Based on events during Episode 4 of GoT Season 8

(Also includes flashback from Episode 7 of GoT Season 2)

The fire was roaring quietly in the hearth as Brienne fetched another log to ensure that her bedchamber would remain warm throughout the rest of the night. The effects of the wine seemed to have cleared through her system somewhat in the past hour or so; she certainly felt less light-headed anyway, which was a good thing. She still felt rather warm and fuzzy inside, although she wasn't sure if that was because of the fire or the lingering alcohol or because of the way her mind get drifting back to the vivid image of Jaime's dazed smile as their eyes had locked constantly throughout the night over their cups of wine.

She untucked her tunic from her trousers and loosened the knots ever so slightly so that she could relax a bit as she prepared to get ready for bed. It was far past the time she would normally have been asleep, and yet a part of her regretted leaving the feast when she did. She'd been having so much fun…at least until Tyrion's comment…and then Tormund's arrival…and then Jaime's argumentative mood out in the corridor. She sighed heavily, unable to suppress the disappointment.

Brienne stepped forward to put more wood on the fire when, over the sound of the flickering flames and howling wind from outside rattling against her window, she heard a tentative yet rhythmic thumping on her door. She paused and looked towards the door with a frown; who would need to see her at this hour? Perhaps it was Pod; possibly he'd drunk too much and needed help getting to his chambers. Or maybe it was Lady Sansa, needing help with a drunken riot downstairs, or possibly even something more severe.

Curious, Brienne crossed the room and opened the door. She felt her breath catch in her throat, and her expression faltered slightly in shock.

It was Jaime.

She blinked rapidly at the sight of him stood there in her doorway leant against the stone wall, his good hand gripping a pitcher of wine while his gold hand balanced two empty goblets against his chest. An awkward few seconds passed while the two of them simply stared at each other, speechless. Jaime looked rather shocked, as if he hadn't been expecting her to open the door.

Brienne raised her eyebrows at him questioningly, her heart racing. There could only be one reason why Jaime had climbed up all those steps to visit her alone in her bedchamber at this time of night – but no, Brienne couldn't think such improper thoughts. She must be mistaken.

Jaime merely continued to stare at her open-mouthed in sheer panic. Oh Gods, what do I do now?!

Eventually, he recovered his composure. 'You didn't drink,' was his greeting, and he averted his gaze as he brushed past her.

Brienne stepped aside to let him enter and watched him, perplexed, as he walked into the room. She wondered if he hadn't waited for her to invite him in because he knew she would have refused. Or would she have refused? Brienne wasn't sure. All she knew was that neither of them could ignore how it looked if an outsider in the corridor had witnessed him stepping through into her bedchamber. But she knew what she was accepting, and she realised she didn't remotely care. All she could focus on was her rapid heartrate and sense of building anticipation as she watched him walk unsteadily towards her table.

'I didn't drink?' Brienne said, shutting the door as he put down the pitcher of wine.

'In the game,' Jaime clarified, setting out the two empty goblets.

This befuddled her even more. They both knew he'd stopped playing games the moment he'd walked through the door.

'I drank!' Brienne said reproachfully, flustered.

'In the game!' Jaime insisted; she could tell that he'd been drinking considerably since they had bid goodnight earlier. 'This is Dornish!'

He was holding out the wine pitcher to her enthusiastically, only was surprised to see that Brienne had now walked over to stand on his other side.

Confusion furrowed her brow as she watched him pour some wine into a cup for her, her eyes darting back and forth between his face and the wine. He had undone his leather jacket, and abandoned all formalities. She had no idea what was going through his mind.

'This is not the game,' Brienne said, flummoxed, and she stared at him. 'This is only drinking.'

Jaime turned to face her, offering the cup of wine. 'Suit yourself,' he said smoothly.

Brienne took the cup from him, still rather stunned by his incomprehensible presence here in her room. Why did he want to drink, only with her? Was he this tipsy because he'd had to drink more in order to give him the courage to come here to her chambers? Or was she a fool to hope for that?

She realised then from the expectant look on his face as he watched her that he was actually being serious about the game. He was waiting for her to confirm whether or not Tyrion's statement about her maidenhood earlier had been correct. Was he really that bothered? Brienne hesitated before slowly, deliberately raising her cup to her lips and drinking.

Jaime felt very hot and bothered all of a sudden as he watched her sip. Her stunning blue eyes reflected the firelight, and the glow of the flames made her blonde hair shine. When she slowly lowered the goblet from her mouth, he noticed a droplet of red wine glistening on her lips, but the intense, confused gaze in her eyes soon regained his attention as a pointed pause fell between them.

His hand was shaking, his heart thundering. What a mess he was. Jaime tried to form a smile on his lips, but couldn't – all he could do was wonder about what madness had brought him here to her chambers. Had he really thought Brienne would let him get away with this? He couldn't back out now. He could tell that, confused as she was, even though she didn't quite realise yet what was happening or what his intentions were…deep down, she had her suspicions. And he had come up with no good – or innocent – excuse for his presence in her bedchamber at this hour.

