The next days saw Jaime and Brienne occupied with their duties and finding little time for the rituals of the tenuous courtship they had begun. There had been no further reports from Tyrion's agents, and the Essosi threat was growing more ominous by the day. The atmosphere within the Red Keep was dire and tense. Between the continuous training of troops and preparations for defense, The Lord Commander of the Kingsguard and the Master of War were forced to confine attempts at healing their relationship to amorous stares and longing tones in passing. Although both wished for a moment to lose themselves in another passionate kiss, they were determined to ensure the safety if the Realm, the King, their son, and each other.
It was the safety of her infant son that weighed constantly upon Brienne's mind. Even over the ever present hope of finding herself alone with Jaime once again, the fear and worry of how she would keep her child from harm should foreign forces attack would seize her heart and leave her nearly incapacitated. Brienne tried to reassure herself that the entire Westersi naval fleet were on constant guard for the threat of invasion. If the Essosi did make an attempt upon the Capital there was every reasn to believe that word would be received far enugh in advance to shepherd Galladn to safety. At least that was what Brienne hoped.
It was that thought which troubled Brienne's mind as she went in search of Jaime during the morning hours as the Red Keep was just beginning to stir for the day. They could no longer avoid discussing preparations to keep their child protected. She had already gone to his solar hoping to find him immersed in the mountain of scrolls and parchment which seemed to endlessly accumulate upon his work table. Disappointment and frustration settled upon her at finding he was not there.
Determined, Brienne made her way next to the Tower of The Hand certain that she would find Jaime there in the company of his brother. When she arrived, she found the door to Lord Tyrion's solar slightly ajar but no sound emanated from the room. Hoping that The Hand of the King might know where Jaime could be found, she knocked politely on the thick aged oak.
"Enter." Tyrion's voice answered her signal from within.
Brienne pushed the door aside gently and stepped into the room. As Tyrion looked up from his correspondence, she sighed discontentedly upon realizing that Jaime was not there. "Forgive me Lord Hand." She announced herself respectfully. "I thought perhaps I would find your brother here." Brienne explained.
"I am sorry, Lord Commander." Tyrion smiled understandingly. "I have not seen Jaime at all this morning." He informed Brienne.
She nodded her head quietly. "I apologize for the intrusion." Brienne lowered her chin, and turned to leave, unsure where she would search for Jaime next.
Tyrion laid his quill aside, and stood from his desk. "Ser Brienne." He called, halting her exit.
"I understand that the situation between you and Jaime has warmed a bit." Tyrion encouraged cheerfully as he moved a few paces closer. He knew he was overstepping his boundaries, but he was eager to be his brother's champion in the matter.
Brienne sighed and reddened with embarrassment. "He told you?" She asked shocked. Apparently the kiss she and Jaime had shared had become a topic for conversation.
Tyrion could tell his comment had struck a nerve. "I understand it is none of my business, but he has seemed a different man these past few days." Tyrion had not meant to upset Brienne and wanted to mend his blunder. "Truly, I would not dream of commenting on your personal affairs, however, it is good to see him smile again." Tyrion said thoughtfully. "I have not known him so happy since he was in the North." He remarked, remembering Jaime's hopes for a life that centered around Brienne.
Brienne found her dismay easing a bit as she realized that Tyrion's purpose was not to pry. She imagined that perhaps that was the way of things between brothers. She doubted that Jaime and Tyrion had many secrets between them. Brienne had no siblings in whom to confide, but hoped that if her brother and sisters had lived, she would have been just as close with them. She was glad that Jaime had that kinship with his brother. However, Tyrion's mention of the North brought the painful memory of Jaime's leaving closer to the surface than it had been since she found herself again in his arms. He read her pensive expression, immediately.
Tyrion stepped a few timid paces closer to Brienne. "You understand, then, why he left?" He pushed his luck even further.
Brienne took no insult at his question. In fact, she realized it felt strangely comforting to talk to someone about the events that had transpired. "Jaime imparted his reasons to me." She replied bashfully. "And I believe him." She assured.
Tyrion nodded and pondered Brienne's acceptance of Jaime's confession. "That is good." He acknowledged. "I truly have never seen him so content and fulfilled as when he was with you at Winterfell." He told Brienne, his expression kind and concerned. "He had every intention of staying there with you." Tyrion asserted.
Brienne's gaze fell to the floor. "So he has told me." She said calmly, her demeanor not conveying the hope she found in that truth.
"He loves you with all of his heart." Tyrion stated plainly and honestly.
Brienne stared at him, the pain returning to her eyes. "Then he should have stayed." She answered stiffly.
"You are correct." Tyrion concurred. "He should have." His tone held a resentful judgement toward Jaime that was not lost on Brienne. "His only justification was that everything he did, was to protect you." Tyrion attempted to plead Jaime's case even further.
Brienne nodded softly. "He said as much when we spoke." She replied.
Tyrion lowered his chin reverently. "It is the truth, My Lady." He affirmed. "Until Bronn found us in that Tavern in Winter Town, Jaime was determined to build a future with you." He swore. "It was only the news that Cersei could win and remain on the Iron Throne, that tore Jaime from your side." Tyrion repeated the story Jaime had himself detailed to her. "Your life was in peril. Whether it would have been leading the troops in a war Cersei was sure to start with the North, or through an attempt upon your life born of her malicious jealousy, like the one Bronn had been sent to carry out, Jaime could not bear to think of you in danger." Tyrion described. "That was the only reason he left you, to keep you safe." He said proudly.
Brienne studied him intently. She knew Tyrion would not lie to her. For all his faults, at least he was honest. "Jaime revealed to me that Ser Bronn had been sent to kill us all, on the Queen's orders." She replied, not lifting her eyes.
Tyrion sighed deeply. "He was." The Hand of the King confirmed. "That was when Jaime realized that he could not stay with you." He said sadly. "You would never have been safe while Cersei lived." He agreed.
