Based on events during Episode 4 of GoT Season 8

(Also includes flashback from Episode 3 of GoT Season 3)

Jaime was too overwhelmed by his emotions to sleep, but Brienne soon drifted off as the fire in the hearth crackled close to them soothingly, and he lay there content in simply listening to the reassuring sounds of her deep breathing. He was still in awe over what had just happened.

How is it possible to love someone this much? he wondered, as he turned to look at her back with a half-longing half-worried expression on his face.

He watched her as she slept on peacefully, blissfully unaware of the storm of panic and fear raging on in his mind.

The euphoria of finally being with Brienne was slowly beginning to wear off, and now the anxiety and doubt was slowly but surely taking over his troubled psyche as the hours ticked by and the wind continued to howl outside and rattle against the windows. Jaime had never felt more confused or scared or vulnerable in his life. He had taken a huge step tonight. He had turned his back on Cersei's abuse and hold over him once and for all, and now lay in the same bed as someone who didn't abuse him or treat him like easily-manipulated dirt, but someone who he believed truly loved him. And yet this was uncharted territory. He had never done anything like this before, and the vivid memory of how the glorious events of tonight had transpired left him feeling rather conflicted as he dwelled on the implications, both good and bad, of what would happen next, and of the complex circumstances of both their lives.

Jaime had loved Brienne for far longer than he had realised, but he hadn't exactly shown this love to her in the way he had envisioned. He had attempted to woo her while intoxicated, which had somehow inexplicably worked, and then bedded her. Looking back at it now, it left Jaime feeling rather ashamed; he had contemplated making love to Brienne before, but he had never once dreamed that it would have come about like this, while they had both been drunk. If they had both been sober and sensible, they might have stopped for a moment to think seriously about what they were getting themselves into, but no – he had taken her virginity, something he valued even if Brienne's views on the matter had become more pragmatic over the years, and he might have very well tarnished her reputation. He had dishonoured her, something Jaime had greatly feared would happen when he had made the decision to ride up North to join her in Winterfell.

And he had dishonoured Cersei as well.

'I've never been with any woman but Cersei…' he had once boasted right in front of Lady Catelyn's brave female protector, whom at the time he'd thought hideous and ugly and unworthy of recognition. How wrong he had been.

And yet, although he hated to admit it to himself, Jaime felt guilty for sleeping with someone other than the one woman he'd been with his entire life. He knew it was right and healthy and good for him to have made such a huge step in moving on, to finally be true to himself and be with the woman he wanted to be with, but still. His fidelity had been one of the few parts of his honour that he'd still clung to, and now that was gone as well. He was still raw from leaving his sister the way he had back in King's Landing. How could he have abandoned her in the middle of a war when she was pregnant with his child? He had broken his vow of loyalty to Cersei, someone he'd thought he had been truly in love with. But he had been mistaken.

Now he knew differently. Now he knew what true love, romantic love, really was. Now he could even consider the potential of a happy future with Brienne.

But Jaime was afraid to let himself hope for such a thing. All he had ever known was Cersei. He had been committed to her his whole life, and he had always felt an irrevocable obligation to his family. Somehow he knew that obligation would eventually draw him back in. He didn't know how or when, but he knew deep down that someday it would happen.

To avoid causing more pain to both him and Brienne, he had even contemplated riding back south to the capital the other day after the battle against the wights, thinking it might be for the best. But instead he had fought against the self-loathing and sense of duty that kept threatening to consume him, and had decided to give himself a second chance at life, a chance at happiness…a chance to stay with Brienne and be with her, because by some miracle that was something Brienne seemed to want as well.

But Jaime knew that he didn't deserve the woman sleeping and dreaming happily beside him. As much as he loved her, as happy as she made him, he was just simply not worthy of her. After all, how could he be? He had very little to offer her in return for all she had given him – he was an exile now, on the run from his monstrous sister, and with no lands and titles and ambitions, and not a clue of what his future had in store for him. He couldn't give Brienne everything she deserved. And she needed to be with someone far better than him – someone who hadn't spread Cersei's disease in destroying the Seven Kingdoms, someone who wasn't plagued by inner struggle and self-hatred and nightmares of past immoral deeds.

