Okaaaaaaay, FINALLY.
We're there, my dears, and I didn't want you waiting any longer, so we're jumping right to the day of the wedding! Ohmygod I'm so nervous. If this chapter is bad I'm probably gonna cry or something. Because THIS IS IT, right? One of those parts everyone is waiting for. No pressure at all, of course. Oh wow, I hope it's better than I think...
I just wanted to give you (and me as well) a bit of fluff-time, you know? I pray that it worked how I intended it to turn out. If not, I'm deeply sorry in case I disappoint anyone. But that's okay, you can never please everyone, right? At least it's quite a long one. Anywayyyy I'm just babbling so let's start I guess. Miep.
If you did miraculously like it though, I would honestly be SO grateful if you told me. I'm such a review-junkie it can't be healthy.
And in any case, thank you very much for reading!
o~o~o~o~o~o~o~o~o
He saw Brienne when he turned around the corner. She was waiting just where she had said she would before they parted to get ready for the ceremony. Despite it all being a small and familiar assembly, Lord Selwyn had insisted on proper clothing at least.
Would you meet me again, before it starts?, Brienne had asked when they were supposed to go their separate ways. I would rather we arrived there together. I know that's not how it's usually done, but we've never taken the common path, have we?
"You came", she said now as he walked towards her and he could see how at least some of her strain fell off of her shoulders at his sight. Jaime smiled.
"I dreamed of you." He couldn't even begin to understand in how many ways these few words were screaming out the truth to her. He had been dreaming of her at night, last night, the night before a battle, in all those cold and lonely nights on his way to Winterfell. He had been daydreaming about her too, wondering where she was when they were apart, imagining what she did, asking himself what she was thinking. If she ever thought about him the way he was constantly occupied with her. If she thought about him at all. He had imagined their next meeting, hat planned whole conversations in his head, had dismissed them all as ridiculous and yet he found himself doing it again and again. He had asked himself if they were going to see each other again at all every time they had to say goodbye. He had recalled some moments he had shared with her, the night at the campfire, surrounded by Locke's men. The bath at Harrenhal, although that whole memory was a bit blurred. The day he had given Oathkeeper to her, the awe on her face as she held the sword in her hand for the first time. He had instantly known it was meant for her. It will always be yours, he had said at Riverrun - again, a truth in more ways than one. He had already been hers then too, had been for a long time, and now he was going to confess it in front of Gods and men. That he had been dreaming of her since he could remember, longing to find her, yearning for something without knowing what it was until it was literally pushing him around and swiping him off his feet. Sometimes, in the beginning, it felt like a punch right into his face, but he'd probably have thanked her for it. This impossible, unbelievable, incredible woman that stood in front of him now, ready to wed him. A figure, familiar, yet different. They had made her a dress, but it was nothing like the horrible pink thing they had forced her in at Harrenhal. This looked as if it had been meant to be worn by her (-and it was-), a skirt, open at the front, that flooded over a pair of trousers underneath. She squirmed a little as he looked her up and down as if she were able to feel the touch of his eyes on her.
"Don't get too used to me in a gown." He grinned. It was just too much like her to say that.
"I never fell in love with you for your appearance", he replied, slightly leaning forward. "I fell in love with your words, your thoughts, your heart. Do you really think I care what you're wearing? As long as it's your soul..." He breathed a kiss to her cheek. "Your spirit..." She felt his breath at her ear and closed her eyes.
"Jaime, that's hardly the right moment", she whispered a little reluctantly, somehow relieved and disappointed in equal measure when she felt him draw back.
"Sorry, I got a little carried away", he grinned, not looking sorry at all.
"No wonder, I must be irresistible in this monstrosity of ivory satin", Brienne joked, surprised that his eyes didn't display the amused twinkle she had become so familiar with, signalising that he was joining in the teasing. His face stayed calm, his smile soft.
"You're always irresistible."
She opened her mouth to say something, but the words were lost, blown away by the look in his eyes and she had to gather her thoughts for a second.
"You don't look that bad yourself", she finally detected to hopefully find the thread again. Jaime threw a glance down at himself as if he would see the red vest with golden embroidery for the first time. Brienne would be the Evenstar, their children would be Tarths, but she had wanted him to show who he had been until now, and to be proud of it.
"Oh really?", he said with an innocent shrug of his shoulders. "I thought you'd prefer the version covered in mud and blood." Brienne laughed.
"I fell in love with that version", she detected, watching a smile form on his lips. It was strange...somehow, awed? Disbelieving? Grateful?
"Miraculously..."
Brienne couldn't help but shake her head fondly.