Brienne looked away. "I have already heard all of the details from your brother." She was growing eager to be gone from Lord Tyrion's solar. Brienne could still remember the recounting that Jaime had confessed to her a few evenings before. She saw no need to now listen to the events from his brother.
"Did he tell you that it was I who freed him when he was captured by Daenarys' troops?" Tyrion continued, his face showing a tinge of sorrow.
Brienne eyed him in shock "No. He did not." She answered cooly.
Tyrion's expression grew more troubled than Brienne had ever seen it. "When I finally got to him, he was in chains." He lamented. However, it was clear that was not the fact which pained him. "He was crazed. His eyes wild with despair. His body shaking with torment. It was not my brother I found, but a dead man." Tyrion recalled. "Even his words made no sense, spouting some nonsense about never having cared for innocents." He scoffed. "Can you imagine? The man who slew his king to save a city." He nearly laughed at the disparity."From what I understand, the man who gave his sword hand saving you from rape, and jumped before a bear without a weapon so save your life. The same man who traveled a thousand miles to fight the dead by your side. That same man not caring for innocents?" Tyrion did not try to hide his disgust at the thought. "Perhaps he was trying to make him self believe it, to justify hurting you, but I should have known his mind had left him." Tyrion let out a long sigh, and stroked his beard. His eyes were distant and regretful.
He stared earnestly at Brienne. "Jaime was Hells bound to complete his task. He had already given up what was most dear to him in all the world, you, a life with you." He confided. "Little else mattered." Tyrion said. "Somehow, I got Jaime out of there, and sent him to his end. It was all I could do for him." Tyrion choked, remorsefully.
Tyrion read upon Brienne's face the same thought that had tortured him since he found Jaime's nearly lifeless body in the rubble. Perhaps, if he had not allowed his brother to escape from the Targaryen soldiers, Jaime would not have been so gravely injured and could have returned to Brienne. It was a regret that pained him still, and one that he was certain would continue to visit him in the late hours of the night when sleep could not be found.
He lowered his chin with the sad memory. "In hindsight, not one of my most insightful moments." Tyrion lamented.
Brienne felt compassion for him for a moment. "You thought you were saving him from the Dragon Queen's wrath." She offered.
"Saving him..." Tyrion echoed, wishing he had a goblet with which to occupy his thoughts. "The truth is I did want to save him. I feared Daenarys would execute him." He acknowledged. "I cared not one wit what happened to my dear sister." He hissed. "It was Jaime's life that concerned me." He said. "I arranged for a boat to be waiting for them near the Keep, to make a get away." Tyrion admitted. "I thought that if they did get out of the city they could start a new life in Pentos, or even further east. I simply wanted him to live." He told Brienne, now feeling disloyal to her.
Brienne could feel the hot tears burning behind her eyes. She was unsure which would have been worse mourning Jaime's death, or knowing that he had lived only to disappear with Cersei. "I see." Was her only reply.
Tyrion nodded. Somehow asking her forgiveness seemed highly inadequate, so he simply ventured further into his tale. "It was me who found them, who found him." He recalled.
"I am sure that must have been extremely difficult for you, My Lord." Brienne nodded, her void of the emotion she fought.
Tyrion's face grew hard. "Cersei got what she deserved." He nearly smiled. "Truth be told, her end was far easier than it should have been." He chortled. "I just thank the Gods I got there in time to drag Jaime from that pile of bricks." He breathed a sigh of relief.
Brienne looked at Tyrion with appreciation. "I know he is grateful to you." She said, her voice trembling. Then her face fell. "Why are you telling me all of this, My Lord?" She begged, eager to change the uncomfortable subject.
Tyrion' gaze was deadly serious. "There were a thousand different paths that could have taken Jaime from the Keep that day." He told Brienne. "He knew them all." Tyrion exclaimed. Brienne understood that Jaime's expertise in finding his way throughout the massive structure had come from his years of secretly making his ways to Cersei. She said nothing.
"When I found them, there was a pathway not ten paces from where they lay." Tyrion told Brienne. "The way they had fallen...they were not fleeing." He shook his head in astonishment. "The way the structure collapsed, if they had kept moving they would have made it down the passageway and out." His eyes were distant imagining what must have occured. "It was as if they had just stopped." He whispered.
Brienne swallowed hard. "I am sure it was difficult to find the way." She voice, her chin quivering.
Tyrion raised a sly eye in Brienne's direction. "When did you ever know Jaime Lannister ever to just stop, to give up?" He sneered. "I never have." He said proudly.
Brienne met his stare in wide eyed agreement. Jaime would never accept defeat. She had seen him fight nearly to the death at her side. He had never just thrown up his hands and halted, not in the bear pit, and not at Winterfell. "What are you saying?" She asked tentatively.
"Jaime never had any intention of making haste for that boat." Tyrion answered. "He had no wish to flee, no wish to see Cersei to safety, no wish for a new life with her in Pentos." Tyrion asserted.
Brienne was quiet for a moment, the weight of Tyrion's disclosure sinking into her bones. "What he told me..." She began.
"What Jaime said to you was the truth, all of it." He finished her thought. "Jaime did not return to Kings Landing to die with Cersei." Tyrion affirmed. "He returned to die for you." He looked at her with kindness, as Brienne could barely find breath.
Before Brienne could say a word in response to Tyrion's revelation Jaime appeared in the doorway. At first his face carried the creases of worry, however, once he saw Brienne the cares seemed to lift from him like clouds disappearing over a sea warmed by the bright rays of the sun. Brienne turned, surprise to see him, her face reddened a bit that he had been the unknowing topic of the conversation she had just shared with Tyrion. For a slight fleeting moment, before she was able to control her reflexive acknowledgement of his presence, her face beamed with such pure love and adoration that it took his breath away. Jaime had to stop himself from rushing into her embrace.
