Fourteen
Her bosom heaves with some emotion she's too frightened to name as Jaime clasps her in his strong arms and hurtles them off the cliff. She clings to his broad, firmly muscled chest as they gracefully plunge into the water below the Falls. They pull themselves from the river, her heavy brocade gown clinging to her voluptuous curves, leaving nothing to the imagination. She blushes prettily at the realization and blushes even more when she lifts her eyes and is caught by Jaime's admiring, heated gaze.
He steps closer, sliding his arms around her slender waist and tugging her close, sliding his hands past her hips to press her against him. There is no mistaking how strongly he is affected by the sight of her and the feel of him, pressing insistently against her belly, turns her blood to liquid gold.
"Brave wench," he purrs. Her lips part and her breath quickens as he lowers his head, her eyes fluttering shut in antici—
—wait. Staring up at him? Voluptuous curves?
Brienne wakes with a start, and Jaime rumbles a protest before he relaxes again. His arm is warm and heavy across her waist and she doesn't think either of them have moved since they drifted off to sleep. Their little nest is dark and quiet, except for the odd rustle of the wind in the branches that surround them. It's definitely cooler than she expected; her nose feels like an ice cube and, as Jaime sleepily nuzzles his own nose against her neck, she understands why he wanted to be the big spoon.
Big spoon, she thinks, fighting the urge to break into hysterical laughter as the weight of everything that's happened to her on this godsforsaken island crashes over her. She's never been either spoon before! Her rare forays in sharing a bed with a man were all brief and disappointing and never even made it to cuddling let alone spooning, let alone sleeping beside him all night. She's mildly surprised she hasn't kicked him away by now.
Snippets of her dream return to her and she grimaces.
She's an idiot...and pathetic. The fact she dreamt herself as a delicate, beautiful maiden from an Age of Magic bodice ripper makes her suddenly, intensely sad. If she actually looked like that, Brienne has no doubt she could have experienced that kiss in real life rather than in her dreams. Well, almost experienced it.
Still, if she actually looked like that, she has no doubt she could roll over right now and Jaime would gladly welcome anything she wanted to offer. As it is...
Stop it, she growls to herself, suddenly angry. I may be no one's idea of a beauty, but that doesn't mean I am so desperate as to throw myself at the first handsome man who hasn't run in the other direction! The man is a murderer, acquitted or not! And nothing I'm feeling is real! I'm just caught up in the romance of all of this and when I get back to King's Landing, I'll see this for what it is and get on with my real life!
"Brienne?" Jaime's husky voice rumbles in her ear.
She holds her breath.
He chuckles. "I know you're awake. Did you hear something?"
She gives a small shake of her head.
"Ah. Are you uncomfortable? Do you need to roll over?"
Brienne realizes she is aching a little from being in one position for so long. She nods.
"Okay." He slips his arm from her waist and she's instantly, achingly aware of its absence. Stupid, she curses herself again. He rolls onto his back and she does the same with a sigh that's half-relief and half-regret.
She stares up at the starry sky in silence. No sign of dawn yet.
"What's wrong?" Jaime murmurs.
A million possible replies flit through her mind, each more ridiculous and more humiliating than the last.
"I need to be on my other side," she finally mutters and thinks, I never see these kinds of conversations in the books I read. The heroine just naturally fits against the hero's body and they know how to fit together without needing to talk about it.
...not that we're going to be doing this again…or want to…or—
"Okay," Jaime says, breaking her out of her nonsensical thoughts. There's a lilt of amusement in his voice that makes her flush with embarrassment.
Brienne hesitates for another long moment then she decides the gods hate a coward and rolls onto her side, facing him.
She can barely make out his face in the darkness but she can see the soft smile curving his lips. She hitches the leaves they're using as blankets a little higher over her shoulder and shivers. It really is chillier than she expected.
"You can get closer, if you're cold," Jaime says, his amusement stronger than ever.
Brienne opens her mouth to tell him she's fine, then shivers again. Pride and embarrassment be damned, she tells herself, grimly defiant, I'm cold.
She carefully places her hand on his flat stomach and snuggles as close as she dares without actually spooning him the way he had spooned with her.
"Thanks," she mutters and closes her eyes.
She just hopes she doesn't have any more embarrassing dreams.
*/*/*/*/*
Jaime knew he made a horrible mistake even before Brienne gave in to the chill and snuggled closer to take advantage of his body heat.
