Chapter Twenty-three

Brienne watched Jaime from across the training yard, waiting to make her approach. It was late afternoon, almost sunset, and the yard was deserted except for a few guards patrolling along the ramparts. For all practical purposes, they were completely alone.

After Jaime had left Brienne's chamber, she had spent a considerable amount of time contemplating his excuse for having a whore in his room. Although Jaime could be just as callous and cruel as any other man, he wasn't a liar. At least, he had never made a habit of lying to Brienne, and she had no reason to doubt that he had told her the truth. Despite being a legendary swordsman and the Lord of Casterly Rock, Jaime Lannister was woefully inexperienced when it came to wooing women. He had spent his whole life wanting nothing more than to please his sister, and it had severely stunted his development in that regard.

Jaime was swinging his sword through the air, warming up his arm, as Brienne stepped out of the shadows and made her way toward him.

"Are you sure you want to do this?" she asked, stopping a comfortable distance away. "Although today's quarrel has been settled between us, I must admit, I still harbor a fair amount of resentment towards you, Lord Lannister."

"Lord Lannister? Well, now I suppose I should worry."

"You should always worry."

Jaime stopped swinging his sword. He regripped the hilt and raised the blade before him, ready to fight. "Shall we get started then?"

Brienne moved closer, unsheathing Oathkeeper in one fluid movement and balancing it expertly in her hand. For a moment, they just stood there, staring at each other in silence. There was a gravity to the situation that they both seemed to sense instinctually. It had been a long time since they'd found themselves in this position, and so much had changed since they'd last drawn swords against each other. Brienne remembered the first time she had fought Jaime Lannister, on the stone bridge on their way to King's Landing. At the time, he'd had two hands and a reputation for being one of the greatest swordsmen in all of Westeros. He'd underestimated her then, but he wasn't underestimating her now. She could tell by the look in his eyes that he was taking this all quite seriously and that he wanted to win just as much as he wanted her to bring him to his knees.

For even though there was challenge in Jaime's eyes, there was also guilt. It was clear that he felt sorry for all the horrible things he had done and that there was a part of him that wanted Brienne to best him, if only to ease his own conscience. He was secretly hoping that she would win and take from the victory whatever she needed to forgive him. But proving himself to her in the training yard was not going to fix what was broken between them. Jaime needed to convince her, deep down in her soul, that once they had become lovers, he had never so much as thought of another woman, not even for a moment.

But Brienne knew there was no way for him to prove that to her. He could say the words, of course, but if he did, she wouldn't know quite how to believe them. Although Jaime was no liar, Brienne feared that he had already convinced himself of his own unwavering faithfulness, whether real or imagined. He would tell her what she wanted to hear because he wanted to believe it was true himself.

Jaime bowed his head in Brienne's direction, a silent signal that he was prepared for battle. She nodded in return, letting him know that she was also ready, and finally, the fighting began.

Jaime struck first, lunging forward, his sword clashing loudly against hers. The impact reverberated through Brienne's arm, though she hardly felt it. Even though Jaime's health had greatly improved since he'd returned to King's Landing, he was still not as strong as he once had been. His six months of convalescing in the Stormlands had seen to that. Brienne easily countered his attack, pushing his sword aside as if it were nothing.

Jaime laughed to himself. "I suppose it's not going to be that easy, is it?"

Brienne didn't answer. She just waited for him to make his next move.

Jaime readjusted his grip on his sword, and this time when he struck, he threw all his weight into it, driving her back.

Brienne knew she could easily defeat Jaime if she went on the offensive, but she was having a difficult time doing anything more than blocking his attacks. Although she wanted to win, she found the task almost insurmountable. Jaime Lannister only had one hand—and it wasn't even his sword hand—and he was still weak. Attacking him felt like attacking a wounded animal, a wounded animal who was just desperate to please, and everything about it seemed wrong.

Brienne deflected Jaime's next blow, sliding her blade along his as he struck and sweeping his weapon upward. She quickly stepped aside, avoiding Jaime's next lunge, and leveled Oathkeeper at him with steely grace.

They moved around each other in slow, wide circles, their eyes locked, their swords at the ready.

"Please," Jaime said, "don't hold back on my account. I can take whatever you've got."