Jaime's face fell slightly as he gazed at the nape of Brienne's neck, her bruised back, the soft curls of her short blonde hair as she slept. He hated himself. Even if she had truly wanted it too, he had still taken advantage of her, someone he loved and admired. He had betrayed the two most important women in his life – Cersei, for abandoning her alone and pregnant in the savage capital, and Brienne, for dishonouring her and taking her maidenhead, while knowing she was an unmarried highborn lady.

The way his bare skin touched hers as she slept made him shudder involuntarily. Even his body felt guilty now.

He had acted selfishly, without thinking of the consequences. The war was still going on – both queens Cersei and Daenerys most likely wanted him dead, and now he had dragged Brienne into all of this. He was a horrible person from a notoriously monstrous family, and he had knowingly brought her into that darkness. But it was too late to turn back now. He and Brienne had crossed that bridge. And she had been drunk, just like him – she might feel differently tomorrow morning. She might be angry with him, as she had every right to be. It scared Jaime deeply that she would wake up in a few hours and say it was a mistake. He might have ruined one of the few good things in his life. He may well have just lost his best friend.

And yet somehow he doubted it. He knew Brienne. He could read her better than most. And he'd known how she felt about him since the day he'd given her Oathkeeper years ago.

Jaime turned away from her wistfully and stared up at the ceiling.

I'm not good enough. Please don't let me hurt you.

He had no idea what to do. He knew what he should do, for her own wellbeing – leave at once and never return. But he didn't want to do that. He would never want to do that. He didn't know what was going to happen and he didn't know if he deserved the love of the woman lying beside him, but all he did know was that, despite his turmoil and his conflicting thoughts on tonight, he didn't regret what had happened. Perhaps that was why he felt so guilty – he knew he ought to regret what he had done, but he just felt glad and at peace and even giddy inside. He so dearly hoped she felt the same way.

'I'm not sharing a horse with her. I don't want-!'

'Well tough shit,' Locke spat, leering at Jaime. 'Seems unfair to force the lovers apart, after all.'

Jaime turned to glare bitterly up at Brienne, who was stood with ropes bound around her waist; she scowled back at him.

They'd been outnumbered when Locke and his men – soldiers under the command of Roose Bolton, apparently – had confronted them on the bridge, and so had been left with no choice but to go with them. Jaime had tried to convince the brutish men to merely let him and Brienne join their group as fellow soldiers while they journeyed towards Harrenhal, but he had been a fool to think he could smooth-talk his way out of this, particularly with the price on his head and all the men in the Riverlands out looking for him. So Jaime was still a captive – only this time, his captor was as well.

To her outrage, Brienne had had her sword and armour forcibly removed from her, revealing a tall and awkward shape in a tunic, jerkin and breeches, but her figure was not as large as Jaime had originally thought; indeed, she was quite thin. It had taken Locke and his men a great deal of time to get over the amusement of her gender, but Jaime had a dark feeling inside that this would not be a topic of amusement for much longer.

Although it was deeply irritating that they had been captured – after all, it would only make Jaime's escape even more challenging and delay his return to Cersei longer – a part of Jaime couldn't help feeling somewhat relieved that they had been interrupted. It had saved him the embarrassment of being beaten at a sword fight at the hands of a woman. He didn't think he could have ever stood the shame.

To both their mortification, Locke forced Jaime and Brienne to share a horse before they went on their way. They were both hoisted up in their restraints onto the saddle so that they were sat back-to-back, and then bound to each other tightly with ropes. Brienne was horrified; she had agreed to escort Jaime safely back to the capital, but sharing a horse and being within such proximity hadn't been part of the bargain.

'This is completely unnecessary-' But Brienne's protests were cut short as Locke slapped her roughly round the cheek; Jaime flinched at the sound.

They set off not long after that, half of Bolton's men leading the way through the woods while the other half followed at the rear and kept a close eye on their new hostages, all the while laughing and jeering about the unfortunate so-called 'lovers'.

'Are you all right?' Jaime asked over his shoulder; he wouldn't be surprised if her cheek had bruised after Locke had struck her.