Her hand is resting flat against his stomach, her fingers spread slightly apart. He's half-sure there'll be an outline of that hand including every callous and scar, on his skin in the morning, the feel of it is so vivid. If he closes his eyes, he can envision it, too, down to the shape of her knuckles, her blunt and broken nails, and the red skin where blisters are forming.
That's...weird, but it reminds him to check her hands in the morning. Brienne's been using a machete like a champ the last few days—when they haven't been running or climbing or jumping for their lives, of course—but a woman more used to books than a weapon in her hand will develop blisters no matter how stoic she may be about it.
Brienne's breathing slows and deepens and she relaxes against him as she drifts back to sleep, while Jaime's body is reacting not only to the dream he just had about those endless legs and that long neck and those small yet perfectly shaped breasts that had been all-too-clearly outlined by her shirt after they escaped the river, and the way her plump lips felt beneath his, and—he stops. Things are uncomfortable enough without making it worse. Besides, dream-Brienne isn't nearly as arousing as real-Brienne's soft breath wafting across his collarbone or the weight of her hand on his stomach. All he can do is pray to every god he can name that she doesn't accidentally move her hand any lower.
And if it wasn't accidental? He grits his teeth against a groan as he has a sudden image of Brienne sliding her hand down...and down...
Stop it! She's right here, and she would definitely not appreciate this. At all.
He stares up at the stars and forces himself to visualize Hoat and his men, to think of poor Jos and Pia, of his trial...and to his relief, his arousal eases.
Still, he can't help but be amazed by his own reactions to the woman sleeping peacefully beside him. It's ridiculous that Brienne is affecting him so strongly. She's no one's idea of a beautiful woman, yet...like with the Ruby Tree, there is beauty there, once you get to know her. Her legs are long and well-toned, and she's fearless. Opinionated. Stubborn. Determined. Her eyes are deep enough to drown in and she's not afraid to cut him down to size when needed.
He sighs then holds his breath, wondering if he's woken her. She doesn't stir, and he slowly lets his breath out.
Trying to understand it isn't helping, he thinks, plus it's useless to linger on everything I find attractive about her.
While Brienne might have moments of attraction to him, she would never allow herself to act on it. Not anymore.
The press dubbed him the Kingslayer, which is accurate but only part of the story, and Brienne obviously believes the picture the media painted about what happened with Aerys.
Besides...she's a tourie. She'll be returning to Westeros as soon as they track down the Stark girls.
And Jaime has no interest in just another casual fling.
Brienne snorts a snore and snuggles closer, her hand sliding across his stomach as she flings one leg over his.
Jaime bites back a groan as his body instantly reacts.
This really was a mistake.
He closes his eyes and tries to relax because boner or no boner, he needs to get some rest. Tomorrow is going to be another dangerous day.
Brienne hitches her leg a little higher against his.
In more ways than one.
*/*/*/*/*
If Brienne has more dreams, she doesn't remember them, and she doesn't truly wake again until the light of day filters its way through the trees and into their shady nest.
She rolls onto her back with a loud yawn and Jaime wakes with a start. He lifts his tousled golden head and looks at her with sleepy green eyes.
"Can we just take the day and sleep?" he groans.
She bites back a smile. "I'm willing if you are," she says, then stills as his eyes change from sleepy to intent and seem to pin her to the ground.
Then he blinks and she can move again. She flushes and hopes he doesn't notice. Her reactions to him are embarrassing enough; she doesn't need him realizing it or worse: pitying her for it.
Jaime heaves a deep sigh and gives her a rueful smirk. "Sadly, saving an island from murderous assholes can't wait."
Reality comes crashing back, waking her like a cold dash of water in her face.
They clamber to their feet then go to their respective sides of the clearing before returning to dig through their packs and pull out what's left of the food Sam and Gilly gave them.
As they eat, Brienne says, "Any ideas what to do or where to go next?"
Jaime chews thoughtfully then swallows before saying, "You said you were tired of running."
"I am."
His smile is positively evil. "So am I. We head back to the Falls."
She frowns.
Jaime says, "I think Pyg deliberately herded us there. Which means he's looking for something in that area."
Brienne's eyes widen. "Lysa and the Starks?"
Jaime shrugs then winces as the movement pulls at the graze on his arm.
"Maybe. I don't know...but it seems the most likely answer. No one else has been in the jungle since Jos and Pia disappeared...rather, no one who hasn't been armed and ready for anything."
