A.N: Thanks so much for the feedback. It is so encouraging. Here's a double update to prove it. I hope you enjoy - please leave a review if so, I love hearing from you.


Brienne

Brienne woke slowly, feeling as though she had slept deeply and dreamed well. It dawned belatedly on her that she was not alone, had not dreamed after all. Jaime was curled around her, his arm still encircling her waist, their legs tangled. His slow, steady breathing told her that he was still asleep. Brienne felt a rush of emotion swell in her chest when she thought back to how he had kissed her. She had felt so meek and inexperienced, but if he had noticed her clumsiness - and she was sure he must have done - he did not seem to mind. It was everything she had imagined it to be and more. His lips were so soft compared to the harsh scrape of his beard. To wake beside him, in his arms, made her feel almost as she had when Renly had smiled and knighted her Brienne the Blue. The way she thought she could never feel again, after he had died as she held him. And then she remembered Lady Catelyn, and the wrench of pain was made worse by her forgetting, even just for a moment. It should have been the very first thing she thought of. She lay very still and contemplated what she must do. She could not believe that Jaime's feelings for her ran deep, his affection was misplaced on her and intended for another, she knew. It stung to make herself think of the lover awaiting him in King's Landing, but it was a necessary pain. One that would make it easier to part from him when the time came. She would not allow herself to be blinded by a girlish fantasy; she was no hapless maiden and he was no golden knight fallen under her spell, wishing to redeem himself to win her heart.

He murmured something in his sleep and nestled into her side, burying his nose in the juncture of her neck and shoulder. Cersei, Brienne thought. He dreams of her. And why wouldn't he? Cersei's beauty was known across the land, but Brienne had seen the Queen at Robert's side with her own eyes, seen her golden curls and her delicate porcelain features. She radiated an icy, unattainable beauty. Picturing her made Brienne's stomach knot with an emotion she didn't want to put a name to. Jealousy. But it was not her beauty she coveted.

Her mind turned then to her Lady's daughters - and she felt shamed to think of how treacherous she would seem if Lady Catelyn could see her now, in the Kingslayer's arms. It was more than she could bear. She pulled away from the warmth of Jaime's embrace and climbed out of bed, hurriedly gathering her clothing and pulling it on, trying to be silent so that he would not wake up and catch her trying to escape. She did not care to see the disappointment in his eyes when he woke next to her instead of his sister.

Her face burned as she took a seat at one of the tables in the tavern to break her fast. She avoided the gaze of Steelshanks' soldiers, sure that if she glanced up to meet it she would see knowing mockery written across their faces. They knew, surely they knew where she had spent the night. These were men who should have died at the Crossing, should have died in service of the King in the North. How fitting, she thought glumly, thinking how she should have died in service of Lady Catelyn herself. She ate a crust of bread mechanically, trying not to feel the burn of their staring eyes. Qyburn took seat beside her and she could not hide how it made her bristle, nor did she try.

"What?" she demanded, not looking at him.

"I trust you slept well?" he asked genially, and she could not tell if the tone in his voice was from some secret knowledge he had gleaned or simply the way he spoke to people he regarded as intellectually inferior. Brienne glared down at her hands, her hair falling into her eyes. She hoped he had not noticed the heat that had risen to her face.

"Fine," she snapped back. She drank deeply from her flagon to avoid having to respond further and to cover her face from him.

"And how heals that wound? Ser Jaime has been tending it well," Qyburn intoned, and Brienne saw the twinkle in his obsidian eyes that time, felt certain that she was not imagining the implication behind his words.

"Fine," she responded again heatedly, putting her flagon down none too gently and fixing him with a hard stare. Qyburn chuckled knowingly but did not seem perturbed, proceeding to tuck into his own meagre breakfast.


Jaime

She had tried not to wake him, but he had never been a deep sleeper. He was too well trained for that. Instead he had lain awake but with eyes closed, listening to her creep about the room and gather her things, not wishing to embarass her by confronting her there. It was no surprise to him that she would want to flee; he had not thought ahead far enough last night to expect it, but if he had, it would have been a logical conclusion. The surprise came from how wounded he felt by it. He took his time in getting ready, knowing that now they were so close to the city Steelshanks would not care if they left past dawn just this once.

He washed thoroughly, not minding the iciness of the water on his skin when he knew that by nightfall he would be back home, where he could have pails and pails of steaming hot water brought to his chambers. He carefully ran the edge of his dagger across his jaw in an attempt to groom his beard, but it wasn't easy without his dominant hand and only the reflection from the glass in the window. There was more grey than he cared for in the hair that he sheared away. Cersei would not like that - if he was old, then so was she. He laughed humourlessly at the thought of the proud lion he had been when she saw him last. Now, she would look upon him and see a starving stray cat, mangy and maimed. He knew Cersei well enough, he knew she would not hide any revulsion she might feel and that his futile attempts to tidy himself up were a waste of time. Feeling no more satisfied with his appearance than when he first started, Jaime tidied and gathered his things, heading down to eat breakfast.