"Not very", she contradicted him, trying to hold back a smirk. "You should have seen yourself on the dirty ground with that hand dangling around your neck. It was quite dashing." Now Jaime chuckled too, but when his eyes lingered on her then, they were calm, warm and serious.
"You know me better than anyone, and yet, you can still stand the sight of me."
He would never stop to be awed by her for that.
She had seen him at his worst, covered in blood, dirt and shit, drowning in self-pity and humiliation. And yet, she had taken what broken pieces were left and built them up to something new and beautiful. No, actually, she hadn't mended him. She had made him mend himself.
"That's because I know you." Her voice was so sincere, somehow soft and firm at the same time. He swallowed, nodded. He had to believe her, needed to believe her. And he did. It was inconceivable, but he did.
He couldn't speak anymore, couldn't avert his eyes from her.
Brienne, who had been his enemy, his captor, his companion. His curse and his blessing, his agony and his cure in equal measure.
Brienne, who had become his friend, had woken his conscience, had taken his heart without permission.
Brienne, who had saved his life and saved his soul.
She seemed to know how he felt, just like she always did. Her smile was understanding and kind when she offered her hand to him.
"Shall we, then?"
o~o~o~o~o~o~o~o~o
They separated when they arrived in the corner of the gardens they had chosen for its peaceful atmosphere under the willow-trees with their hanging branches, Jaime continuing his walk to the Septon Lord Selwyn had gathered, Brienne waiting at her father's side. When the groom had found his place, the Septon gave a signal and Brienne began to stroll down the aisle on her father's arm. There weren't any guest who could have divided her attention, but even if there were, she didn't think she would have seen anything but him, standing there, glowing, waiting for her. For her. Brienne's heart skipped. It still seemed like a miracle. They had been talking just a minute ago, but to her, it seemed as if she were seeing him properly for the first time.
He had grown his hair again after he had left King's Landing. She liked it better that way, loved how the sun reflected in golden sparkles on the soft strands. She had grown rather fond of the beard as well. He looked more like the Jaime she had met in Robb Stark's camp all those years ago - cleaner, less unkept, of course, a bit greyer, but still like him, not the shaven and fiddled version she had seen around his sister. A nightmare dressed like a daydream, she had thought back then. This was not Jaime the Kingslayer though, or Jaime Cersei's brother. Maybe not even Jaime the golden lion. This was her Jaime. Still golden, still beautiful, yet different. Natural. Her Jaime had a warm sparkle in his green eyes and a soft smile on his lips as he looked at her. How wonderful it was to love someone that smiled when he saw you. It did strange things to her, that smile. Always had. Even though she was familiar with entirely different sensations by now, it woke a flutter somewhere deep inside of her.
The pebbles stopped cracking under her feet when she came to stop in front of him.
"Love her", she heard her father say when he laid her hand in his. "Treat her the way she deserves. That's all I ask."
"I will. I promise."
They turned to the Septon, her hands warm around his fingers, the wind blowing through their hair and whispering in the nature surrounding them.
"I'm sorry", he suddenly turned half to the Septon, "could I say something before we begin with the vows, I just-" His brow furrowed. "I'd like to get something off my chest."
He was gestured continue, focusing his attention back on Brienne with a sigh.
"You know that I love you", he then said seriously, "and I couldn't be happier that I'm marrying you right here and right now." She nodded and he took a deep breath, looked down at their joined hands. When his eyes returned to her, they flickered with something that startled her for a moment, something she couldn't quite figure out. "Brienne, she won't be there", he said then and she knew what it was. "In our life. Afterwards. I promise, she won't." He paused, breathed again. "You probably know, but I needed to say it out loud."
"I know." Two words, quiet, soft, simple - and he had to close his eyes. She had always been so kind and understanding, far more than she would have needed to be, far more than could have been expected of her, far more than he had deserved. Once again, he couldn't believe how different two people could be.
Cersei, she had been like the other half of his soul.
But Brienne, she reminded him that he was already whole.
"In my head, I know I've been in love before, but it doesn't feel like it", Jaime suddenly said without having intended to. This was not planned, but the words came to him and he welcomed them, like a flood washing over him, filling every corner of his body until it was too much to be contained, flowing out of him for her to see. "Loving you feels like the first time", he went on, "and maybe it is. Actually, it feels better than the first time. It feels like the first time and the last time and the only time all at once. Does that make any sense?"
Brienne shook her head, laughing with tears in her eyes and Jaime laughed with her. This beautiful, infuriating, incomprehensible man. He was her better half, the person that turned her from ordinary to extraordinary. Not that she had ever felt like the others. Of course she was different, of course she was special. Absolutely singular, Lady Olenna Tyrell had said. Meant as a compliment. Not always a good thing though. She had even been called extraordinary once or twice, but she had never...felt like it. Not before Jaime.
