Brienne stands with her back against the wall, Oathkeeper put down. She is not able to raise her sword any longer. She is so exhausted. As never before.

Jaime is breathing hard beside her.

Their eyes meet and only then the impossible truth waves over Brienne.

They have won.

In a battle where their chances were almost non-existent.

They have won.

And they are alive. Pod. And Jaime. And her.

Not everyone is that lucky.

Lady Sansa lost her sister and friend. Daenerys mourns after her knight.

The great pyres with all the fallen warriors are set on fire.

No one says a word as their bodies disappear in flames and the acrid smoke envelopes them, making their eyes wet and the lungs burn.

Brienne feels Jaime's hand on hers. He isn't looking at her but the slight squeeze of his hand is all the reassurance she needs at that moment.

Then there is a feast.

To celebrate their victory.

To celebrate life.

This is why she lets her inhibitions go. Or maybe it is Jaime's hand on hers again.

And his smile and shining eyes. All directed at her.

When she finally feels free and accepted among their small group, everything goes wrong.

The stupid question.

And the humiliation.

It is nothing to be ashamed of, she tells herself. Brienne is a highborn lady. Unmarried. It is expected of her to be a virgin.

There is no shame in it.

But the implication hangs heavily in the air.

Nobody has ever wanted her.

Three betrothals. All of them have been broken.

And the man she loves would never reciprocate her feelings because he loves another.

Jaime finds her later in her room.

A bit tipsy with a jug of wine and two cups.

He demands answers she doesn't want to give.

The awkward conversation goes on. Brienne drinks another cup of wine, hears him admitting his jealousy, and watches him fumbling with the laces of his shirt.

It's not happening.

This must be a dream.

Maybe this thought is the one that gives her the courage to take his shirt off and to make her own follow.

And then Jaime is kissing her. His lips are hot and insistent.

He is kissing her like she is his air.

Brienne quickly catches up, her inexperience and insecurities quickly forgotten.

Not stopping their kisses, they make it to bed. Soon their clothes end up on the cold floor.

Jaime is lying on top of her, his forehead resting on hers.

"Brienne?"

Just her name. The question.

"Yes," the only answer. It's enough for him as he slowly enters her. The feeling is strange and not pleasant at all. Then a quick strong thrust, a cutting pain, and Jaime is fully sheathed within her. A single tear that escapes her eye is immediately caught by his lips.

Jaime is still above her, kissing away her pain and whispering words of apology into her ear. Soon enough the discomfort is replaced by the unfamiliar feeling of fullness.

And when he starts to move, Brienne feels something. Not pleasure but something more like a promise of it.

Jaime moves faster, his breathing becomes laboured and soon, he falls on her with a hoarse groan.

But it's fine. She is strong enough to hold him. Brienne tightens her embrace around him and listens as his heart and breathing calm down.

He rolls off her and they both, drunk with wine and exhausted after the feast and… and this, find their sleep.

The next morning Brienne wakes up with a throbbing head and dull ache between her legs. Everything that happened the previous night feels like a distant dream.

Jaime's right arm with a heavy golden hand lays over her, pulling her close to his chest. Why is that monstrosity still attached to his wrist? Brienne can't remember if she had forgotten to remove it in the fervour of their unexpected closeness or if she'd tried and he didn't let her.

Not knowing exactly why it bothers her so much, slowly and carefully to not wake him, Brienne works with the straps of his golden hand and puts it on a nightstand with a quiet clung.

The sight of his wrist makes her gasp. The skin is angry and red. She reaches to the nightstand again to retrieve a tiny pot with a salve which helped her greatly with the bruises and wounds she had got during her training and travels.

Making sure Jaime is still asleep, Brienne gently applies the salve on his irritated skin.

His breathing is still deep and even when she finishes. He looks so peaceful and Brienne can't help a slight pang in her heart, knowing that the soft expression will be gone the moment he opens his eyes.

She gets up from the bed, trying not to look at a small brown dot on sheets. As quiet as possible, she puts her clothes on and leaves the room.

Brienne doesn't see Jaime for the whole day. Everyone is recovering from the battle and the feast as well. But it doesn't matter to her.