Brienne's eyes drifted down to the pitcher of wine nervously as she realised that Jaime wasn't going to break the silence. She felt awkward, unsure of what to do. How could they keep this up without addressing why he was here? Jaime averted his gaze too, flustered, hoping that she was braver than he was now it had come down to this long-awaited moment. He'd never had to try and work for this before. He didn't know how to actively pursue her. The thought of jumping in a bear pit to rescue her again seemed much less of a challenge now.

He sighed as he tried to mentally pluck up the courage to make a move – a decent move, this time, he sincerely hoped – but this was harder said than done when he had absolutely no idea what to do. He was incredibly nervous. More nervous than even Brienne was.

'Well you keep it warm enough in here,' Jaime said, his tone almost exasperated as he brushed past Brienne again and walked towards her bed, trying to shrug out of the sleeves of his jacket.

Swallowing nervously while he began to peel off his top layer of clothing, Brienne slowly put down her cup of wine on the table and turned to face him. She watched, stunned by the casual intimacy of the gesture, as he aggressively tried to take off his jacket.

What is happening?

Her twitching hands came to rest anxiously on her breeches as she watched him, perplexed. 'It's the first thing I learnt when I came to the North – keep the fire going,' she said, trying to keep her voice steady as she rambled. 'Every time you leave the room, put more wood on.'

She couldn't help but frown bewilderedly at him as he finally managed to remove his jacket. Why was he even here? What was he doing?

Calm down. He's just taken his jacket off, it doesn't necessarily mean anything.

Jaime turned to face her, wishing that she hadn't had to watch him struggle with his jacket like that in his drunken state. He was mortified by his behaviour enough already without her looking at him like that.

'That's very diligent,' he said mockingly, as he discarded his jacket victoriously on the floor beside her bed. 'Very responsible.'

There was an amused glint in his eyes. He didn't want to make small talk about the fire or the temperature. There were better things to do now that they were finally alone, after all.

Although Brienne didn't often enjoy being teased, this time she didn't mind; it put her nerves somewhat at ease.

'Piss off,' she retorted, relieved that they had resumed their normal mockery, but she regretted the words as soon as she'd spoken them; she didn't want him to leave. At least, not without an explanation for why he had come.

'You know the first thing I learned in the North?' Jaime asked, and he closed the distance between them in just a few steps; she could feel the warmth of his wine-scented breath. 'I hate the fucking North.'

Brienne reciprocated his slight smile as his eyes bored into hers. 'It grows on you,' she replied, her tone almost flirtatious.

She felt her cheeks redden slightly as Jaime then shamelessly looked her up and down, undressing her with his eyes, which lingered on her lips and her exposed collarbone as he jutted his chin out. He looked like he wanted to devour her. She suddenly felt very self-conscious of the laces on her tunic, wishing she hadn't loosened them earlier. It had never once crossed Brienne's mind that she would ever be considered physically desirable by a man, but the way Jaime was drinking in the sight of her now was making her question everything she thought she knew about herself.

'I don't want things growing on me,' Jaime said, his voice a low, seductive growl as he moved past her back towards the wine.

He meant it; never in his life had he liked to form attachments. He didn't want to risk hurting anyone. But it was too late for that with Brienne. He was in too deep. She had captured his heart, and there was nothing he could do to change it.

'How about…Tormund Giantsbane?' Jaime asked, the wine spilling onto the table slightly as he poured himself another cup, and he looked up at her teasingly. 'Has he grown on you?'

Brienne stared at him, unimpressed, and tilted her head. Really? You're going to talk about Tormund here, now?

Jaime raised his eyebrows at her. 'He was very sad when you left,' he noted, taking a large swig of wine from his cup.

It dawned on Brienne in that moment that Jaime was talking to her, not as a fellow knight or his old friend whom he liked to irritate, but as a woman. She was incredulous. Did Jaime truly feel threatened by Tormund Giantsbane, that ridiculous buffoon of a man whom she had never once expressed any remote interest or affection towards? It was laughable. And yet he was expecting an answer, anything to reassure him, and so before she'd had time to consider the ramifications, Brienne decided to address their awkwardly ambivalent situation going on here.

'You sound quite jealous,' she said in barely more than a whisper, and her voice broke on the last word, betraying her nerves as she gazed at him, watching carefully for his reaction.

His heart skipping a beat, Jaime lowered his cup and nodded. He looked almost confused by her statement; even though he had known this to be true since the moment he'd met Tormund the other night, hearing it said aloud, by Brienne of all people, was rather bewildering. He had never been jealous before. And he'd certainly never displayed any such an emotion so obviously for other people to see before.

Brienne expected a snide remark or some horrified rebuff, but instead Jaime tilted his head at her thoughtfully, a slight frown on his face.

'I do, don't I?' he said, bemused.

Brienne's lips parted as she gazed at him, blinking slightly and completely lost for words. She felt a tingle rush through her.

Oh gods, is this really happening? Does he mean what I think he means?

The air was thick with heat and tension as they stared at each other, full of longing and expectation yet also full of uncertainty. They were both slightly stunned by what Jaime had practically just admitted aloud. Brienne couldn't help wondering if he was feeling uncomfortable or embarrassed, if he wanted to leave but didn't know how to.