"Brienne." He announced with relief, before his body was even through the doorway. "I was hoping to speak with you this morning." He bowed his head reverently.
Tyrion instantly felt like an unwanted intruder, and wondered what the greeting between his brother and Ser Brienne might have been had he not been present. "I believe Ser Brienne was looking for you as well." He said to Jaime, recalling the reason Brienne had visited so early.
Jaime brightened even more, as he looked intently at Brienne. "What is it you wanted?" He asked hopefully.
Brienne tried to hide her flustered reaction with stiff formality. "I needed to speak to you about arrangements for our son." She told him, unable to meet his gaze. "I believe the time has come to send him away, out of the city." Brienne did her best to hide the fear and sorrow which tore at her heart over the thought of being separated from Galladon. Jaime could tell the idea was tearing her apart.
Jaime bowed his head and stepped closer to Brienne. "Yes." He agreed. "The Essosi threat is too close to be taken lightly." His own heart ached with the notion. Sending Galladon away was the last thing in the world he would want, but he refused to take chances with their child. "We must get him out of harms way." He concurred.
"I am glad you agree." Brienne replied, relieved in finding him as concerned as she.
Jaime cleared his throat, his gaze was fixed upon her as he spoke. It had been that very fear which had guided him that morning to seek the assistance of others in need of the same assurances. "This morning, I have set plans in motion for the safety of our son." He informed Brienne, hoping he had not taken too much liberty with his guardianship. From the rise of her brow in response, it was clear he had come close to doing just that.
Brienne leaned back to study him dubiously. "You have?" She asked, her tone incredulous. She was unsure if she appreciated anyone, even the boy's father, making such plans for her babe without her knowledge.
Jaime's proud expression fell a bit, hoping she would approve. "I have spoken to Tarly's and have made preparations for a trusted steward to shepherd Lady Tarly and her children to Casterly Rock, along with Galladon." He announced.
"Gilly?" Brienne confirmed, her indignation over Jaime's failure to consult her fading.
Jaime nodded. "Yes. Lady Tarly already cares for Galladon while you work. He knows her well." He was glad that as yet, Brienne had not refused his offer.
"She adores Galladon, and he is very fond of her." Brienne's eyes grew soft at the thought.
Jaime's voice grew tender and concerned, realizing his next reasoning may be hard for Brienne to hear. "Lady Tarly's youngest is not much older than our own babe." He said, softly. "I thought she would be able to see to Galladon's needs while he is parted from you." He told Brienne bashfully.
Brienne knew exactly his meaning. Galladon was still nursing at her breast and would require someone able to nourish him upon the long journey. The Tarly's young babe was yet in arms, and Gilly would be able to provide for both infants. The thought of another woman caring for her child broke Brienne's heart, however, she could not escape the necessity of it. Their was no denying the logic of Jaime's plan.
She sighed bravely but had a demand of her own to add. "Very well." She consented. "But not Casterly Rock." She denied. "The distance is too great, anything might happen along their journey." She described frightfully. "The steward may see Gilly and the children to Tarth." Brienne did not say her wishes were because she feared the worst might happen to her or Jaime, and she wanted her child with her father in the event that his parents did not live through the battle. "I shall send a Raven informing The Evenstar to expect them." She stated.
Jaime shook his head, dissatisfied with Brienne's concession. "Is not Tarth to close to Capital?" He suggested. "There may be violence there as well." Jaime said direly.
Tyrion stepped forward, knowing his intrusion unwise. "I doubt the Essosi are much interested in marble and wildflowers." He offered, hoping Brienne would not be insulted at his description of her home. "No offense, My Lady." He apologized. "Tarth hardly has the resources to sustain an invading army." He said to Jaime. "My agents report the enemy troops amassing in the north of Essos. That would put them in line with the Capital. Tarth is far south and should hold no strategic importance for them." He directed at Jaime.
"He's right." Brienne agreed. "They will target the Capital, and The King." She said assuredly.
Jaime did not like the idea of Galladon anywhere near the Eastern coast. However, he was also displeased with sending their babe on such a long journey overland to Casterly Rock. He doubted Brienne would budge, and her argument made sense. Reluctantly, he agreed.
"Very well." Jaime conceded. "They will leave on the morrow." He declared.
Brienne watched him, the worry in her eyes for their son was equal to Jaime's. "Thank you." She said, her gratitude for his devotion to Galladon shone on her face. Jaime nodded his understanding.
"I shall pen word to my father, and send the Raven to Evenfall at once." Brienne affirmed. With a guarded glance at Jaime, and a nod to Tyrion, she hurriedly left the Hand's solar, eager to make arrangements for her son.
Jaime stared after her. There had been so much more he wanted to say. It would have to wait. Just how long that pause would be was what Jaime feared.
"I hope she is right." Jaime whispered, praying he was not sending his son into an enemy invasion of Tarth. His eyes continued to follow the path Brienne had taken.
"I believe that she is." Tyrion assured him. "My agents have mentioned nothing of he lands south of Kings Landing." He tried to encourage Jaime, but realized what that information meant for the Capital, and for them. He also noticed that Jaime still had not turned full attention to him. He knew his brother's mind was occupied with fear for Galladon and Brienne.
"So tell me," Tyrion began, attempting to deflect the worry which had weighed heavily upon them, and anxious to hear the news of Jaime's attempts to win Brienne's affections. "How goes the wooing?" He smiled invitingly.
Jaime rolled his eyes begrudgingly. "What wooing?" He sneered. "With the threat of attack there is little time for anything else." He hung his head. "I have not been alone with Brienne in days.' He lamented.
"Yes." Tyrion agreed. "I can see how the possibility of eminent death and destruction could put a damper on a courtship." He nodded. Jaime sighed, dejectedly.