Extraordinary together rather than ordinary apart.
"Thank you", she whispered suddenly.
"For what?"
"Everything." The emotion in this simple word caught Jaime off guard. There was pain, almost concealed by the gratitude. Almost. All the fear she had been carrying around her whole life, the sorrow of being alone, of knowing that she would never be able to gain a man's true respect or even affection. Jaime felt the sting of his own prejudices piercing his heart when he realised that he had made himself guilty of harbouring the same misapprehensions the first time he saw her. How could a woman that big and ugly hope to win the affection of another? How could she be seen as a proper Lady? But that was precisely what had fascinated and attracted him to her in the first place. Her being unconventional went far beyond those superficialities of looks and height - she was a true knight at heart, didn't flinch from anything as long as it was the next right thing to do. She didn't waste her time sitting around with embroideries, dressing up and gossiping. She was wielding a sword, slept between leaves and mud. Her body was huge, bruised and bleeding, her fingernails dirty and her knuckles swollen, but her heart was golden and beautiful, full with enough compassion to fill every corner of the map that had been discovered so far. Only, no one cared to take a second look to see it.
Until someone did. And he understood that she was hated by men because she made them feel how common they were in comparison to her. And she, she thought she was simply unworthy of affection.
Until she wasn't. And what she had found went beyond that, a love and desire she had secretly been yearning for.
And so had he.
The cloak hung warm and heavy around his shoulders as Brienne brought him under her protection (How very appropriate, Jaime couldn't help smiling to himself) and into her family.
The ribbon was tied and unravelled around their hands, sealing their souls together, binding them as one.
The words of the ceremony came easily from their lips. As if they'd been lingering there for a long time, only waiting to be finally spoken, and perhaps they had.
Father, Smith, Warrior, Mother, Maiden, Crone, Stranger.
I am his and he is mine
I am hers and she is mine
From this day, until the end of my days.
One flesh, one heart, one soul, now and forever.
They had been one flesh on the battlefield, back to back, moving as one, two sides of the same sword. One heart had they been long before, even though it had taken them years to lay them bare to each other. Tonight, they would become one soul for eternity.
Obviously there wouldn't be a bedding ceremony. However, Lord Selwyn insisted on pointing out that a wedding wasn't legitimate until its consummation had been taken care of properly.
"Don't worry", Jaime said meaningfully, Brienne blushed deeply and his grin grew broader. "That won't be a problem."
o~o~o~o~o~o~o~o~o
"We survived." Jaime laughed as he closed the door behind them.
"I mean", she rose her eyebrows meaningfully, "we got through a lot, but this was terrifying."
"And yet, here we are again", he said, unable to get the smile off of his face.
"Here we are again."
And it would stay like that. The realisation hit Brienne suddenly. Of course, she had known, but she had never...known like at that moment. They were married. Bound together by more than order, companionship or even love. They would stay here. The times of war, loneliness and uncertainty were over. How many years had she spent wandering around like half a person, feeling his absence almost physically? It was like a scar on her heart, a dull ache in her chest. When she had been away long enough, she hadn't felt it anymore, accustomed to it as if it were a part of her body. Then, one of those infrequent encounters that were so much defined by war and chance - those were the only times when she felt like she could breathe properly.
Missing him was a veil of dark grey over her days. She knew she would regret it if she wasn't careful, would regret him, would regret that she had ever found out what love could feel like. But trying to forget him was impossible, like trying to defend an enemy that had already won. Memorizing him was easy though, even fighting with him had been easy - hard, exhausting, but easy. Like realizing all you ever wanted was right there in front of you. It had never made any sense to her, all those years with this longing for his presence, to reach for something that was clearly unavailable.
Until it wasn't. And loving him, loving him was-
"Brienne?"
"Hm?" She turned around from the window she had been standing at, staring into a world of fading sunlight without seeing any of it.
"Is everything alright?", Jaime asked, a hint of concern in his warm green eyes. "You seemed a bit absent."
"I was only thinking."
"Thinking what?"
"How lucky we are." His face lit up at her words.
"You know that you'll never get rid of me from now on, don't you?"
"If I die", he said with a smile, "knowing that I've spent every possible second in your company, I will die a happy man." Her mouth twitched teasingly.
"Good of you to be aware of that."
He chuckled, eyes lowered to the ground, his hair falling into his face and slightly swinging in the rhythm of those beautiful sounds escaping his throat. She watched how his gaze wandered higher, not quite looking up though, lingering on his vest. He reached for the laces on top, fumbling some of them open.