'What do you care?' Brienne muttered.

Jaime rolled his eyes and remained silent for a while, fed up with her glum attitude. He'd thought their sword fight earlier had been quite fun, a chance to bond, but perhaps she saw it differently. Even if he had fatally wounded her – which, judging from her incredible fighting skill demonstrated on the bridge, would never have happened anyway – he wouldn't have meant it personally. He respected Brienne of Tarth in a way. It was just a shame she kept getting in the way of things.

He didn't like being close to her. There was a strange kind of intimacy that had been forced between them at being tied up on horseback back-to-back like this, and it almost felt like he was being unfaithful to Cersei. At least Brienne made it clear that she was no happier about this than he was.

As they rode along, the Bolton men then began to sing a rousing chorus of 'The Bear and the Maiden Fair', presumably in mockery of their new captives.

'He lifted her high in the air

He sniffed and roared and smelled her there

She kicked and wailed, a maid so fair

But he licked the honey from her hair

From there to here, from here to there

All black and brown and covered with hair

He smelled that girl in the summer air

The bear, the bear and the maiden fair…'

Jaime raised his eyes in despair as the men continued to sing around them. 'I hope you're pleased,' he said sarcastically to Brienne behind him. 'If you had armed me, they never would have taken us.'

'You were armed when we were taken,' Brienne pointed out.

'I was in chains, if you recall,' Jaime snapped irritably as they continued to ride on. 'Our little match would have ended quite quick if my hands weren't bound.'

Brienne frowned at the insinuation. 'All my life I've been hearing, "Jaime Lannister, what a brilliant swordsman"…' she said almost mockingly, her tone cynical. 'You were slower than I expected. And more predictable.'

Jaime rolled his eyes, angry by how much he was letting this beast hurt his pride. 'I've been sitting in a muddy pen wrapped in chains for the past year!' he said indignantly.

'And I'm a woman,' Brienne pointed out. 'I was still beating you.'

'You were not beating me,' Jaime said firmly.

He wracked his brains as he tried to come up with proof to justify his statement…but as he thought back to their swordfight, he could think of nothing. She had knocked him to the ground when Locke and his men had found them. If they had arrived a few second later, Jaime would have been forced to yield to her. The thought made him want to throttle her and yet also express his admiration at the same time.

Jaime was mortified then as he realised that, to an outsider, he and Brienne were sounding like an old married couple bickering away as usual as they continued to argue on the horse. It would only give Bolton's men further fuel to tease them. But Brienne didn't seem perturbed by this fact.

'Maybe you were as good as people said…once,' she went on disdainfully, as she inclined her head back to make sure he could hear her. 'Or maybe people just love to overpraise a famous name.'

There was a pause as her words cut Jaime just as much as her sword had this morning. Could she be right? Was it his family name that had granted him such a legendary reputation, rather than his skill? Had he really deteriorated so much in his ability to fight?

The stupid bitch knows nothing, he thought to himself bitterly. She's just trying to wound my pride and get inside my head. Well two can play at that game.

'When we make camp tonight, you'll be raped. More than once,' Jaime said bluntly, and his voice broke slightly.

He said the words out of anger at her previous remark, but as he spoke them he realised that he was actually quite worried about the inevitability of his statement coming true in a mere matter of hours.

'None of these fellows have ever been with a noblewoman,' he went on, as Brienne's face fell; he felt her shoulders tense up against his. 'You'd be wise not to resist.'

'Would I?' Brienne muttered angrily.

It hadn't even occurred to Brienne that these men would try to rape her; she didn't see herself as a woman that way. She'd vowed to herself years ago that she would never lie with any man unless he was her husband or unless she truly loved and trusted him – both options which she knew would never happen for her. Nevertheless, she would not let these ghastly soldiers ruin that promise she had made to herself in her youth.

'They'll knock your teeth out,' Jaime said.

'You think I care about my teeth?' Brienne asked sceptically.

'No, I don't think you care about your teeth.'

Brienne's silence unnerved him; he knew that, at the slightest provocation on her part, Locke and his men would do much worse than assault her. He respected how fearless she was determined to be, but her attitude left him slightly agitated. He was trying to advise her on how best to survive through this ordeal, as much as he disliked her. Why wouldn't she listen?