"What have your efforts been in that regard?" Tyrion questioned. Ironically, charming the opposite sex was actually one area of life in which he was much more experienced than his brother, and Tyrion was eager to offer his guidance.
Jaime's shoulders fell at the paltry list of his accomplishments toward pursuing Brienne. "A walk in the gardens with Galladon. We shared a lovely meal, and a kiss." He understood how slim his list sounded, even as his heart soared at the memory of Brienne in his arms.
Tyrion turned and walked back to his desk, deep in thought. "Yes." He scratched his chin, not wishing to sound too pessimistic. "It does seem as though there has been few opportunities for you to lavish attention upon your lady." He agreed.
"I was hoping perhaps to go to the markets to find a nice gift that would suit her, but my duties have made that impossible." Jaime confessed.
"Well." Tyrion sat behind his work table and drummed his fingers to aid his thinking. "Consider this?" He suggested. "Have you not already given her the most elaborate of gifts, a sword, a suit of armor, knighting her?" He questioned.
"That was a long time ago, and much has occured since then." Jaime nodded glumly He had hoped to find something equally as sentimental to celebrate his feelings for his lady love.
It was clear to Tyrion that Jaime was so lost and lovesick over Brienne that he was not following his implications. "My Gods man!" Tyrion exclaimed. "Your efforts have been admirable, but at least act like you know her." He decried.
Jaime stared at Tyrion, taken aback. "I believe I know her better than anyone." He proclaimed.
"So act like it." Tyrion challenged. "Does Brienne of Tarth really seem like the kind of woman whose head would be turned by baubles and trinkets?" He asserted.
Jaime shrugged his shoulders in aggravattion. "You said court her. That's what I'm trying to do." He shouted, his patience almost gone.
Tyrion glared at him. "Yes, Jaime." He affirmed. "Court HER! He emphasized. "Not some simpering maid." He directed. "You need to find some way of making it impossible for Brienne to deny her desire for you." He smiled suggestively. "Think of it, there must be something that will turn her head with such fervor, that Brienne of Tarth will become clay in your hands." He leered.
Jaime breathed deep, and swayed impatiently. "Yes, but what?" He wished Tyrion would offer an idea.
Tyrion simply stared at Jaime, the smirk frozen upon his face. "That, my dear brother, is for you to determine." He insisted.
Jaime left Tyrion's solar and stormed through the passageways of the Hand's Tower in a huff of frustration. He barely noticed those he passed as thoughts whirled in his brain. His steps were hurried and determined although he had no idea where he was headed. His discussion with Tyrion had been less than helpful, and he was more confounded than ever about how to win over Brienne.
'Woo her.' Jaime repeated Tyrion's words to himself, rolling his eyes and tossing his chin to the side in exaggerated annoyance. 'That, my dear brother, is for you to determine.' His face contorted as he mouthed the words and threw his hands in the air, not caring how he appeared to passers by. The task ahead of him seemed daunting, and any idea of where to begin alluded him.
In his anger, Jaime's steps took a familiar path and he found himself back in his own apartments with no memory of the route that had taken him there. Solemnly, he slumped into the chair behind his parchment laden work table with a sigh. He steepled the fingers of his left hand over the stump of his right, and rested his elbows on the arms of the chairs. His chin hung sullenly atop his hand. For once, the day found no one bustling for his attention as Master of War. In the glorious silence, he sought a solution for the dilema in which he currently floundered.
The better part of Jaime's morning was spent wracking his brain to determine the one perfect thing that would return Brienne's affections to him. All of the pleasantries that his wealthy upbringing told him should charm a lady would be lost on Brienne. She had no use for lavish silks or exotic spices from the far reaches of Essos. Heady spiceflower perfumes would most likely be left untouched by the woman he adored, who saw little need for such frivolity. The thought of Brienne's upswept brow in reaction to any attempt to recite romantic poetry brought a chuckle to Jaime's throat. But was that not one of the reasons he fell in love with her? She was so unlike any he had ever known, so unlike any in the entire realm. She was singular, honorable, exciting, strong, and she fit him perfectly.
As the sun which shone upon Kings Landing reached its zenith in the sky, Jaime threw down the quill with which he been fruitlessly attempting to work. With a long exhale he rose from his desk, and trudged into the sleeping chamber. Collapsing upon the bed, he heard Tyrion's words once more. 'At least act like you know her.' Jaime mocked to himself, with a hateful sneer directed at his brother.
"I know her better than I know myself." Jaime declared to the ceiling before covering his eyes with the inside of his elbow, and breathing another defeated sigh.
In the darkness behind his eyelids, Jaime saw Brienne in glorious clarity before him.
Together they traveled again through the Riverlands, his hands bound, his steps determine by the force of her shove. What he would not give to be dragged anywhere by her now. 'You caught me chastising my wife.' He heard himself say in an effort to conceal their true purposed from Locke's men. A sublime smile found his lips at the fantasy it had been.
The images swirled so close that he could almost reach out and touch them, touch her. Jaime saw Brienne staring down death in the bear pit at Harrenhal, not a sign of surrender in her stance. Their eyes said so much which could not be expressed as he gifted her a magnificent Valyrian steel blade. He felt himself breaking apart once more as she rode away from Kings Landing with Podrick, Jaime's own heart at her side. His soul leaped again with a joy he dared not show upon seeing her at the Dragon Pit. Finally, they stood once more beside each other, fighting for life itself at Winterfell. He had thought nothing could have torn him from her.
Slowly, Jaime became aware of his own breathing, and the visions of Brienne began to fade. He awoke, feeling as though his heart was slipping away as he struggled to hold on to her. Awareness hit him like a lightening bolt. He shot upright, and gasped for breath. Looking around him, Jaime could tell by the light that midday had turned to late afternoon and evening was fast approaching. Through the open window Jaime heard the familiar sound of steel on steel, and knew the Guard was honing its skills in the courtyard below. So much time he had lost. A wide smile lit his face, as he darted from the bed and secured his armor. He knew exactly how to win Brienne.