Jaime averted his gaze anxiously as he realised that Brienne was only going to keep staring at him with such a confused expression until he made his feelings extremely clear. She was on to him, at least, that was a start. Simply put, they both knew deep down that he wanted her, and he strongly suspected – or rather, desperately hoped – that she wanted him as well. They were only separated by a few inches and minimal layers of clothing…and by fear of the unknown. All they had to do was embrace this opportunity they had, with no armour and swords and battles and enemies and dead men and possessive sisters acting as an obstacle in their path towards each other, and get over their trepidation so that they could finally act on something that had been blossoming between them for so much longer than either of them had realised.

But how?

Jaime wasn't a virgin, and he was certainly not unlucky in the looks department, so he couldn't understand why he was finding this so hard. Although, looking back on his experience – not that his sexual past was any healthy template to go on – he had to acknowledge that he'd never had to actually try before. Being fortunate enough to look like him, even with just one hand, meant that making an effort in the art of seduction or wooing did not come naturally to Jaime.

What do I do next? he asked himself desperately.

He just didn't have a clue; after all, his awkward drunken attempts at flirtation were not going as successfully as he'd hoped. If he was going to say anything to her, to let her know how his heart burned for her and how much he wanted her, now was his chance. He remembered the way Tyrion had pointed at his heart earlier…'Say what's in here.' Jaime felt momentarily inspired as he glanced briefly towards the fire roaring away cosily in the hearth.

But then, as he turned back to face Brienne, all that managed to come out of his mouth was, 'It's bloody hot in here!'

A hint of nervous laughter escaped his mouth as he met Brienne's perplexed gaze briefly before reaching up to yank at the collar of his shirt, and he began trying to undo the knots.

The best way to woo a woman? Take your shirt off! Yes, Jaime, what a wonderful idea. Well done, he thought bitterly to himself.

Brienne watched him for a few moments with a sceptical expression, beyond confused by what she was witnessing as he tugged helplessly at his collar with his one good hand. She tried to remain calm as she watched him struggle, telling herself it was a joke, telling herself that he had undressed in front of her before at the bathhouse in Harrenhal without any inappropriate motive in doing so. It didn't mean anything. He was just being a drunken idiot who was hot and bothered by the blazing fire. That was all. Nothing else to it.

This must be a joke. It has to be.

Mortified, Jaime grunted slightly as he kept going; his attempts at trying to untie the knot at the top of his tunic were not going well at all. He glanced up at her awkwardly from under his lashes, and realised then that he was the worst flirt in the history of Westeros. This was a disaster. It didn't help that Brienne was staring at him as if he were a madman. Resigned to the fact that fiddling at the knot with his left hand wasn't getting him anywhere, he scoffed and then, left with no other option, began yanking at the laces with his teeth.

The silence continued as Brienne's eyes darted from his awkward face, focussed on the task at hand, to the laces on his tunic, still refusing to budge. Her pupils dilated somewhat as the bizarreness of the situation overwhelmed her into feeling almost like laughing.

Is he really trying to…bite his shirt off?

While Brienne continued to puzzle over his actions, Jaime struggled on, wishing that he could just disappear through the floor and vanish forever. He didn't know what he was doing or why he had started doing this, but it was too late to turn back now. At least there was no one else present to watch the most embarrassing failure of Jaime's entire life.

As Brienne watched him, it then finally began to slowly dawn on her what he was doing…and why he was really here.

He's trying to undress. Alone. With me. In my bedchamber.

Her heart racing in terror, Brienne glanced to the side, unsure of what to do. Was he really going to just stand there and say nothing while taking half an hour to undress? She wasn't sure she had the patience for that. She glanced back at him and frowned at the absurdity of just how stupid he was being with that bloody tunic. Strangely, she then felt what seemed to be a surge of confidence as she realised that this really was what it looked like while Jaime still persistently tried to pull at the strings of his shirt with his teeth, like a complete idiot. She couldn't watch him a moment longer.

'Oh, move aside,' Brienne said abruptly, and she slapped his hand away with an air of irritation.

Jaime looked at her in alarm, his eyes wide; her impatient tone made his heart race even faster as she reached forwards and pulled him towards her by the strings on his tunic, taking control of the situation. Determined to try and act naturally, Brienne began to unlace his shirt in an almost aggressive manner, while trying to ignore the trembling, feverish sense of anticipation growing within her. Her hands were quick and forceful, which Jaime liked, but he noticed that her fingers were shaking ever so slightly from nerves, and a tender expression fell on his face as he gazed at her.

Inexplicably, Brienne found herself remembering his taunting words from many years ago as he'd teased her about the subject they were toying with this very moment. 'Maybe you wished one of them could…overpower you, fling you down, tear off your clothes. But none of them were strong enough…I'm strong enough.' She felt rather hot herself all of a sudden.

Brienne could feel Jaime's eyes on her, but she didn't dare look up at him and pretended to be focussed solely on working the knots out of his laces. Her fingers brushed against the top of his warm chest, sending a spark rushing through both of them, and she couldn't help wondering what was going to happen once she'd undone all the laces, and his bare chest was on full display? What would he say then?

As if in answer to her train of thought, Jaime took a step closer to her; their proximity no longer unnerved him, not when he knew how Brienne felt judging purely from the way her urgent fingers trembled against his skin as she undid his laces.