Jaime leaned his head back towards her. 'If you fight them, they will kill you. Do you understand?' he said urgently, keeping his voice quiet so the surrounding soldiers wouldn't hear. 'I'm the prisoner of value, not you. Let them have what they want. What does it matter?'

'What does it matter?' Brienne said incredulously.

She was disgusted with him. How did he have any right to say such a thing? He didn't know what it was like to be a woman, let alone an ugly one. He knew nothing.

Jaime regretted his choice of words instantly, but carried on nevertheless. 'Close your eyes. Pretend they're Renly,' he insisted, his voice almost back to its usual sly tone.

'If you were a woman, you wouldn't resist? You'd let them do what they wanted?' Brienne asked him bitterly.

'If I was a woman, I'd make them kill me,' Jaime said heavily. 'But I'm not, thank the gods.'

Brienne's scowl slowly fell from her face as they rode on in forlorn silence. While she remained deep in thought on how she would no doubt end up fighting to the death tonight, just like Jaime would have done if he were to be in her position, Jaime found himself consumed with guilt. In his irritation, he had blurted out something horrible to Brienne and he had most likely frightened her, as much as she acted otherwise. He almost felt inclined to apologize, but he had only been trying to warn her so that she could mentally prepare herself for the inevitable.

Poor, stupid, brave woman.

'You never know, you might be in luck – they might not want to have you with you smelling this bad,' Jaime said airily, in a rather dismal attempt to cheer her up.

Brienne frowned in outrage. 'Excuse me, I smell bad? This coming from the man covered in dirt and mud and his own faeces from the past year?' she said, and Jaime raised his eyebrows in amusement.

'All right, fine, we stink together. Perhaps we're well-suited after all,' he said begrudgingly, his lips twitching.

He noticed that her shoulders were still rather tense; no doubt she couldn't stop thinking about what he had said. He needed to distract her.

'May I use your shoulder as a pillow, my lady?' Jaime said slyly, stretching and sighing as he leant his head against hers. 'I find I'm rather tired all of a sudden, and you're much comfier than what I've been used to.'

This wasn't a lie; for the past year and a half, Jaime had been sleeping against poles, rocks, tree trunks, or the ground. None of them had been very fun.

Brienne was baffled, and it was only when Jaime tried to find an ideal place to rest his head against her shoulder that she realised he was being serious. 'Get off me,' she snapped irritably, shrugging him off her.

Jaime couldn't help laughing at her disgust.

Brienne looked down at her lap as he continued to chuckle away. She didn't like it when Jaime teased her. However, although she would never admit it aloud, she did appreciate the warmth of his back against hers…although it was hardly a comfort to know that the Kingslayer was the only man here she knew would never want or attempt to defile her.

Jaime's laughter seemed to attract the attention of some of the soldiers behind them; two of them came trotting up to them on their horses, grinning wickedly at their hostages.

'How are the lovers doing?' one of the soldiers asked.

Jaime wasn't sure whether he was more insulted or just plain exhausted by their remark; they'd called them 'lovers' plenty of times already since capturing them. 'Don't make me laugh, who'd be mad enough to want to be with this thing?' he said, trying to deter them; Brienne blinked rapidly, trying not to be too hurt by his comment.

The second soldier laughed. 'I know quite a few who would, actually,' he said, leering nastily at Brienne.

The two men then rode on, jeering away, and Brienne felt her chin quiver slightly as she watched the soldiers ride ahead. She realised then that she was afraid.

'Ignore them,' Jaime murmured in her ear. 'Just ignore them.'

'It'll be harder for me to ignore them tonight,' Brienne muttered back.

Jaime's lips parted but he couldn't think of anything to say to reassure her. They were both powerless to stop whatever ghastly things these men had in store for her. It stunned him deeply to realise just how concerned he was about what they were going to do. Brienne was nothing to him after all – he'd even attempted to fatally wound her merely a few hours ago. But still, somehow…he cared. He could even reluctantly acknowledge to himself that it was quite nice to have her so close to him. He had been craving the comfort of non-violent physical human contact for so long inside that horrendous pen, and now he had it, whether Brienne liked it or not.