The breeze off Blackwater Bay blew gentle and sweet and ruffled Jaime's hair as he stepped purposefully out of the door of the Tower of the Hand. The shadows were lengthening and the heat of the day beginning to loosen its grip. The sounds of sword and armor locked in practiced combat could still be heard off the walls of The Keep. His heart beat grew faster, as did his steps, while his mind raced ahead of him eager to reach Brienne. As he cleared the tall corner of the Hand's Tower, and lifted his view against the sinking sun, he saw her.
Brienne stood majestically inspecting her Kingsguard while they trained in the yard between the armory and the stables. Jaime fought his steps not to falter at the glory of her. The gold of her armor rivaled the spun sunshine of her hair as they glowed in the warm light. Her hand, as usual, grasped her sword as if it were some sort of connection to Jaime himself. He felt that bond keenly as he strode unhindered up to Brienne and addressed her with more reverence than he had anyone in his entire life.
"Lord Commander." He called beside her, raising his voice over then din of the weapons around them. Brienne turned and regarded him curiously. Although his excitement and longing for her made his voice unsteady, he hid that fact well as he continued. "I fear that my skills with steel are somewhat neglected. Far too much so to claim myself ready for battle." He confessed. The months he had spent recovering from his injuries, and caring for their son had left at least his confidence wanting proving. With a glint in his eye, and a lustful expression on his face, he turned to study Brienne. "Spar with me?" Jaime offered, his brow raised in challenge.
At first Brienne eyed him in shock. She could not imaging Jaime Lannister's proficiency with a sword ever in question. As she regarded him suspiciously, her eyes met his. Brienne could barely breath when she understood the suggestive and hopeful stare in which he held her. Images of the times their swords had clashed, or fought as one burst through her wary thoughts. There was no way she could possibly refuse him. "Of course, Ser Jaime." She agreed. "It would be my honor to assist you in honing your skills." She answered with a wanting tone of her own.
Jaime bowed his head, and gestured for Brienen to take her stance in the yard. "My Lady." He smiled coyly at her, conspicuously omitting her official title in favor of a more endearing one.
Brienne gave him a long slow look before straightening to her full height and walking a few paces ahead of him. Then she turned and drew Oathkeeper from its scabbard. Surely, he was not expecting an easy victory. That was one luxury she certainly had no intention of affording him. Jaime followed her, and bowed again before taking Widows Wail securely in hand. Cautiously they began to circle, sword tips only inches from each other, eyes intently surveying every move for any indication of attack. With a subtle forward charge, it was Brienne who struck the first blow. Jaime blocked her slicing motion effortlessly, and accompanied his move with a teasing grin.
The other members of the Kingsguard ceased their training and gathered around to enjoy the sight of the Kingslayer dueling with their Lord Commander. Locked in mock combat, Jaime and Brienne did not notice their audience. They were lost in the memory of another bought, at another time, and in another place. It was as if they had found themselves back on that bridge, before Locke and his men had ambushed them. Just as it was then, neither was willing to be the first to show weakness.
Jaime met Brienne's onslaught with unyielding force. He would not take it easy on her. She would see through that charade in an instant. She was a strong warrior, and a competent foe. He would not insult her that way. Besides, he surmised, he may have much to gain in a victory over her. Brienne slung aside his deflection, and matched him with another powerful blow which again he blocked.
Angrily, Brienne pulled back and resumed circling Jaime, trying for an opening to get behind him where she could render a crippling thrust. Jaime read her movements and himself stepped back, watching her prowl. "Please, do not hold back." He jeered, knowing the chiding would insight her. He was correct.
Brienne quickly sucked in a breath and advanced once more. Her sword and her ire raised, yet her face wearing a sarcastic glare. Somewhere at the edge of her discernment she noticed how the light bathed him, as if he were some kind of half god. The thought made her pulse quicken and nearly stole her breath. Jaime showed no mercy, using Brienne's enthrallment to advance upon her. He forced her back, but she held her own and was soon moving on him.
Their volley continued. The battle waged over the full breadth and depth of the yard. The guard watched in awe, some forced to move quickly out of the way at times. Jaime and Brienne were in a world of their own. Oathkeeper and Widows Wail grazed along each other, sliding, touching and caressing as if they were part of some perfectly timed dance. Brienne and Jaime moved as one being. Each two halves of the same whole. Where he would lunge, she would parry. When Jaime stretched to thrust, Brienne met his momentum with a solid block. When their blades joined in deadlock, their eyes and bodies spoke to each other, and heard the silent answers.
Jaime's muscles tensed, matching Brienne move for move. He studied her, almost sensing her reactions as he had when their bodies had celebrated in passionate revelry at Winterfell. As they had both yearned to do before then. He had never seen anyone more powerful, or more graceful. He had fallen in love with her so long before he admitted it even to himself. It was a delay that shamed him. If she would let him, Jaime would spend the rest of his lifetime making up for the moments he had stolen from them. Brienne had been his for short a time, and he wanted her back. That bond which he knew had always connected them screamed for her. He thought of how she felt in his arms, her glorious body so fragile in his hands. He wanted to lose himself in her. Just the memory of it began to make his cock react even while in the midst of their methodical battle. Gods he needed her. Gods he loved her.
Brienne was not shocked by the intensity of his gaze. Even as they moved together around the sparring yard, she could not take her eyes from his. Something deep within called to the place inside him that she was certain had always heard her across time and place. Even though they had been separated many times and for so long, if felt they had always been a part of each other. Perhaps even before they had met, some primal deep need both had felt but could not name had called out for the other. As they fought, neither willing to concede, her every nerve ached with longing for him. She wanted no more distance between them. Brienne knew the words that had justified his leaving were the truth. She loved him with all her heart, and now his explanations had removed any boundaries that had been placed between them. She would give in to him, but when?