She needs to occupy herself somehow. To not think about him. To not think at all.

But then it's evening again. She's in her room when he knocks.

And despite her better judgment, Brienne lets him in.

Again.

This time there is a different tension between them, which she tries her best to ignore.

"Do you regret last night?" Jaime finally asks when she refuses to meet his eyes.

Does she?

"No," Brienne replies after a moment. Of course she wouldn't regret the night with the man she loves, even if it was everything she would ever get from him. "Do you?"

The question somehow escapes despite her steel resolve not to ask it. Brienne holds her breath, preparing herself for the answer.

"No, not the night with you."

"If not the night, then what?"

Suddenly it's Jaime who drops his gaze. If Brienne didn't know any better, she'd think he's embarrassed and ashamed.

But maybe he is, whispers this tiny voice in her head.

"The execution of the night was not…"

Instead of finishing, Jaime gives her a meaningful look and makes a vague gesture with his left hand.

Then it hits Brienne. She was so stupid. She shouldn't have asked.

"I… I'm sorry," she stumbles, her cheeks getting hot. "I know I'm not very experienced to… to make it good."

"What?" The confusion overtakes the previous embarrassment on Jaime's face. "That is not what I meant. I wanted to make it good for you and I know I failed."

"You didn't, Jaime. It was alright," Brienne tries to sound sure and convincing. Making Jaime feel guilty for giving her the experience she has never expected to have is the last thing she wants to do.

"It shouldn't be alright." Jaime takes a step closer, his green eyes locked with hers. "I want you to feel as amazing and wonderful as I did while being with you. If you'd let me."

And Brienne does.

His kisses are not as desperate as the previous night. They are slower, deeper, more passionate.

Everything is.

Jaime removes her clothes one by one. And she does the same for him but when Brienne reaches for his golden hand, Jaime stops her abruptly.

"You don't have to look at this. It's unsightly but you already know that."

"Yes, I saw it," Brienne admits, reaching again for his hand. Her fingers stop on the straps. "It doesn't bother me. You don't have to wear it when you're with me. Unless you want to."

"Gods, no."

Soon the golden hand is shoved on the nearest chair and they are free to continue their previous activity.

"Thank you," Jaime whispers into her ear, leading her to the bed.

He explores her body without a hurry, with his hand and his mouth, lingering on her neck, her breasts, her cunt.

It is nothing like the night before.

The pleasure of having him overwhelms all her senses. Again and again.

Sated and exhausted they fall asleep in each other's arms.

Life in Winterfell goes on.

The preparations for the next war are in progress and the Dragon Queen is eager to take back what is hers.

Brienne goes around with her duties. With Jaime at her side.

They start every day together, they break their fast together, they attend the councils together and do the work around the castle. Together.

Together. For the first time in her life, Brienne learns what this word really means.

They only part when she is with Sansa. The Lady of Winterfell still looks at Jaime with cold hostile eyes and sometimes Brienne feels the same gaze at herself.

She knows Sansa is aware of their relationship. Everyone at Winterfell is.

However, Sansa never speaks about it and when Brienne turns her head to meet her lady's gaze, Sansa always looks in another direction.

Soon the army marches South. Jaime stays behind.

"It's not my war anymore."

Life goes on.

Days are filled with hard work.

And nights with love.

Their room is filled with the soft orange glow and the crackling sounds of burning fire. They are lying under soft furs and enjoying the slowly fading effects of their blissful union when Jaime says these words for the first time.

"I love you, Brienne, you know that, right?"

Brienne doesn't know that. In recent days she just felt that way. Being loved by Jaime. Her more rational part scolded her for believing that and was coming up with all the reasonable arguments proving it wrong. But maybe this one time her heart wasn't wrong.

"I love you too, Jaime," she says, her voice a little more than a whisper.

Days are passing. The air is filled with tension. Everyone is waiting for the news from the South.

Sansa is worried more than everyone else, Brienne sees that even though her lady is doing her best to hide it.

Bran doesn't tell them anything. If it is for the lack of knowledge or his unwillingness to share, no one can tell.

Finally, the expected raven comes but the news is not something they expected to hear.