But for these idiotic men to assume they were actual lovers? The thought repulsed Jaime. As if they could ever believe that he would want to lie with the likes of her.

~ Present Day ~

When Jaime woke the next morning, his eyes were blinded by the sunlight streaming in through the frosted-over windows. It looked to be a glorious day outside. His blurry gaze then turned to the sleeping woman beside him, her naked body pressed up against his as her head rested against his arm.

Is this a dream?

It took Jaime a few moments to remember the events of last night, and when he did he felt a barely audible chuckle of disbelief and amazement escape his mouth as he gazed at Brienne.

His head ached from the after-effects of the wine and his body still pained him from the many bruises and scars he had obtained during the battle, but the memory of last night was vivid and all he could focus on right now, the only thing that remained clear in his hazy mind. He had come to her bedchamber at night. They had kissed. They had made love. They had broken the rules of traditional society and crossed the boundaries of their relationship. And there was no turning back. The truth was, Jaime wasn't even sure if he wanted to. He knew he still ought to feel regret, as he had done for one troubling moment last night once Brienne had fallen asleep beside him, but now all he could feel was relief and warmth. He felt like he was glowing, and that in that very moment, Brienne was the only source of happiness in his life.

He had never felt this joyful after laying with Cersei. Never. All his life, he'd thought his feelings for Cersei had been true love, but now he knew he had been wrong. So very wrong. He'd known nothing until Brienne. Nothing until last night. Nothing until this very moment here, watching her sleep naked beside him with the sunlight streaming in through the frosty windows.

Noticing that the fire in the hearth had dwindled considerably since he had finally succumbed to sleep a few hours ago, Jaime reluctantly got out of Brienne's bed to pile some more wood onto the fire. He quickly came back, covering both him and Brienne up firmly with the heavy fur covers; Brienne sighed peacefully in her sleep as he tucked her in and reached out to stroke her hair.

By the time Brienne had awoken, Jaime had drifted off back into a doze. It felt strange for her to open her eyes with a smile on her face, but she couldn't help it; the sight of Jaime's face merely inches from hers on the pillow filled her with a joy and warmth she still couldn't quite comprehend. The memories of last night came rushing through her mind, images that made her blush and quiver and almost feel like laughing gleefully in disbelief. It still hadn't sunk in. Ever since Jaime had set her on her mission to find Sansa and they had parted ways in King's Landing, Brienne had dreamed almost every night of Jaime, imagining what it would be like for him to pine after her and want her just as much as she did him. But for this to be reality? It was almost too good to be true.

She couldn't help watching him as he slept beside her, at the rise and fall of his toned bare chest, at the way the morning sunlight illuminated his handsome face and sharp jawline. His features were lined and scarred from his troubles of the recent years but he had aged well. The grey in his hair and short beard almost made him more attractive to Brienne somehow; it made him softer, more real. His right arm rested on her pillow just beside her head, his gnarled stump red and angry from the uncomfortable tightness and friction of his gold hand, the hand that Cersei had constantly forced him to wear out of repulsion and shame.

Never again.

Brienne bit her lip as her thoughts trailed back in detail over last night…she thought of Jaime's tender smile, his loving awestruck gaze, his firm yet gentle hand, his skilled tongue, his lips that had explored every part of her body…

'You'd love to know what it feels like to be a woman,' he had once said tantalisingly to her.

Well he'd certainly shown her what it felt like to be a woman now.

'What is it?' Jaime then mumbled, his voice practically a growl as his eyes flickered open and he smiled at her.

Brienne blinked rapidly, startled; she hadn't realised he had been awake.

'What, why are you smiling?' Jaime asked, leaning closer towards her on the pillow.

Brienne smirked. '"It's bloody hot in here"?'

'Oh, shut up,' Jaime muttered, turning away from her as they both laughed. 'As far as seduction lines go, I realise it wasn't…the best…'

'Oh I'm sorry, was last night meant to be a seduction?' Brienne said, raising her eyebrows at him.