"We weren't armed and ready for anything."
Jaime pulls a rueful face. "True, and that was bad planning on my part. I honestly didn't expect Hoat's men to have wandered this far from the mine." He frowns. "Although if they've wandered this far, I wonder why they haven't found their way back to town...?" He shakes his head. "Mayhaps they stumbled on Lysa and the girls, but Lysa managed to give them the slip at the Falls."
Brienne nods. "Like we did."
"Well, not exactly like we did," Jaime says.
She raises an eyebrow in question and he smiles.
"There's a cave system behind the waterfall," he says. "A big one, with lots of large caverns and tunnels. It's a popular party spot for the kids on the island. It's hidden away, it's unique, and, of course, most of the kids forget their parents have been here since they were young and know exactly where their kids are going."
Brienne rolls her eyes and shakes her head. "Of course it would be a party spot," she says, her voice dry. "Could they hold out there for a few days? And what about food? If they only planned to be out in the jungle for a few hours, they probably didn't bring anything more than lunch."
"There's a stash of snacks in the cave." He shrugs at her disbelieving stare. "It's a very popular party spot as in there's always a party going on or being planned. There's always something left behind or brought in advance."
She frowns. "Where have the kids been partying since Hoat and his men got loose in the jungle?"
"Probably closer to home," Jaime says, "or else they're going to Captain Tony's on the other side of the island."
"He lets them drink?"
Jaime laughs at her scandalized expression. "Captain Tony's is the name of the cove where the pirates used to shelter their ships."
Brienne shakes her head. "This island..."
"Has more to it than you can see at first glance, yes."
She rolls her eyes. "That, too. Do you have any other hidden pits or caves or cliffs you want to lure Pyg into or over?"
Jaime pops another piece of fruit into his mouth as he considers the question. "Sadly, no. And we don't have any shovels to dig a pit and fill it with it sharpened stakes."
Brienne's eyes widen. "I don't want to kill the man!"
"No? Pity."
"Jaime!"
"I'm kidding! Contrary to what you may believe, I don't particularly like killing people either." He picks up his phone and scowls. "I thought these things were waterproof," he mutters.
"They are," Brienne says and takes it from him. No matter what she does, however, the screen stays stubbornly blank. She shrugs. "Maybe the battery's dead."
"Well," Jaime sighs as he takes it back and slips it into his pack, "at least I got the word out about the guns."
Brienne nods. "Where's the meeting location?"
Jaime raises an eyebrow. "Meeting location?"
She gives him a pitying look. "I think I've seen how you operate long enough now to know that you have plans within plans. Lose communications in the field, you would have a set meeting point and a deadline to make it there."
Jaime's smile is slow and admiring. "For a fusty historian, Doc, you're good at this field work." He nods. "We have forty-eight hours to make it to Rhaegar's Mine for pickup."
"Forty-eight hours!"
He shrugs. "We're an island that caters to tourists. We're sometimes out here for weeks, giving our touries the adventures of a lifetime. We don't just panic when someone isn't around. Well, except for Lysa. She's been known to go off the rails on occasion."
"Oh, wonderful."
Jaime laughs. "She's harmless, just...a little scary. Anyway, if there is a reason to worry, we have forty-eight hours to get to the Mine after contact is lost."
"And sending a message about gun runners is definitely a reason to worry."
"Definitely." He shakes his head. "So, we have Pyg around the Falls. Addam should have picked up Zollo by now but we won't know that until we get to the Mine. That leaves Hoat, Shagwell, and Timeon."
Brienne nods. "And other than the cliff around the Falls, there are no other geographical features you're thinking of using?"
"Well, whatever we can, of course."
She looks up at the towering trees but Jaime shakes his head before she can ask the obvious question.
"There's only one treehouse," he says, "and those branch bridges have been carefully cultivated for years. Long before my time or even Sam's. They're why Sam built the treehouse where he did."
Brienne gives him a wry look. "And you don't have a legend about Rhaegar and his rubies to explain them?"
"We will, if we ever let the touries know about them."
She can't help but laugh at that.
"All right," she says with a grin, "that leaves what we've got down here."
They stare thoughtfully at the trees and bushes, vines and grass, flowers and buzzing insects.
Brienne says, "We just need to incapacitate and contain them until we can get to the Mine and connect with Addam, right?"
"Right."
She eyes the vines. "How are you at building snares?"
*/*/*/*/*