His hand was slow, gentle and sure when he lifted it up and reached for her own tunic. The moment his hand made contact with her collar, Brienne's fingers stopped and her breath halted as she immediately grabbed his hand.

'What are you doing?' she asked quietly, stunned, as she looked up at him.

Their eyes met and they both froze for a second.

'I'm taking your shirt off,' Jaime replied in an almost seductive murmur.

His voice was quiet and slightly breathless as he slowly, tantalisingly began to pull at the strings of her tunic, leaving Brienne dazed as the blood pounded in her ears and the insides of her stomach fluttered. His words were clear – he wanted her. Her. Jaime hesitated when he felt Brienne's disbelieving eyes on his, and he looked up to meet her gaze.

That was the moment when everything changed. As Brienne looked at him, her fingers clutched around his, she realised that she could no longer make any excuses to herself or deny what many had teased them both about. There was no mistaking exactly what Jaime meant and what he wanted now. He had made the step (albeit rather awkwardly) to make that move, to ensure that there was no more misinterpretation between them, to change the dynamic between them forever. And now it was up to her to decide what she wanted to do with that revelation.

Brienne's unsure gaze was irresistible as their fingers intertwined and she slowly moved his hand down from her neck and away from her tunic.

A slightly panicked look fell on Jaime's face. Seven hells, have I just ruined everything?

He'd been so sure that she'd wanted the same thing…after all, the way she had blushed and smiled and gazed at him during the feast had given him this confidence to be here right now, even if he had made a complete fool of himself since entering the room. But then he knew how afraid she must be by what was happening; he wanted to be respectful, and if she wanted this to stop before it went any further then he would completely understand. Perhaps it was wise, and they could talk about this under more sober circumstances.

But then the disappointment disappeared from Jaime's gaze as Brienne's fingers slowly trailed down the top of his chest through the open gap in his tunic, lingering slightly before she let go, and making his heart race. He stared wordlessly at her as Brienne made the decision that would change her life forever. She wasn't stupid; she knew that this man was conflicted, that his life had been turned upside down in the past month since he had left behind all that been familiar to him. But they had both cheated death. They had both somehow managed to survive the battle against the dead. And they both wanted this moment. So who was she to deny it?

It was time to finally make that choice to have something that she had wanted for such a very long time – to be with the man she loved.

Ever so slowly, Brienne then reached to her own collar and began unlacing her tunic. She was still unsure of whether she was doing this right – after all, physical intimacy was a completely new and strange experience for her – but she was resolved to get what she wanted…what they both wanted. Jaime's mouth fell open slightly, his intense gaze of surprise leading her to look down nervously so that she could focus on the knots of her tunic while she heard his breath begin to quicken.

As he gazed tenderly at her, Jaime suddenly felt as if the shock of seeing Brienne take this step for them both had sobered him up completely. He no longer felt light-headed or unsteady on his feet. He felt only pure adoration as he watched Brienne pull her laces free, unable to believe that this was truly happening. His eyes flickered to her hands as they worked on undoing her tunic, but he wasn't able to look away from her face for long; he was completely in awe of this woman…this incredible woman who somehow felt the same way and wanted him as he wanted her. He had never felt more in love as he did in this moment.

Brienne could feel the tingling warmth flood through her as she eventually reached the bottom of her tunic. She left it hanging open and glanced hesitantly back up at him. She knew that any other man would have diverted his eyes straight to her bare cleavage visible in the sliver of skin exposed, but Jaime was only looking into her eyes, his gaze filled with both awe and what she assumed was desire.

They were silent as they stared at each other. Only the crackling of the fire in front of them and the whistling wind outside could be heard. They seemed to have somehow moved closer to each other without even realising; there were mere inches between them now.

It was the lingering remnants of the wine in her system – not to mention his loving gaze – that gave Brienne the courage as she looked at Jaime, wordlessly telling him to stand still while she reached for the hem of his tunic and untucked it from his trousers. Jaime frowned slightly, bemused; where had this sudden confidence come from? Not that he was complaining. He lifted his arms up to help her; she silently pulled the tunic up and over his head, revealing his bare lean torso; her eyes lingered on the muscles and scars on his chest. Once they'd managed to pull the sleeve over his golden hand, Brienne then dropped his shirt on the floor. Jaime looked from his discarded tunic and back breathlessly to Brienne, his eyes widening in amazement.

I can't believe this is happening. I can't believe she's real. I can't believe she wants this, with me.

His eyes were so open and wide, and they caught her off guard slightly; they were filled with hunger, and disbelief, but also awe. He was looking at her like she was the most breathtaking woman he had ever seen. How could anyone look at her like that? It sent waves of heat rushing to her very core.

Brienne subconsciously reciprocated his open-mouthed, awestruck expression as she brought her hands to the open collar of her own tunic and slid it gently from her shoulders. She kept her eyes locked on his as she let it fall to the floor, and breathed deeply, her heart racing.

'Is that a woman?' Jaime vividly remembered asking, the very first time he'd laid eyes on her.

What a blind fool he had been.