"That's better." His eyes found hers and she cursed herself for biting her lip. She knew that he noticed, saw it in the pleased way his mouth was curling.
She would have to control herself much better. Couldn't make it too easy for him, after all.
"I can imagine you might want to get out of that dress." There we go. Brienne rose her eyebrows, the corner of her lips curling upwards. He didn't know how, but...she managed to look innocent and mischievous at the same time.
"Is that an invitation?"
"Might be." Brienne crossed her arms in front of her chest, eyes sparkling.
"I can take my armour on and off without help", she pointed out, apparently pleased with herself, "what would make you think I couldn't handle some laces?"
"Oh, I'm sure you're perfectly capable", Jaime replied, unimpressed. "But I'd do it so much better."
"Would you, now?"
She bit down on her lip to suppress a smirk, watching how he tentatively took a step forward. "One-handed?", she added teasingly, followed by a second step. Slow.
"It's a special skill." And another. Tempting.
"Indeed?" One of her brows rose even higher, her eyes sparkling with more than amusement when he came to stand right in front of her.
"In case it doesn't work, I'll just rip it apart", he whispered in her ear as he turned her around to reach the knots at her back. Brienne escaped a gasp, partly surprise, partly...something different. It took him a while as he fumbled, but she could feel how the bodice loosened bit by bit and she drew in a deep breath, relieved as the air filled her lungs.
"How do women usually breathe in this?", Jaime asked as if he had read her thoughts. Or maybe he had just heard her sigh. She could hear the concentration in his voice, could see the furrowed brow before her inner eye as he worked, probably struggling but determined. She was glad about it. He had made his peace with the loss of his hand, and he had accustomed himself to the life it had left him in.
"Probably not at all", she replied. "They must have learned to live without oxygen for days."
"No wonder you prefer a proper tunic over this." She couldn't help a snort escaping her.
Oh yes, that's why.
"There you go", he said as the last knot fell apart, obviously quite proud of himself and Brienne smiled to the ground.
"Thank you." She had just pushed the garment off her shoulders as Jaime scurried around her so quickly that she was startled for a moment - his nimbleness had always been one of his biggest advantages as opposed to her physical strength.
"You know that I thought it suited you very well though."
His smile was infectious and she couldn't help but feel grateful. Not grateful that he tried to be nice for her sake like she would have thought not such a long time ago - no, just grateful that she had found someone who could say such an unthinkable thing without any signs of pretence at all.
Brienne knew that she had never been much to look at. She knew that had neither changed, nor would it ever - but with Jaime, she just didn't care, and that made all the difference. They said that love makes blind, but she didn't abandon herself in the illusion that she miraculously transformed into something beautiful under his gaze. It simply didn't matter that she wasn't much for him either. She didn't have to be. She was everything either way.
"Anyhow", he smirked abruptly, bringing her back from pleasant thoughts to an even more pleasant view, "I think I like it even better when it's off." His grin widened when Brienne's eyes narrowed scoldingly, unable to hide the promising shimmer though.
"Jaime."
"What?", he asked, a voice so full of innocence that it didn't want to go with the mischievous sparkle in his eyes at all. "It covers too much of this creamy white skin", he added, brushing his fingertips over her throat down to her collarbone before he suddenly leaned forward, slowly tracing the same path with his lips.
"A skin full of freckles and scars", she whispered, a little breathlessly though.
"A skin full of history", he said, the words vibrating through her body as he breathed a light kiss to the soft spot right behind her ear. It was a history of pain, ridicule and humiliation. A history of bravery, strength and stubbornness. A history of hope, honour and love. A history of her. And at some point, a history of them.
Jaime wandered from her neck to her left shoulder, passing three parallel red marks on his way there. He could still remember how they had looked the day she had received them, wet and bloody lines ripped through soft flesh as the claws of the big brown creature had hit her. He kissed each one of them, wishing that she might forget all those bad memories if he just loved her enough. Just like the scars faded...
He was glad they would never disappear completely though. He loved them. They were like a book for him to read. Her body like a map. Every mark a path he could trace, every freckle begging to be touched, her whole being made to be worshipped. All those perfect imperfections that made her the wondrous creature she was.
"Not all of it nice to be remembered", she breathed out just then, contradicting him in his praise of her even in his thoughts as it seemed, but her voice lost itself in a quiet moan and Jaime's lips curled into a smile on her throat.
"Shush now", he whispered against her ear and Brienne felt a shiver running down her spine. "This is our wedding night. And we have a promise to your father to fulfil."