Brienne laughed, the sound short and biting. "Really, Lord Jaime? Somehow, I don't think that's true."

"Why? Because I've only got one hand?"

"No, because you're not quite as strong as you think you are."

"I'm afraid I'm going to have to disagree with you on that point, Lord Commander. I am strong enough to best you."

Brienne sincerely doubted that, but the sheer bravado in Jaime's eyes told her that she just might be wrong. "If you say so."

"I do."

"All right then," Brienne replied, shoring up her resolve. "In that case, I won't hold anything back."

Without another word, Brienne raised Oathkeeper and charged at Jaime. Metal clashed against metal as they began to fight in earnest. In the weeks since Jaime's return, Brienne had imagined this same scenario many times, fighting Jaime in the yard, beating him back, besting him in single combat until he was kneeling before her in the dirt, his eyes pleading, his sword on the ground. In her fantasies, sometimes she'd taken mercy on him and sometimes she hadn't. Either way, she'd never truly been satisfied. She wanted more from Jaime Lannister than what he could give her in the training yard, and she knew she was never going to get it.

Brienne swung downward, but Jaime managed to avoid the attack, spinning around and coming up behind her, obviously hoping to catch her off-balance. But Brienne was too quick for him, and before he could strike, she turned on her heel and faced him again.

"I see you're just as good as ever," Jaime said. "Being Lord Commander of the Kingsguard clearly suits you."

"And being Master of War clearly suits you. I would have thought you'd be on your knees by now."

Jaime offered her a wry smile. "Only if you ask nicely."

Brienne's cheeks heated at the implication. Jaime wasn't talking about her bringing him to his knees in the training yard. He was talking about something else entirely.

Brienne straightened her shoulders and repositioned her feet, determined to wipe the smug look off of Jaime Lannister's face. She knew what he wanted—it was what they both wanted—but their time had already passed. Now, all they could hope for between them was some grudging respect and maybe, someday, a friendship.

With Oathkeeper firmly gripped in her hand, Brienne began to maneuver around Jaime again, stalking him like a beast in the forest. His eyes stayed locked with hers, and when she finally struck, he met her with a renewed sense of determination that she found admirable.

They fought for a good long time, Brienne reluctant to end the encounter even though she knew she could stop it at any moment. It wasn't until the sun kissed the horizon, threatening to shroud them in darkness, that she decided to claim her victory. She drove Jaime back, forcing him to the far side of the training ground. Their swords crossed, and Brienne shoved him up against one of the support posts that edged the yard, suddenly finding herself closer to Jaime Lannister than she had been in more time than she cared to remember.

Brienne froze, a cold flush sweeping the entire length of her body as she stared into Jaime's eyes. She could feel his thighs pressed against her own, hear the ragged cadence of his breathing. All that stood between them now were the blades in their hands. And all Brienne had to do to take what she wanted was lower her weapon and give into temptation.

For a moment, neither of them moved. They just stared at each other between their crossed swords, the air tense around them. But then, suddenly, Jaime broke her gaze, and his eyes slowly drifted to her mouth.

Brienne nearly groaned. She could feel Jaime's breath fluttering against her lips, warm and soft and inviting. How easy it would be to close the space between them and just kiss him. She'd wanted to for so long, and there was nothing stopping her now. Nothing but her fear and her pride.

Brienne pushed herself away from Jaime, stepping far enough back to give herself room to breathe. She was trembling all over, and she didn't know how she was going to recover. Being close to him had unnerved her in a way she hadn't imagined possible, and all at once, she found herself at a distinct disadvantage.

"Had enough yet?" Brienne asked, doing all she could to hide the breathlessness in her voice.

"Oh, no, my lady. Not yet."

Jaime took a step forward, and he and Brienne began to circle each other again.

"This is the training yard," she said. "You don't get to call me my lady here."

"And why not? Podrick does."

Brienne almost laughed. She'd never heard Jaime Lannister sound quite so jealous before. Well, except for the night he'd first come to her bedchamber, complaining about Tormund Giantsbane.

"That's because Podrick has earned it," Brienne replied. "You have not. When you've proven yourself, truly proven yourself, then you may call me whatever you like."

Jaime quirked a brow in challenge. "Whatever I like?"

"Yes," Brienne answered reluctantly, knowing it was too late to back down now.

"Even . . . my love?"