The second dragon was taken down by Euron's forces. As well as their fleet. And Daenerys' friend was captured.

Brienne is in the courtyard with Sansa when Jaime finds them.

Her lady gives her permission to tell the news.

"I always wanted to be there when they'll execute your sister. Seems like I won't get the chance," Sansa says, her words filling the tense silence around them.

Brienne doesn't know how to interpret the look on Jaime's face, nor does she have time to linger on it.

She follows her lady, leaving Jaime behind.

She finds Jaime that evening in their room, sitting in front of the fire with a brooding expression on his face.

He doesn't greet her as usual. With a smile and a kiss.

He doesn't even notice her arrival.

"Jaime?" Brienne says, not sure how to approach him. He was never like that during the time they have spent here together.

Jaime doesn't respond and Brienne's heart falls.

She goes with her usual routine, removes her armour, washes her face and hands.

The knock sounds and their dinner is brought into their room.

Jaime still hasn't moved. It's understandable he is upset. Cersei is his sister.

But Brienne doesn't know what she is supposed to do. How to comfort him, how to ease his pain?

"Jaime?" she tries again.

She tentatively comes close and gently puts her hand on his shoulder.

It pulls Jaime out of any trance he has been in.

"Brienne?" He looks up at her, his eyes wide open and vulnerable as she has never seen before.

Brienne wants to say something, but Jaime takes her hand and brings it to his lips.

"Be with me tonight," he whispers.

At first, Brienne is not sure if those words weren't just her imagination.

But Jaime stands up and kisses her.

Soon they find themself in bed.

Their lovemaking is passionate as always but there is a desperate edge to it. Like the first time.

Or maybe it's the last, the unwanted thought crosses Brienne's mind as her back arches in pleasure.

Brienne wakes up in an empty bed.

The fire is long gone and the room is filled with thick darkness.

She cannot see it but she knows Jaime is not here.

He has left, her heart clenches at the thought. Not thinking, Brienne finds the closest garment and puts it over her naked body.

Then she leaves the room.

The corridors are cold and empty. There is no sound in the rooms she passes by. It must be the middle of the night.

Brienne reaches the main courtyard but there is no one there as well. I'm too late, she tells herself, not able to hold back a tear, streaming down her cheek.

The cold of the winter night freezes her to bones but it's nothing compared to the ruthless truth cutting straight through her heart.

He left me behind and went back. To her.

Brienne doesn't know for how long she was standing in the empty courtyard. She should have returned to their room but the mere thought of being there alone again is too much for her.

So she walks instead.

Not remembering the way she ends up in godswood.

Despite the darkest hour of the night, red leaves of the weirwoods are shining with the lightest subtle glow,

"Gods, wench, what are you doing here at this hour?"

"Jaime?"

Brienne turns to see a dark cloaked figure. She can't see the face but she knows without any doubt that this is him.

Jaime steps towards her.

"Brienne, what are you doing here?" he asks again.

"I…" thought that you left. But she doesn't say it. Her voice is shaky and her teeth are clattering from a cold.

Without waiting for her answer, Jaime removes his cloak and in a swift move drapes it over her shoulders with Brienne's hand coming to assist him.

"You're freezing. Come here."

She doesn't have to be told twice. Leaning in, she can feel Jaime's hard body under the layers of clothes and imagine the warmth hidden underneath.

They are standing in a tight embrace, their heavy breathing is the only sound in the surrounding silence.

"What are you doing here, Jaime?" Brienne can't keep this question any longer. She steps back a little to see his face.

"Having a nice stroll around the castle, but even without dreary northerners in sight, I hardly see any appeal."

It's not the answer she expected to receive but she finds herself nodding anyway.

"And what about you?"

"I woke up and you…" You weren't there.

Jaime lets out a deep breath.

"You thought I left you, didn't you?"

She did. There is no sense to deny it now so she nods again.

"I thought that after the news you might be willing to… to return."

"Why in seven hells would I want to do that?" The disbelief in his voice sounds so genuine yet it's hard for Brienne to believe that it has never crossed his mind.

"She's your sister and you love her."

"You're right. She's my sister, she'll always be that. And I did love her. But not anymore. Not the way you think."