His eye was drawn to Brienne immediately, and he noted how uncomfortably she sat amongst them. Qyburn was sat at her table, and she looked none too pleased about that. Jaime joined them both, and if anything Brienne's discomfort seemed to triple just for seeing him. Ordinarily he would have relished in it, enjoying the hues of pink he could coax to her skin, but to think she was shamed by him killed his sense of humour.

"Good morning," he said, taking seat beside her. Their thighs brushed beneath the table and Brienne went rigid, like a rabbit in the path of a hunt. Qyburn made conversation, enquiring about Jaime's hand and how he was sleeping. He dropped hard to miss hints about hoping to find a place of employ in King's Landing, and Jaime smiled politely and ignored every single one. For her part, Brienne said nothing. Jaime wondered if Qyburn had brought up Pia again to wound her into this mutinous silence. When she went outside, he followed her, not caring that his breakfast was barely touched and Qyburn had been in the middle of a sentence.

"Go back inside," she ordered when she realised he had shadowed her.

Jaime stood and watched her packing her bed roll into the leather loops on her courser's saddle. The horse whinnied softly at the sound of her voice, looking over at Jaime when he approached and then going back to grazing on the yellowing tufts of grass by Brienne's feet.

"Did he say something to you?" Jaime quizzed. Brienne frowned at him and he realised that the root of her less-than-sunny disposition was him, no-one else.

"Like what?"

"I don't know. Something about us," he elaborated feebly.

"Us?" Brienne looked so indomitable, and he had never really noticed that she was taller than him until that moment, with her staring down at him, "Why? What does he know about 'us'?"

Jaime sighed and wondered if she misinterpreted everything he uttered deliberately, just to get back at him for how much he enjoyed her blushes.

"What is there to know?" he replied with a half-shrug.

"Exactly," Brienne breathed. She walked her courser away from him towards the road then, and he still followed, feeling more puppy than lion.

"Brienne, stop."

She obeyed and fixed him with her burning blue gaze, her jaw set firmly and her hair tousled by the autumn winds. Jaime steeled himself and forced his words out before he lost the will to speak them;

"Thank you for last night-"

"Jaime, don't," she warned, but he did not heed her.

"I know that you let me close only because of your sorrow, and I would not besmirch your reputation by speaking of last night to anyone else, do not fear that. I value your friendship too highly, Lady Brienne,"

"Stop," she said, barely a whisper. He could not understand the sadness in her, why she bowed her head or why her shoulders slumped with defeat.

"Brienne, please, tell me what's wrong. Are you really so shamed?" he asked, stepping close to her, wanting to reach out and touch her but so aware of how unwelcome it could be, "I swear to you, only you and I shall ever know of it,"

"Gods Jaime, how can you be so bloody stupid?" she ground out through gritted teeth. She seemed as though she had been about to say more but thought better of it, turning away from him to mount her courser. Jaime grabbed her by the shoulder and turned her back to face him none too gently.

"You're the one too hard-headed to tell me what in seven hells the matter is!" Jaime replied, feeling his own calm start to slip away now.

"You will forget this soon enough, I see no point in continuing this conversation, Ser," Brienne replied, her lips pursed tightly. Jaime almost flinched at being called Ser so formally. Her insecurity - could it be jealousy? - dawned on him suddenly. She was struggling with the burden of shame and guilt too, yes, and that was all he had been able to see at first, but it was clear to him now.

"Cersei," he muttered, and if there had been any doubt in his mind, it was erased by the way Brienne reacted. She was truly terrible at hiding the way she felt - it was endearing, really. The look of resignation and heartache that crossed her face made his chest hurt. It only lasted an instant before her expression hardened again. He did not know what to say. He loved Cersei - had always loved Cersei - though it had been near a year, if not longer, since he had looked upon her, and in that time she had become so far away that he might have only dreamed her. He remembered well how she had set his blood afire with nought but a sultry glance, how he had ached each time he stood guard as Robert bedded her, how she had rolled her eyes and grown so very tired of his neediness and jealousy when he finally did manage to steal precious moments with her. He remembered feeling that way. Was it only the man he once was who bore such fierce love for Cersei? Was that still him? He thought perhaps not. That man had died, slain by a glittering arakh. He supposed he would figure it out soon enough - they had less than a day left on the road ahead of them before King's Landing.

"Brienne," he said, almost pleadingly. He saw the muscle in her jaw flex as she clenched her teeth, saw the effort it took for her to look at him. He didn't know what he could say - he was not even sure of the truth in his own heart anymore - so he tried to show her with a gesture. He reached up to stroke her cheek, and when she did not shy from the touch, he tilted her chin towards him with his fingertips and planted a tentative kiss at the corner of her mouth, even softer and more feather-light than the first kiss they had shared. Her first kiss, he thought pridefully.

Behind them, the tavern door opened and the noise from the rabble within spilled out. Brienne recoiled and pushed him back abruptly, quickly turning away and mounting her courser. Jaime rubbed his mouth with the back of his hand self-consciously before daring to cast a furtive glance back over his shoulder to assess if they'd been caught. Steelshanks had strolled out with a few of his men and they were saddling their horses, paying no attention to Jaime or Brienne. Qyburn was with them, and he turned as though sensing Jaime's gaze. His smile made Jaime feel uneasy, but he did not let it show.