The members of the Kingsguard knew what had transpired between their Lord Commander and the Master of War. They also began to realize that what was occurring before their eyes had nothing to do with preparing for war, and was a bout meant only for the two warriors now locked in the fight. Slowly, the men began to disperse from the yard, not wanting to be present to witness what they were sure could be a personal and private exchange. Soon Jaime and Brienne were the only ones left in the waning light of day, their battle still being waged.
Unaware that their audience had vanished, the two continued, their struggle intensifying as their lust grew more urgent. Brienne spun around trying to force Widows Wail from Jaime's hand, and throw him off balance. She slammed Oathkeeper side long into Jaime's blade. Their sword edges slid along each other, Valyrian steel ringing in a shrill symphony. Jaime did not yield an inch, but pushed Brienne's arm into a wide arc, and slammed into her forcing her backward. Her balance failing, Brienne dipped beneath Jaime's upswept arm, and turned quickly to meet his recovery.
Jaime whirled around, stopping Oathkeeper only inches from his head. He let out an exhilarated breath, and smiled, aroused by her prowess. A heady satisfaction filled him with awe for her. Brienne beheld him with a piercing gaze of her own. She forced her lungs to breath, so taken by the ardor in his regard that her body began to burn with passion. Then just as she was taken to the very height of her fervor, Jaime retreated, leaving Brienne trembling, wanting more. A soft disappointed gasp escaped her lips.
Jaime moved in time to Brienne's postures, her body twisting and turning, writhing with effort. He slid round her like a stealthy serpent, determined to penetrate her defenses. Their eyes met again, wide with fascination. Bodies drenched with sweat, Jaime and Brienne encircled each other, one's strength the other's weakness. Then as Brienne's entire stance seemed to beg for me, Jaime began the thrusts he knew would break her. His motions soft, slow at first, she matched his effort with a strong force of her own. His blade slid along the contours of her body searching for his opening. Then, still wanting satisfaction, he lunged quicker, harder. Brienne rocked to his timing, Oathkeeper seemed to pulse in resistance to him. Breathy panting burst from their lips, as they rode the intense waves of sensuality that threatened to wash over them. Unable to withstand holding himself at bay any longer, Jaime jabbed his sword harder at Brienne. She valiantly tried to match his barrage, groans of exertion echoing from her throat. At last, Jaime plunged his long hard steel weapon hard at Brienne.
She fell backward with the force at which he came at her. A high pitched surprised scream emanated from Brienne's open mouth and echoed through the courtyard, pleasuring Jaime's ears. Oathkeeper had fallen from her hand. Brienne lay before him, her chest heaving, surrendering to his victory. As she searched his eyes, the the words once spoken by her younger self clawed their way to the forefront of her mind, from where she had hidden them.
'Ser, I will marry you if you are able to best me in combat.' Brienne recalled the agreement she pledged to Humphrey Wagstaff, her suitor from long ago. She had left that man bloodied and broken, and felt herself fortunate in her victory. Brienne stared up at Jaime, and realized she had never been so joyful to taste defeat. Jaime stood above Brienne, blinking in disbelief. The look he wore held no pride in triumph. He watched her with admiration in his eyes. His regard held deference and awe.
After a moment, Jaime reached to take Brienne's hand. "My Lady." He offered. His heart swelled with respect and adoration as she accepted his gesture and he helped her to stand. He saw her settled, once more upon her feet, and bent to scoop Oathkeeper from the dust. He held Brienne's magnificent weapon in his left hand and rested it across his right arm, presenting it to her ceremoniously. The way he had the day he gifted his heart to her. Jaime fondly remembered the moment he had given her the soulmate of his own blade as a symbol of his love.
"Are you injured?" He questioned concerned, as Brienne took the sword and sheethed the blade he vowed would always be hers.
She shook her head, sweetly. "No, not at all." She smiled, her gaze reading his soul.
"Good." He said, relieved, his eyes never leaving hers.
Neither could deny the passionate intensity which passed between them. Something had been declared, wordlessly, in their fierce flirtation. Without waiting for Brienne to give her consent, for there was no need, Jaime took her fingers gently within his. Brienne did not resist. She stepped closer to him. Together, they walked from the training yard, hand in hand.
Jaime escorted Brienne to the steps of the White Sword Tower, their fingers entwined as they walked. There was hardly a word spoken between them, there was no need. Each felt the earnest longing that hung over them. They both realized that nothing would be the same. This night they would vow themselves to each other. It was inevitable.
As they reached the bottom of the staircase, Jaime raised Brienne's hand and held it close to his heart. "Take a few moments for yourself." He bid. "I will collect our son." Jaime's smile mesmerized Brienne as he backed away. All she could do was nod slowly, and watch him disappear through the tower doors.
In a daze Brienne followed the corridors to her apartments. Once she had entered, concealed from any prying eyes, Brienne leaned against door and smiled in giddy dreaming joy. She felt weightless and dizzy. It was as though she might lift from the floor board and float upon the soft love she felt for Jaime. Never had she known such reckless happiness. Brienne wondered if that was how young maidens felt when their hearts were stolen by a worthy suitor. She had no experience with such reactions. However, she knew what it was for a woman to lose herself in love. Brienne had felt that passion when Jaime had wrapped her in his arms at Winterfell and they shared themselves body and soul for short a time. This time it would be different. This time it was forever.
Brienne sighed deeply, and trailed her hands down her body, enjoying the tingling that was beginning to threaten her ability to stand. Almost in shock she realized she was still in her armor, and dripping with sweat. Aghast, she ran her fingers through her wet hair. She could not face Jaime in such a state.