They gazed at each other in silence for a moment, both of them stunned. This wasn't the first time they had seen each other's naked, scarred chests, but their bodies had never been so close before; they could feel the simmering heat emanating off each other. They longed for one another. They had dreamed for so long of what it would feel like to be in each other's arms. Now they were about to find out.

Jaime barely refrained from gulping as he focussed on her eyes and only her eyes, stunning and blue and twinkling as they reflected the firelight. He blinked rapidly.

'I've never slept with a knight before,' he said softly, gazing up at her in a way that made Brienne wonder for a moment if she really could be beautiful.

He said it to ease Brienne's nerves, she knew that; he was trying to reassure her, and boost her confidence as well by reminding her of her knighthood. After all, he wanted her to know that he hadn't just knighted Brienne because he'd thought they were going to die anyway – he'd meant what he did, because he truly believed in her. And to make love to Brienne of Tarth, the first female knight of the Seven Kingdoms, was monumental for him. He needed her to know that; after all, he never engaged in sexual relations with anyone just on a one-time basis or out of casual lust. This was a huge deal. An occasion, even, that meant more to him than Brienne could ever possibly know.

Brienne hesitated. 'I've never slept with anyone before,' she said, a slight tremor in her voice which confirmed to Jaime that she was just as scared as he was.

She had only ever known how to fight men, not to pleasure them. Although she was letting her feelings and the heat of the moment guide her into committing to what she so dearly wanted, Brienne had never done anything like this in her entire life; she had no experience or knowledge or expectations, and she didn't know what she was doing. But Jaime had changed her, and she knew from the way Jaime was looking at her that her insecurities and ignorance didn't matter. If anything, it only made Jaime more certain that this was right. She had never been kissed or loved by anyone before, and he wanted to give her these things and more. He knew that she was trusting him with her heart, something she couldn't control and something that terrified her, and this may not be the way he had planned it, but he wanted it to be perfect for her.

'Then you have to drink,' Jaime said calmly with a nod, his face unbelievably close to hers as he gave her a playful frown. 'Those are the rules.'

Brienne stared at him. He's still on about that stupid game?!

'I told you-'

But he couldn't contain himself any longer. Before she could catch her breath, Jaime had thrown himself up on his tiptoes and crushed his lips against hers.

Brienne gasped, so taken aback that her knees almost gave way and she stumbled backwards, but Jaime steadied her with his hand clutching the back of her neck, his bare chest pressed against hers as he kissed her like he had been waiting to kiss her for years, as if he had been holding his breath to do it and now their lips had finally touched, he could at last lose control. He kept his eyes open at first, wanting to make sure that she was all right, and a feverish jolt of excitement flooded through Brienne as his hungry, desperate kisses made her forget completely what she had been saying.

Once she'd got over the shock, Brienne began to kiss him back ardently, giving in to the years of pent up longing and lust; she had to stoop down a little as their lips moved passionately as one. The building tension that has been growing between them vanished as they lost themselves completely in each other, and Jaime's eyes closed as he felt the relief and joy of her reciprocation wash over him.

Losing all her inhibitions and letting the alcohol fuel her, Brienne straightened up as her lips moved just as urgently against his; the force of her kiss nearly knocked Jaime over, and he realised just how exciting this was for her – it was frantic, desperate, exhilarating, new, clumsy, and even a little awkward. And it was wonderful. She was still running on adrenaline from their unexpected victory of the battle, from the wine and laughter of the feast, from Jaime's presence here in her bedchamber and the way he held her now, his lips soft and sure and fervent against hers as he tangled his fingers in her hair.

Jaime frowned slightly in concentration as he tried to store every minuscule detail of this perfect moment in his memory, of her hands running up his chest and through his hair, of her intense kisses and the trepidatious tremble in her body as she let herself feel and anticipate what was going to come next. They were drunk, not just on wine, but on joy and victory and life and love, and they kept on kissing, almost like they were sparring, until they were both gasping for breath. They broke apart briefly for air, and their tender eyes met for a moment before bringing their smiling lips back to each other's, and they melted into each other, learning the way their bodies and mouths worked together, just like fighting. Brienne could get used to this…the feel of his nose and forehead pressed against hers, his beard scratching against her skin, his hand caressing her cheek, her hands around his neck.

Eventually they broke apart, and both Jaime and Brienne laughed briefly in relief, leaning their foreheads against each other's as they took a moment to let their breathing calm down. Jaime was smiling tenderly at her, his gaze loving and affectionate as he tucked a lose strand of her hair behind her ear, but then a wary expression fell on his face as he read the burning look in her eyes.

'We shouldn't,' he murmured.

Brienne tilted her head at him sceptically, her eyebrows raised in mock disappointment. There wasn't a chance that she was going to let him back out of this now. Jaime couldn't help but smile at the look on her face.

'Do you not want to?' Brienne asked breathlessly, her fingers brushing lightly against his collarbone as she kept her arms rested on his shoulders.

Jaime's lips parted slightly as he looked at her, unable to find the words. Her eyes caught the firelight. They did something to him.

'Brienne, I…' His voice broke slightly, and he cleared his throat to try again. 'I've never wanted anything more in my entire life.'

His voice was low, gentle and sincere when he spoke the words, and it made Brienne's heart skip a beat as she realised that he was being serious. She had always thought that she was undesirable, and for once, here was this man who saw all of her and wanted her the way she wanted him. She was desirable. She was worthy of love.