Jaime turned back to face her in mock outrage as she leaned up on the pillow slightly, chuckling at him. Her eyes and beam were alight with joy. It stunned Jaime so much that it made his face falter.

'What?' Brienne asked.

'It's just strange how I never saw you laugh before, until the other day,' Jaime murmured, and he tentatively reached out to stroke her bare arm.

'I could say the same about you. I suppose we just never had much reason to before,' Brienne said softly.

'No. We didn't.'

Jaime couldn't stop gazing at her. He was overcome with relief; she didn't seem full of regret or distaste or embarrassment. If anything, she seemed more eager to be close to him.

'How's your head?' she asked, giving him a knowing look. 'You had a fair bit of wine last night.'

Jaime rolled his eyes as he propped the pillow up against the wall and sat up. 'My own fault. I was a coward…I thought you'd reject me-'

'Oh so your charming drunken behaviour was for my benefit?' Brienne said incredulously, and Jaime gaped at her.

'Why do you insist on mocking me?' he said, chuckling. 'I thought you and I were past that now.'

Brienne raised her eyebrows. 'I certainly hope not.'

Jaime hesitated. 'Me too,' he admitted grudgingly with a twitch of his lips, as Brienne sat up to mirror his position, pulling the fur covers up with her.

There was a small pause as they both simply sat there under the covers looking at each other, neither of them sure of what to say. They both wore small, knowing smiles.

Brienne then cleared her throat, almost nervously. 'So…you drank yourself into oblivion because you felt bad after what Tyrion said. Was it worth it?' she asked, tilting her head at him.

Jaime stared at her. He didn't understand what she meant. And then it hit him.

'You think I slept with you because I was drunk? Because I pitied you?' Jaime said, almost angrily.

Brienne looked down awkwardly. 'W-well I…I…'

She trailed off as Jaime reached for her hand and intertwined their fingers. Brienne squeezed his hand back, reassured by the sword callouses on both their fingertips, and she glanced up at him from under her lashes to see that he no longer looked insulted…although he did look sad.

'Do you really think I care so little for your honour?' Jaime asked quietly, dismayed.

'No, of course not,' Brienne said earnestly. 'But…it's me. Look at me. I'm not a pretty sight to look at, you've said so yourself.'

Jaime smiled sadly, ashamed by the reminder of his younger self's harsh jibes towards her, and gave her hand another squeeze. 'You're wrong. I was wrong. And…you must know how much I…' He broke off and swallowed; even now, after all they had done last night, he still couldn't find the words.

'How much you what?' Brienne prompted gently, her heart racing.

There was a pause as Jaime simply gazed at her, and he shook his head slowly.

'You have no idea, do you? You have no idea how much I feel for you,' he murmured.

Brienne's bottom lip trembled slightly, and she looked down at their intertwined hands. 'Jaime, please don't say these things because you feel you have to-'

'I'm saying these things because I know them to be true,' Jaime interrupted firmly. 'As unlikely as it may have seemed when we first met.'

Brienne glared at him for a moment, and then they both chuckled. He rested his forehead against hers as they laughed, relishing in the warmth of her touch and her closeness. He wished they could just stay here like this, just him and Brienne, forever, with no complications and no outside world to bother them. A simpler life. A happier life.

'That night we first met, you said you'd never been with anyone but Cersei,' Brienne said tentatively, as she leaned away from him. 'You were…loyal to her.'

Jaime nodded. 'I was. But that's over now. Don't get me wrong…she's my sister, and despite everything she's done, despite the way she's treated me and countless others, I…I will always love her, she is my family.'

'I know that,' Brienne said in a small voice. 'I understand.'

'But you, Brienne, I…' Jaime took a deep breath as he gripped her hand tightly. 'You were the reason I came all the way here to Winterfell. You were what kept me going in my darkest days at King's Landing after you left, through my grief for Myrcella and Tommen, even though you weren't there. When I saw you at Riverrun, I…I wanted to leave with you and Podrick.'

Brienne felt her eyes begin to well up with tears as she gazed at him and realised his words to be sincere. Her chin quivered as she smiled at him, just like the way she'd smiled at him when he'd told her to rise as a knight, but then her eyes widened.

'Pod,' she said, alarmed. 'What if he finds out about this?'