Hurriedly Brienne unbelted Oathkeeper and deposited the magnificent weapon upon the mantle above the hearth. She had already given the blade a worthy session today. Surely it would not be needed during the night. Brienne quickly retrieved the buckets she kept on the terrace to gather water. She ran to her bed chamber, set the pails in the hearth to heat, and stripped off her armor and britches. She positioned the washing tub beside the fire and sat on the edge of a chair in only her tunic. Brienne tried to force her racing heart to settle. Forcefully, she calmed her breathing, and hugged herself loosely so she would not tremble. Her head was spinning, and her heart was full.
Within a short time the pails began to steam. Brienne rose and took several clean linens from her wash stand. She retrieved the buckets and filled the tub. Her tunic, she pulled off and let fall to the ground, her mind on other things. Exhaling luxuriously, Brienne stepped into the bath and slid beneath the warm enticing water. The heat in her own body rivaled the ripples that lapped against her skin as her mind filled with thoughts of the love making she hoped to share with Jaime that very night. She would not pleasure herself to thoughts of him, as she had on so many other evenings. There would be no need. This night, she would enjoy the real thing.
As Brienne washed herself and enjoyed her dreaming, she heard Jaime enter the quarters and smiled at the sound of Galladon's sweet giggle. She smiled to herself and called to them. "I'll be out in just a moment." Brienne exclaime.
"Take your time." Jaime's voice answered through the chamber door Brienne had left slightly ajar. "We are enjoying a very entertaining conversation." He laughed. Brienne grinned as she stepped from the bath and dried herself with the linens she had gathered.
Within moments Brienne, wrapped tightly in her house robe, walked into the parlor to the sight of Jaime rocking their drowsy babe in his arms. Brienne notice that he no longer wore his armor. He had obviously visited his own quarters to change into more comfortable attire. Her brow rose, intrigued, when she saw Widows Wail still strapped to his side. Her memories quickly returned to their earlier sparring session, her body growing aroused by the thought. The image of Jaime with Galladon took Brienne's breath away, and filled her heart with love. She bid herself to hold the scene in her memory, for a time when her babe was not so very little. A loving smiled warmed her face and graced Jaime as she entered the room. He met her with an enthralled expression of his own.
Jaime stepped toward her and set Galladon into her open arms. Mother and father stood for a moment, close enough to share and embrace with their child. "Lady Tarly will be ready to depart with the children tomorrow." Jaime informed Brienne in a low almost regretful tone. Brienne pressed her eyes shut against the thought of being parted from her son. She only nodded her understanding. Jaime understood and held Brienne close trying to reassure her, his own heart breaking.
After a moment, Brienne broke away from Jaime's arms. "I should feed him and see him to bed." She said somberly, knowing she would not be with him the next time he slept.
"I will wait here." Jaime answered softly. He would give Brienne a private moment with Galladon. She smiled sadly. Walking back to her bed chamber.
Jaime watched her go. His heart also wanting to break at the thought of the distance from their son he and Brienne would soon suffer. His comfort was the hope that the child would be safe. He strode sadly to the hearth and stared into the flames, voicing a silent prayer that he was correct. Raising his chin, Jaime's forlorn stare rested upon the glimmering metal of Oathkeeper's hilt. His face growing warmer, Jaime smiled, and lifted Brienne's fine sword from where it rested upon the mantle.
He thought of how his life had changed from the moment Catelyn Stark set him upon the road with Brienne of Tarth. He felt again how Brienne had stolen his heart and left him unable to stop his heart yearning for her. How he had longed for Brienne in the days he belonged Cersei, believing the images of her he had burned into his brain would be the only comfort he would ever know. Then, somehow Brienne was his and they had revealed in their love for each other. He lost her to save her, and now he would win her back. He would not leave her quarters again without securing her affections once more.
Jaime wished the rest of the world could see Brienne the way he saw her, vibrant, indomitable, bold, loyal, honorable, truly beautiful. But then, perhaps they never would have met, for someone would have surely made her his wife long before then. He shuttered to think of a life in which he might never have known Brienne. It would been a fate he knew he deserved, but one he could not have withstood. He imagined the cold sorrow that would have claimed him, longing for another heart which he could not find. Then he nodded to himself in satisfaction. Brienne would soon be someone's wife. She would be his bride.
Stepping back from the fire, Jaime held Oathkeeper's scabbard in place beneath his the elbow of his handless arm, and ran his fingers softly along the intricate leather as if it were Brienne's flesh. He sighed with yearning for her. With a proud smile, Jaime began to draw the blade from the its sheeth. As he did so, a tiny parcel fell from where it had been secreted under a ridge of folded leather. The object fluttered to the ground.
Jaime bent and retrieved the flat dry item from where it had landed at his feet. It crinkled in his fingers as he lifted the small red clump from the floor boards. At last he brought it close enough to his eyes to discern the nature of the mysterious piece. He gasped as he realized that it was the perfect rose which he had plucked from the hedge and gifted to Brienne as they walked in the garden with Galladon a fortnight before, when had begun his courtship of her. She had pressed it to preserve the keepsake, and now kept in Oathkeeper scabbard, near the gift of his heart he had once given to her.
A hopeful joy caused Jaime's heart to leap within his chest. All he had done, had turned Brienne's head and won her affections after all. 'At least act like you know her.' Tyrion's shrill rebuke echoed in his brain. As it were, Jaime did know Brienne, better than anyone. His smiled beamed as he studied the rose, and thought of her.
He thought of the child she had been. The one who had known so much hope, and seen it turn to bitter pain. She had been beguiled by the old stories of knights and their ladies, just as he had. Her young heart had wished for love and family. Much like the mother and siblings that had been denied her Brienne wanted all those thing a woman wants. Once, she dreamed the dreams of a young girl. She wanted suitors and courtships, betrothals and romantic notions, marriage and children. She wanted to be demur and ladylike. She wanted to be beautiful and admired. No one had ever allowed her even the dream of such a life, so she became the knight she did not believe would ever want her.
