of Cersei, but somehow Brienne's scarred, homely face kept eclipsing the perfect golden beauty of his sister. He accepted the change in his heart. There was a vow he meant to say now, and he meant to keep it. Moving closer, pressing his forehead to hers, Jamie whispered, "As long as we both live, there will be no others."
That night Brienne and Jamie slept together, and sealed their vows. Their duties waited. There was no safety promised to either of them; they might never see each other again. But they this night at least was theirs, and it would always be theirs.
-END-
Disclaimer: This is a songfic; the song "Not Fire, Not Ice" and its lyrics belong to Ben Harper. Check it out on YouTube. Of course, Jamie Lannister and Brienne of Tarth belong to George R.R. Martin. They are characters in his fantasy epic "A Song of Ice and Fire." This fic is set after the fifth book, "A Dance With Dragons."