'Well then,' Brienne whispered, and she reached down for his right arm.

She slowly undid the straps that fastened the golden hand uncomfortably to his wrist, and removed it. Jaime hesitated slightly, uneasy, as she let the hand fall to the floor with a loud clunk. He swallowed nervously as he remembered just how repelled Cersei had been by his stump, but then of course this wasn't Cersei. This extraordinary woman stood before him now wasn't anything remotely like Cersei. He watched as Brienne slowly drew up his right arm towards her face, her eyes lingering over the permanent mark of the way Jaime had defended her honour all those years ago, before gently pressing her lips to the stump. When she leaned away, she saw that Jaime's eyes had welled up slightly.

'Are you sure?' he said softly.

Brienne smiled fondly at him. 'I am.'

Their second kiss was much slower – more tender, more loving. Her fingers stroked through Jaime's hair as he moved his hand up from her bare waist to caress her cheek and neck, as if he were cherishing the feeling of holding her like this, as if they were both melting into each other's arms. Brienne slowly began to loosen the knots of both their breeches, and, fumbling slightly, they both slowly shed their remaining clothing as Jaime's lips found her neck. The full nudity didn't unnerve Brienne as much as she had expected, but then again they had bared their souls to each other in the past, on those traumatic excursions in the Riverlands and at Harrenhal, so naked bodies no longer seemed much of a big deal where Jaime and Brienne were concerned.

Lacing his fingers with her, Jaime slowly led her backwards over to the bed, guiding her one step at a time; they stumbled slightly and laughed against each other's lips until they sat down beside each other on the fur covers, stroking each other's skin and scars.

Jaime's nose brushed against hers as he tilted his head, breaking away briefly to gaze into Brienne's eyes, and he smiled as she brought his lips hungrily back to hers in another tender kiss. His hand ran through her hair and she cupped his cheeks; they ended up bumping foreheads and both laughed softly against each other's lips. When they eventually broke apart, there was a small, dazed smile of disbelief on Jaime's face; he looked as if he had wanted this forever. Brienne rested both her hands against his chest as he planted multiple kisses on her cheeks, eyelids, nose and forehead, making Brienne chuckle, before finally resting his lips once more against hers.

'Are you nervous?' he asked softly, rubbing his nose against hers.

'A little,' Brienne admitted.

In her time spent around soldiers and camps and taverns, Brienne had seen what men and women's bodies could do together. But she had only witnessed it as an outsider, ignorant to what it really meant, accepting that it would never be something she herself would experience. But now here she was, with Jaime pulling her close to him and placing her palm right over his chest, where she could feel his heart thumping rapidly. He smiled tenderly at her.

'If it's any comfort, I am as well. This is new for me too,' Jaime murmured. 'And I want this to be…perfect for you.'

Brienne felt like her eyes might well up with tears, but she was glad they didn't as she reached out to stroke his cheek. 'It already is.'

Overcome with emotion at the sincerity of her words, Jaime smiled and leaned in to kiss her, and he slowly lay her down onto her back on the fur covers of the bed. For a moment Brienne felt shy and graceless; after all, she was far too big and awkward for this, but as Jaime lay above her, murmuring reassurances while he stroked and kissed every part of her until they fit themselves together as one, she felt all her uncertainty disappear.

Brienne had assumed, rather nervously, that Jaime would have been as aggressive at this as he was as a warrior, but instead he was a gentle lover, tender and careful but also firm…and filled with passion. He took his time to explore and cherish every part of her, while frequently asking her if she was sure and if she was comfortable. Brienne could only moan her satisfaction in response, her firm hands and eager lips urging him to continue.

She wasn't as timid as Jaime had anticipated. Although slightly clumsy and unpractised, she was very certain about what she wanted, and eager to explore him in turn as she wrapped her arms and legs around him, pulling him even closer. It was as if she had been wanting this, with him, for years. Inexperience certainly didn't render her shy, and although the noises emitting from her mouth didn't match the volume of her groans out on the battlefield, she certainly didn't keep quiet.

The years of tension unravelled gloriously between him, and Brienne was glad when Jaime held her tight and kissed her fiercely; she needed further verification that this was real, that he was with her, that he wanted her, tonight. Even in her wildest dreams she had never once believed such a thing could ever happen…and yet here they were, their bodies tangled together in an intimate embrace like neither of them had ever known

They were tender and loving with each other, saying with their bodies what they had never quite been able to put into words. It felt like every stolen moment between them had led to this, to this moment that seemed to go beyond the physical realm, and yet at the same time it felt as if they had been doing this for as long as they had known each other. Their souls spoke to each other as they took a great shuddering breath and drowned in each other's eyes, and in that moment Jaime realised that it had never been like this before for him. This was beyond bliss. It wasn't just a bodily pleasure; it was a connection, an eternal bond taking place between him and the woman he loved. Neither of them could remember ever feeling as true to themselves as they did while they held and kissed and cherished every inch of each other, and so the two unlikely lovers became one in a night both Jaime and Brienne knew they would never ever forget.