Brienne blinks trying to prevent new unwanted tears from falling from her eyes. Why is she crying? He's here. At least for now.

"You thought I left you for her," Jaime says again. It's not the question anymore. Now it is a straightforward statement and she can hear a clear accusation in his tone.

"The bed was empty and you were nowhere to be seen and..." Brienne stops herself from saying anything further. She doesn't want to appear more pathetic than she already does.

"And this was enough to make such a conclusion? Next time I suggest you bind me to the bed if you can't learn to trust me."

"I do trust you."

Jaime snorts at that and faces away.

"You say you trust me. You say you love me. You let me in your bed every night. And yet, you expect me to leave you and go back to her just as every other bloody northerner does."

There is nothing to say in her defence without reminding him of how ugly and unlovable creature she is and implying that all those words of love he said to her were as good as lies.

"Jaime..."

"Kingslayer, remember? My sins are past forgiveness, is it not right, lady Brienne?"

"I don't think that anymore. I said that before I knew the real you."

"And what do you think is the real me?"

"The man of honour. Oathkeeper," Brienne says without hesitation. He's not Kingslayer anymore. He hasn't really been for quite some time. Not to her.

Jaime lets out a bitter laugh.

"What about king slaying, laying with my sister, pushing a child from the window? I did all of it and never regretted anything. Do you want to say it's not real?"

"No," her answer comes before she even has time to calm down her spinning thoughts and feelings. "I know of it. I knew from the very beginning and you were the worst of men for that in my eyes. But then you lost your sword hand defending me and told me the truth about Mad King. You returned for me and jumped unarmed into a bear pit for me when you could be safe on your way back to her. Then you gave me the precious sword and sent for a quest to uphold our vow. You were the only one to believe in me. All those things are also real."

"And yet it's not enough for you to trust me. What should I do to earn that at last? I'm sorry I don't have another sword hand to spare."

Brienne closes her eyes. She can't bear the look on his face as much as she can't hold back the tears that are threatening to fall. She desperately tries to even her breathing.

When she opens her eyes, Jaime is still standing there, his gaze locked at the uncanny face carved in its white bark. He was the one who really saw her and now he refuses to spare her just one look.

"I'm sorry, Jaime," Brienne whispers in a strained voice. She needs to tell him. She needs him to understand. "I trust you. With everything, with my life. The last few weeks were like a dream for me that I never dared to even entertain. And after my experience I… I cannot let go of the fear that one day you will realize who you are with."

This finally grabs his attention. Jaime studies her with a sharp look.

"I know perfectly well who you are. Thickheaded, stubborn, annoying, good, loyal, gentle, caring, passionate wench with astonishing blue eyes."

"I'm ugly and…"

"Does it only matter that you are not a beauty? What about the rest? Have you just ignored that or should I add deaf to the list of other things you are?"

"But I am," Brienne insists, not entirely sure on what exactly.

"You are," he agrees. "And I love you all the same."

Despite hearing those words from him many times, Brienne still needs to learn how to accept them without questioning.

"I love you too, Jaime." She is also getting better at saying this in response. Every time she is equally amazed at how easily those simple words can make his whole face smile.

"Then marry me."

"What?" Brienne blinks in confusion. It is not the best time for such jokes.

"I think you've heard."

"I did but you can't mean it."

"Why is that?"

"Because it's marriage."

Jaime chuckles hearing that, making Brienne even more confused. Does he really want to marry her? If she says yes, then they will be married. A husband and wife. Does Jaime realize that or did he just say those words without any thinking?

"Yes, wench, I'm pretty much aware of what marriage is. And I know I want this. With you. Do you?"

"Yes, but..." the words are no more than a whisper but they make Jaime's smile wider. He lunges forward and kisses her until she is breathless.

"So if we finally agree on this, then I suggest we better proceed. I would like to get to the bedding part tonight."

"I'm not sure it is the proper time to hold a wedding," Brienne tries to rationalize but is cut again by his kiss.

"Why postpone?" Jaime asks in a low voice. "The tree is right over here and my cloak is already on your shoulders. Shall we proceed, my lady?"