'We can be discreet. Are you really that ashamed for me to be found in your bed?' Jaime asked playfully.

'Ashamed?'

Brienne laughed. Did he really not know how beautiful he looked? He was like a god.

'Well I wouldn't blame you if you were,' Jaime said, and he sighed. 'Your first time shouldn't have been with someone as wretched as me.'

'But I wanted it to be you,' Brienne said encouragingly. 'And that's all that really matters, isn't it?'

He looked away from her. 'How I wish it were,' he muttered.

'Jaime,' Brienne murmured, forcing him to look back at her. 'Don't talk like that. Please.'

He was scared that he wasn't enough. He was scared to believe that someone like her could possibly want someone like him. But he realised as he gazed into her eyes that he had forgotten something crucial – Brienne saw him. She saw him and knew him truly, and loved him for the man he was. And that was all that he had wanted for longer than he, she or anyone could possibly know.

'All right,' Jaime said with a smile. 'I'll do my best.'

Brienne smiled back. 'So…what do we do now?' she asked warily.

'Well, I don't know about you, but I could do with a drink. Water, I mean,' he clarified hastily. 'So we could get some food and drink from the hall…then…take it from there?'

'I actually meant-'

'I know what you meant,' Jaime reassured her, and he smiled. 'We could come back here afterwards.'

Brienne's heart skipped a beat as she took in the playful glint in his eyes. The thought of repeating last night was more thrilling than she could say.

'Aren't you worried people will talk if you're seen going into my chambers rather than yours?' she asked.

'Let them talk,' Jaime said, but then he sighed. 'No, I'm sorry, that's…that's not right. I'm being selfish again.'

'How are you the one being selfish?' Brienne said incredulously, frowning. 'You're the one they'll mock and ridicule if they find out about us. Besides, you don't want to be stuck with me…'

'But I do. That's the point,' Jaime said, meeting her gaze. 'But it's your reputation we've got to think about.'

'I don't care about that right now.'

A pause fell as the two lovers gazed at each other, lost in each other's eyes and overwhelmed by sheer devotion and excitement and bliss. They still couldn't believe that this had happened.

'So…we come back here later?' Brienne asked hopefully.

Jaime nudged her bare arm with his own. 'Well we have nowhere else to be.'

'W-well I actually need to see Lady Sansa at some point, there's to be a council session later today,' Brienne replied awkwardly.

'Oh of course,' Jaime said, and his face fell. 'The war against my sister.'

Brienne's eyes dropped. 'I'm sorry,' she murmured.

'I know. Thank you,' Jaime said sincerely, and he forced a smile at her. 'Will you come and see me later?'

'If you want me to, of course,' Brienne replied, her cheeks warming slightly.

'Good.'

'Lady Sansa will ask what your plan is, by the way,' she warned him.

'Ah. Yes. Unless she orders my execution,' Jaime said in a casual tone. 'Although that seems more the Targaryen queen's style.'

'Hmm,' Brienne said sternly. 'Well she would have to get through me.'

Jaime raised his eyebrows at her. 'I'd like to see her try.'

They looked at each other for a moment, their lips twitching and eyes burning, and then Brienne leaned in; Jaime's lips met hers and they sank back down the pillows and into the covers. It felt so natural to kiss Jaime; their lips moved in perfect synchrony, their arms perfectly wrapped around each other so that they were pressed closely together. Could this really become the new norm for her? Could she really wake up to his face and his tender kiss every morning? When they'd first met, so very long ago, Brienne had never thought that she would find herself here, in Jaime's arms, and so blissfully in love with him. It was strange to think back to her earlier contempt for him now.

When they broke apart, they were both smiling. It was an expression neither of their facial muscles were used to; they ached almost as much as their bruises and scars acquired during the battle.

'You know, I'm sorry for the way I spoke to you last night,' Jaime murmured softly, stroking her arm.

'You are?' Brienne said, raising her eyebrows. 'I'm not.'

Jaime frowned at her for a moment, confused, and then an irresistible smile fell on his face. 'I didn't mean…in here,' he said, chuckling. 'I meant downstairs in the corridor, earlier. About…you speaking up for me to the northmen.'