According to the all-high-and-mighty Lady Stark, the strange lumbering beast stood before him in the dark pen outside was a 'truer knight' than he would ever be. It had taken every bit of effort in Jaime not to burst out laughing at such a statement. A woman – if you could call that a woman – being referred to as a knight? It was ludicrous.

But what was even more ludicrous was the proposition now coming out of Lady Stark's mouth as she glared down disdainfully at her prisoner. He couldn't believe what she meant to do. He couldn't believe how stupid she was being. And he couldn't believe the unfortunate sight of her female armour-clad bodyguard looming behind her.

'Forgive me, Lady Stark,' Jaime said slyly, after a slight hesitation, 'but I'm a little confused – am I being released?'

'Don't mistake your lack of cell for your freedom,' Lady Catelyn said warningly. 'You will be in Lady Brienne's charge for the duration of your journey to King's Landing, as her captive.'

At this, Jaime couldn't help but chuckle. 'I'm sorry, you expect this…thing…to keep me hostage?' he said sceptically, and Brienne held her head up defensively, her nostrils flaring as she scowled down at the grotty, hateful prisoner. 'Really, Lady Stark, I never took you for a fool.'

'Your gravest mistake will be underestimating her abilities,' Lady Catelyn said fiercely.

'And your gravest mistake will be underestimating mine.'

He said the words smoothly, almost politely, and yet there was no hiding the threat in them. He stared up at Lady Catelyn, and then his eyes flickered to the miserable oaf of a woman stood beside her. Even with it being this dark, he could see just what a joke she was.

Jaime turned back to Lady Catelyn. 'So you're freeing me from my cell, to be sneaked away with your, err, charming companion here in the dead of night, without noble King Robb here to give his permission,' he said, and he raised his eyebrows at her. 'That would be treason, would it not? Why betray your own son like that?'

There was a pause.

'I want my daughters back,' Lady Catelyn replied eventually, her voice tremoring with fury.

'And you're hoping my family will exchange them for me, I see.'

'No, I know they will,' Lady Catelyn corrected him, 'because I'm not releasing you from this cell until you promise this will happen. You will swear a solemn vow.'

'And you would believe the word of a man whom you just reprimanded for breaking his oaths?' Jaime said, incredulous. 'You must be desperate.'

'All mothers are desperate where war and their children are concerned,' Lady Catelyn said, 'particularly when they are being kept hostage by the family who cut off their father's head.'

Jaime grimaced. 'Yes, that was…unfortunate.'

Brienne was met with an urge to beat the man firmly into the ground for insulting Lady Catelyn so deeply, but she restrained herself. She hadn't even spoken directly to him herself, and yet she already despised him. He had killed an innocent man in this pen merely last night, all just so that he could return to his brutal home in the capital; Brienne felt somewhat uneasy about the prospect of rewarding his behaviour by escorting him there. If Lady Catelyn was indeed serious about her plans to send them both to King's Landing, then these next few months would prove to be very testing for her.

It soon transpired that Lady Catelyn was serious – they took advantage of the darkness of the night sky and the sleeping soldiers around the campsite by swearing their solemn vows to her there and then in the pen. The moment Brienne had made her oath, Lady Catelyn took her sword and pressed it hard against Jaime's chest.

Even now that they had set off and left Robb Stark's campsite, Jaime could still hear Lady Catelyn's words, wavering in despair, as the poor, naïve woman desperately pleaded with him to pledge himself to her cause.

'Swear that you will compel your family to honour this pledge and return my daughters safe and unharmed in exchange for your return.' … 'Swear it on your honour as a knight, swear it by the old gods and the new, and I'll send you back to your sister…'

She had urged them to act quickly, and so the moment Jaime had reluctantly said the words, Brienne had grabbed him roughly by his shoulders and restrained him with manacles and a rope for the road. After speaking privately with Lady Catelyn, Brienne had then marched him forwards and they'd left the pen in a hurry. By some miracle, the two of them had managed to leave the campsite unseen, although Jaime's legs were wobbling unsteadily as they made their way into the woods, where Lady Catelyn had said there would be two horses waiting for them.

'I fear I may need help standing,' Jaime muttered as they hurried on. 'I haven't walked in quite some time, I'm sure you'll understand.'

'Shut up and move,' Brienne snapped roughly, jabbing him forwards as she peered through the trees, her eyes wide and alert as she looked out for any sign of soldiers.

'I'd like to say it's nice to meet you as well, but I'm afraid I wouldn't be being completely honest,' Jaime replied, stumbling. 'I'm only sorry you'll have to die, but I'll make it quick and painless, I assure you.'

'I'd like to see you try, Kingslayer,' Brienne snarled in a gruff voice, frowning as his legs kept failing him.

She reluctantly put her arm around him to help keep him stood upright; as much as she hated to touch such a man, it was crucial that they get out of this part of the woods as soon as possible, before Robb Stark's men awoke to find that their prisoner was gone.

Jaime looked around at her, but couldn't appreciate the hilarity of her face and stupid get-up in close-view due to the pitch blackness of the night. He would have that to look forward to tomorrow once dawn broke, no doubt.

'I'm merely jesting.'