Brienne's feet faltered, and she came to a sudden halt, momentarily stunned. She hadn't expected Jaime to say any such thing, and he had completely caught her off-guard. It took longer than it should have for her to finally reply. "I don't . . . I don't think that this is the time or place for such a discussion."

"I think it's as good a time and place as any," he said with a rakish grin.

Brienne's pulse quickened. Jaime was getting dangerously close to her heart again, and she feared what might happen if she let him in. She had spent years building walls around herself, the result of a lifetime of ridicule and derision. When Jaime had abandoned her to return to King's Landing, those walls had instantly been raised again. But ever since his return, he had been slowly tearing them down, brick by brick, and now, Brienne feared she was far too vulnerable for her own good.

"Are you sure this is a conversation you want to have when there's a sword in my hand?" Brienne asked.

"Oh, I think that makes it particularly fitting. It reminds me of our days together on the road to King's Landing."

Brienne wished he had said anything else. The instant the words were out of his mouth, her mind flooded with memories of those first days together, of how at odds they had been, and how he had eventually risked his own life to save hers. She knew, if it were not for Jaime Lannister, she wouldn't be standing there at that moment. She would have died in that bear pit back at Harrenhall. She wouldn't have lived long enough to find Sansa Stark, she wouldn't have fought in the Great War, and she would never have become Lord Commander of the Kingsguard.

Brienne adjusted her grip on Oathkeeper, trying to keep herself grounded. "As I recall, those were not the best of days."

Jaime laughed, a hearty sound that struck a chord deep in Brienne's soul. "Oh, really? And I always thought of it as one of the best times in my life."

Brienne lowered her sword, the fight completely going out of her, and Jaime lowered his as well.

"What is it that you want from me, Jaime? Really?"

"Your friendship. Maybe, someday, your love."

"My love?" Brienne asked in mock surprise, pretending to be shocked by the very idea.

"You did say you would leave the Kingsguard for me if I proved my worthiness, remember?"

"A momentary lapse in judgment, I assure you. Besides, you still have a long way to go to prove yourself, and today's antics certainly didn't help matters."

"I'm sorry about the girl," Jaime said, his tone genuinely contrite. "She really was just there to give me dance lessons."

Brienne had no reason to doubt his word on the matter. The whole thing was too absurd not to be true. Of course Tyrion Lannister would think nothing of sending a whore to his brother's bedchamber. Even though Tyrion was one of the cleverest men in all of Westeros, sometimes his actions were painfully misguided.

Brienne knew she should let the matter rest, but she was too curious not to dig just a little deeper. "So, did this woman Tyrion sent you actually teach you anything? About dancing, that is?"

"Oh, she taught me a thing or two. I think you'll be quite impressed when it comes time for the feast."

Brienne eyed him doubtfully, suddenly wondering if he intended to step all over her feet when she finally granted him a dance. "I hope you're better than Podrick," she said as she sheathed Oathkeeper, certain that they were done fighting for the day.

"Have you danced with Podrick?"

"I tried to teach him once, but he was absolutely hopeless. He's a much better fighter than a dancer, and I imagine you'll be pretty much the same."

"Well, at least you're willing to admit that I'm a good fighter. That's something, I suppose."

"You're serviceable," Brienne said with a shrug. "Not the best I've ever fought, but not the worst either." Brienne knew she could make a comparison between his fighting skills now and his fighting skills when they had first met, but it would have been cruel, and she was never cruel. She knew firsthand what it was like to be ridiculed for circumstances beyond one's control, and she would never hurt another person in that same way, especially someone she loved.

Because she did love Jaime. She always had, and nothing he did could ever change that. She'd realized that eight long months ago, and it was just as true now as it had been then.

"You've hardly given me a chance to prove my skills today," Jaime said, his sword still in his hand. "Why don't you draw your weapon again and let me show you just what I can do?"

"I already know what you can do, Jaime Lannister, and I've had enough sparring for one day. If you don't mind, I think I'm going to return to the keep. I have a lot to think about."

Jaime finally sheathed his sword. "So do I. Until we meet again, Brienne of Tarth."

Brienne bowed her head in farewell before turning and heading back toward the keep. She needed some time alone, needed some time to think, before she did something rash, like confess her undying love to Jaime Lannister.