That was until the evening Jaime had followed Brienne to her chamber at Winterfell with the hope of all those things. No wonder she was as awkward and bashful as he had been. He himself had never truly lived the life of a carefree young man, courting the woman he loved. His future too, had been decided by other. For the first time those roles were real and possible for both of them. Then he had taken them all from her. With the exception of the babe she carried, Jaime had stolen away all of her dreams in the night. Not even when he had been merely a pawn to do Cersei's bidding had Jaime reviled himself as he did at the thought of how he had hurt Brienne. He knew she would appear before him from the bed chamber within a short time. If need be he would throw himself at Brienne's feet and beg her to love him again.
Brienne laid Galladon into his cradle. His stomach full and his mind drowsy, the babe had drifted into his slumber almost before he finished at her breast. Already feeling his absence keenly, Brienne held her child while she could, trying to commit every detail of him to memory. Even though it was very likely that she would be occupied fighting an invading threat, Brienne did not know how she would bear the separation from her child. As she pondered the overwhelming love she felt for her son, Brienne's mind wandered to his father, waiting just within the next room.
With Galladon settled comfortably into his quilt, Brienne took a moment to gather her strength before she faced Jaime. She stood before the hearth, staring into the flames. They both understood how much he had hurt her. That reality could not be denied. However, he had confessed all that had led him to those impossible choices, and she knew he spoke the truth. Since their parting he had known as much pain as she had. Heavy tears began to fall from her eyes as her focus was consumed by him. Brienne wanted to love Jaime again, she wanted to let go of it all. Every part of her was on fire for him. She longed for him, she needed him. Their bodies, their deeds, even their very eyes had penned their vows long ago. She wanted the wedding night they always should have had with nothing and no one standing between them.
Jaime loved her. He had always loved her. She knew that now, trusted it. When they had first traveled together toward King Landing he had begun to love her. The moment he turned around after leaving Harrenhal, he loved her. As he leaped into the bear pit, risking his own life, his love protected her. Jaime had given her armor to shield her and Oathkeeper to protect her when he sent her on the quest to find Sansa. So desperate Jaime was to keep her safe even then, he had sent her far from Cersei who would have surely known. He had done it all because because he loved her. Jaime had left Cersei and the only life he had known to join Brienne in the North because he wanted to be with her, unwilling to let her battle the Dead without him at her side. He had come to her chamber after, kissed her, and made love to her because it was what he had desired. Jaime left her only to ensure she would be safe. He had fought for life to return to her. He loved her, and she loved him.
At the sound of Brienne's door opening Jaime turned and stepped toward her, his face glowing with love and hope. In the dim light she walked slowly to him. Their eyes were soft and lustful as they beheld each other. Jaime noticed that Brienne had secured her dressing gown loosely, exposing an enticing amount of her perfect breasts to him. There was no timidity in her expression, no bashfulness or shame. She wanted this as much as he did. His body reacted to her in a glorious swell. As they met, Jaime fell to his knees before her.
"My Love." He declared, raising his eyes passionately to her. "I am yours. I have always been yours." He swore.
Brienne shook her head at his attempt. "Get up." She ordered, swallowing hard against her tears. "I do not wish anyone to bow before me." She said with a hint of sadness. Inhaling deeply to bolster her strength Brienne watched him regretfully. "I lied to you." She confessed.
Jaime's face grew worried as he rose to face her. "Brienne of Tarth, lie?" He questioned in confusion. "I do not believe it." He almost smiled at the absurdity of her statement.
She lowered her eyes, continuing bravely. "When I told that I finished your story so triumphantly in the White Book, because I feared my son would someday face your shame." Brienne's voice trembled on the verge of breaking.
"Brienne, I…" Jaime reached and took hold of her elbow. He wanted to tell her that he understood, but she pulled away.
She shook her head, imploring him to let her finish. "That is not why I chose the words I wrote upon your page." She looked him squarely in the eyes, her expression both sorrowful and loving. "The truth is that I could not bear for the world to remember you as anything less than the hero I know you to be." She asserted. Her gaze held him proudly.
Before Jaime could react, Brienne moved closer to him. "I don't want to be angry with you any longer." She affirmed. "I believe you." She said at last, bringing her hand up to hold his face. "And I forgive you." She absolved him, emotion nearly choking her, adoration shining in her eyes.
Jaime could hold back no longer. He took Brienne in his arms and held her as if he would accept no space between them. "My Darling." He said in awe, his own voice threatening to fail him, as he brought his lips to Brienne's and devoured them with an ardent kiss. A soft enticing moan rose from Brienne's throat as she surrendered to his advance.
The entire world seemed to disappeared around them as Brienne and Jaime moved deeper into their embrace, their lips tasting each other in a rapturous feast. Their tongues searched deeper and deeper. Hands traveled along the edges of their bodies, pulling and working at the fringes of clothing. When breath failed them, they drew in the air furiously, angry at the forced halting of their ravenous advances. Brienne threw back her head in ecstasy, Jaime's mouth trailed up her neck. His fingers slid tenuously into the opening of Brienne's robe, grasping the sensuous soft flesh of her breast, working her into submission. A needfulcry burst from Brienne's mouth. Jaime silenced her with another zealous kiss.
In that moment when their passion was nearing the point of explosive urgency, a loud signal sounded from the rampart of the castle. Startled, Jaime and Brienne pulled from each other only to see the sky outside the Lord Commander's window flash bright, as if it were on fire. A whirling barrage of flaming arrows flew above The White Sword Tower, soaring toward the inner courtyard. Even where they stood, protected by the structure's walls, the sound was piercing. The massive structure trembled beneath their feet as it was rocked by more burning projectiles catapulted from the Bay. Still locked in a tight embrace, Brienne and Jaime stared at each other in shock and terror. The Red Keep was under attack.