'Oh. You don't need to apologise.'

'I do,' Jaime insisted, brushing her hair back. 'You were defending me. And I'm grateful. I over-reacted, that's all. I'm not used to…people seeing me as someone other than the Kingslayer.'

Brienne smiled tenderly at him. 'Well you should get used to it,' she said softly.

Jaime gazed at her with parted lips, utterly in awe. He didn't understand how he had suddenly got so lucky.

'Thank the gods for you,' he said, his gaze rather watery as he tilted her chin and brought her lips back to his.

Afterwards, they were reluctantly forced to agree that they should soon leave the comfort of Brienne's bedchamber and make an appearance outside. They dressed quickly – Brienne found new clothes for herself and then helped Jaime with his breeches, but turned away with a frown when Jaime insisted on reattaching his golden hand.

'Everyone but you is horrified by the sight of this,' Jaime explained, indicating his stump before covering it with the hand.

They both agreed that Jaime should leave the bedchamber before Brienne so that they wouldn't be seen entering the great hall for food together – anything to avoid suspicion for as long as they could get away with.

'There doesn't seem to be anyone out there at the minute,' Jaime said, his ear pressed against the closed door. 'I'll check it's clear and then leave.'

'I'll follow a few minutes later.'

'Good. And…may we have a proper talk about…this…later?' Jaime asked, looking hopefully at Brienne.

Brienne's heart skipped a beat. ''This' being…?'

Jaime smiled. 'Us.'

'Yes,' Brienne replied, her stomach fluttering at the way he said 'us'.

Jaime nodded, smiling gratefully, and gave her hand a squeeze before turning to open the door. Brienne's chin quivered slightly as she watched him; she wasn't an idiot…she knew this was their last hurrah and that he would no doubt want to use this 'talk' later to bid her farewell. She knew he was going to leave – after all, how could he not? Winterfell wasn't his home and his obligations lay elsewhere, with his sister.

But what would it hurt for Brienne to deny that fact to herself a little longer?

'Wait,' she said, before he could open the door.

Jaime stopped and turned around just in time for Brienne to close the distance between them in a single step and place a brief kiss on his lips. Jaime kissed her back softly, his hand rising to her cheek, and when they leaned apart he smiled lovingly at her.

'I'll see you soon,' he murmured, and with that he opened the door and left the bedchamber, shutting the door quickly behind him and leaving Brienne stood there with her lips and body tingling with delirious happiness and excitement.

As much as his tiredness and headache threatened to consume him, Jaime couldn't help grinning to himself as he hurried away along the corridor and down the stone steps. He'd been wrong to be kept awake by his fears in the early hours of this morning; the influence of wine (or lack of, in this morning's case) seemed to make no difference to Brienne's desires and feelings. She regretted nothing. She had smiled more this morning than he had ever seen before. So had he, in fact.

When Jaime entered the hall, he found the impressive room to be mostly empty aside from the other late-morning risers helping themselves to breakfast, Tyrion being among them. Servants had already cleaned up most of the mess from the drunken festivities last night. Jaime crossed the hall towards the top table where Tyrion was eating and conversing with Ser Davos and Lady Sansa in low, worried voices; Tyrion gestured the empty seat beside him and took a brief look at his brother as he joined them. Jaime's hair was tousled, the tunic he wore under his jerkin was slightly larger and a blue-grey colour instead of the one he had worn last night, his eyes were tired but alight and sparkling, and he seemed unable to stop smiling. The two brothers gave each other a knowing glance but said nothing, conscious of the others sat around them; Tyrion's lips twitched and he clapped Jaime on the back.

Finally, Tyrion thought triumphantly.

Jaime then looked up as he saw Brienne herself enter the great hall with Pod at her side, and the two friends found a table together at the far end of the hall. Brienne hesitantly looked over and met Jaime's gaze from across the hall, and they both smiled. And Jaime knew then – from the colouring of her cheeks and nervous tremble of her smiling lips, from the way his heart pounded with longing and joy and contentment, perhaps even from the moment of their first embrace last night – that his dream of a happy life, of a wife and children he loved, might finally come true.