'Jesting or not, if you're already planning on going back on your oath to Lady Catelyn, you can think again,' Brienne said shortly as she walked them on hurriedly; she sighed in relief when she caught sight of the two horses tied up to a nearby tree, waiting for them as Lady Catelyn had arranged.

From her speech, Jaime assumed that this strange, grumpy woman was highborn. But from where had Lady Catelyn had the misfortune to come across this sad, lonely, lumbering creature? Where did someone like her even come from? And why was she dressed so ridiculously? What was the point in her?

'It's nothing personal, I assure you. At least, not yet, it depends how annoying you are,' Jaime said thoughtfully, tripping slightly as she kept him upright and led him towards the horses. 'Who are you again, anyway? I'm sorry to say I wasn't particularly listening to Lady Stark earlier, I was still rather in shock when I saw you. I pity any man who-'

But he was interrupted as out of nowhere Brienne put a hood tightly over his head, obscuring his view completely and muffling his voice. She was almost suffocating him in her efforts to silence him, but she didn't seem to care that much that he was struggling to breathe under the hood, despite her promise to keep him safe and alive. Perhaps she was like him and didn't care about the oath they had just made to Lady Catelyn after all. He tried protesting through the hood as Brienne forced him up onto one of the horses, but the brutish woman merely ignored him.

And in that moment Jaime knew he was going to kill this irritating bitch the first opportunity he got.

~ Present Day ~

Brienne's bedchamber glowed with the warmth from the fire, the flames and their heavy breathing the only sounds that filled the room. His fingertips traced lightly along her bruised arm and bare stomach as they lay beside each other beneath the furs, content and disbelieving. He watched her as she gazed wide-eyed up at the ceiling, lost for words, and he smiled.

'What?' Jaime asked her softly, breaking the comfortable, awed silence.

Brienne's cheeks reddened at once as she glanced briefly at him. 'I just…'

'Go on,' Jaime encouraged, his tone teasing as he leaned around on the bed to face her, and he propped himself up on his elbow as he smiled.

Brienne leaned on her side to face him as well, and she began to chuckle at the tantalising grin on his face. Jaime joined in; her joy was infectious.

'What?' he repeated, still laughing along with her, and he reached out to brush some of her hair back that had stuck to her forehead.

She pressed her lips together as she gazed at him. 'I can't believe we did that,' she murmured.

'I know!' Jaime whispered, looking gleefully bemused, and his expression turned tender as he tilted his head at her. 'But I'm glad we did.'

'You are?'

'Hm-hm.'

Brienne smiled warmly, a smile like none he had ever seen before. 'Me too,' she said, leaning in to meet his lips, as if kissing was suddenly a common, familiar thing for them to do now.

'You have no idea how long I'd been waiting just to kiss you,' Jaime murmured, stroking her cheek. Truthfully, he didn't even think he had any idea how long he'd been waiting.

Brienne frowned at him sceptically. 'Jaime, you don't have to say anything like that, it's all right, I was never expecting-'

'I wouldn't say it if I didn't mean it.'

Brienne gazed at him. She supposed he must still be too drunk to think straight. No doubt he would come to his senses tomorrow and speak normally. But for now she could make the most of this soppy man entangled in her arms and gazing lovingly at her. She stroked his cheek and touched her lips to his tenderly again.

'Did it hurt?' he asked her in concern, as she leaned away.

Brienne hesitated slightly, thinking to put on a brave face, but then reconsidered – after all, after what had just happened, she could be as honest with Jaime about absolutely anything. 'A little, at first. But I'm used to pain, and this was…a different kind. It was good,' she replied, stroking his cheek; Jaime closed his eyes, relaxed, as her fingers ran through his messy hair. 'Is it always like that, between a man and a woman? Was that…usual?'

Jaime breathed deeply as he opened his eyes and gazed at her. 'No.'

'Oh,' Brienne said, withdrawing her hand away from his face and averting her gaze, embarrassed. 'I'm sorry, I didn't really know what I-'

'No, Brienne, you misunderstand,' Jaime interrupted her reassuringly, and he chuckled. 'I meant 'no' in a positive way. It's a good thing.'

He meant it. It had never been as loving before with Cersei, nor as long and tender, nor as filled with emotional connection. It had almost felt like it had been Jaime's first time as well. Brienne's lips parted, awestruck as she saw the sincerity in his gaze.

'Everything's changed,' Brienne murmured, slowly intertwining her fingers with his.

'I know.' Jaime smiled; he wasn't worried.

'Will you…sleep here with me tonight?' she asked him tentatively.

'Of course,' Jaime replied. 'If you'll have me.'

Brienne nodded. 'Always.'

He leaned in to kiss her before murmuring reassurances that they would talk in the morning once they had got some decent sleep, and so together they settled down under the fur covers, enveloped in each other's arms, as they both thought back over what had just transpired between them. Brienne was still relishing in the intimacy and newness of such an experience while Jaime felt overwhelmed by just how content he was in this very moment, as if he had finally been able to let go and act freely of his own will and heart for the first time in years. Holding her like this felt so right, like it had always been meant to be. It had certainly been a night that they both knew had been a long time coming. They had fallen in love, and were no longer afraid to hide it, to themselves or to each other. And it was a blissful oblivion…a feeling they both very much hoped would last forever.