They had survived.
Screaming and groaning and panting, they had survived. Every wight and white walker had died - again. They had been destroyed. And they were the victors. They had survived.
Jaime dropped his sword. In fact, he barely dropped it. It clattered out of his hand by no awareness of his own. His muscles simply protested being used anymore. He found himself on the ground, clattering like his sword, body numb to the pain and the cold, his knees tucked under his chin. He swiped his finger slowly over a wound on his neck, pressing the bloody pad against another and staring as the blood lingered between the two. A wound that would have been fatal had Brienne not saved him. Saved him as she had so many times before.
Eyes drooping, Jaime looked up at her. It was still dark, although it seemed as though the night should have been long over. How long had they been fighting?
Even in the dark, though, her sapphire eyes glimmered. Wordlessly, Jaime raised his hand to her and she took it. He squeezed, enjoying the feel of her callouses against his. They had both worked so hard to get where they were. He felt her try to pull him up and he shook his head, straining his own muscles to suggest she sit by his side instead.
Although her face didn't move, he knew she was only too happy to comply. She never did anything she didn't comply with. When she reached the floor, next to him, their armour covered thighs clanging against each other, he leaned his head against her shoulder.
"You came," she rasped. Jaime smiled weakly and turned his face so that he could look her in the eyes.
"Did you ever doubt I would?" he asked and she smiled, showing only the bottoms of her top row of teeth.
"Truthfully, the encroaching masses of wights gave me pause," she replied, leaning her head against his. Jaime chuckled, enjoying her weight against him, and they were silent for a few moments. "You came." It was a whisper.
"I always will," he returned against her shoulder. "I promise."
XXX
"Well, you little fucker, looks like we survived."
Tyrion blinked and then blinked again, wondering if this was death. He had hoped he wouldn't be stuck in the crypts of Winterfell for eternity. "Bronn? What the bleeding hell are you doing here?"
Bronn laughed, showing Tyrion his cuts and bruises. "I came to fight, didn't I? Did you really think I'd leave you alone?"
The others left in the crypts were staring at them. There weren't many, only those who hadn't rushed out to find a loved one, Sansa included.
"You want us to believe you came of your own volition?" Sansa asked, disbelief colouring her tone. Bronn snorted, playing with his sword. Tyrion noted that it was valyrian steel and wondered whether the sellsword had killed a man to claim it or had just plucked it out of a dead man's hand.
"No, of course I didn't. I'd have much rather been in my bed in the Red Keep, if I'm honest. Your fucking brother, however," Bronn said, making Tyrion's eyebrows threaten to fly off his face.
"My brother? Jaime? He's here?"
Bronn nodded. Tyrion turned to Sansa to see if she was as shocked as he. If she was, her face wasn't showing it. Her face didn't show much nowadays. It wasn't much of a change from their short-lived marriage, truth be told.
"Where is he?" Tyrion demanded, dropping his empty goblet and standing up. Sansa stood with him. Bronn shrugged. "I have to find him."
"He jumped off his horse mid battle and ran into the midst," Bronn told them. "Fucker might be dead for all I know."
Tyrion shook his head. "Not Jaime Lannister." Reaching for Sansa's hand, Tyrion led them out of the crypt, Bronn trailing behind them. She squeezed his hand but Tyrion didn't want to look up and find pity in her eyes. Jaime wasn't dead.
"Why would he abandon his horse?" Tyrion asked Bronn. Without waiting for an answer, he approached a soldier in Lannister colours to ask for Jaime's location.
"Saw him go in there about ten minutes ago," the soldier said without removing his head from the wall it was leaning on. Tyrion thanked him and changed their direction, dragging Sansa along with him.
"Told you he wasn't dead," Tyrion said, his heart lifting. Bronn snorted.
They followed the path that the soldier had gestured to and then asked a couple who were wrapped up in each other. They answered Sansa's questions nervously, apologising for their behaviour in the corridors. Tyrion marvelled at the woman who inspired so much respect.
"This is my room," Tyrion said incredulously as they arrived at the room that the couple had indicated.
"Perhaps he wanted to see you and asked around," Sansa said. Letting go of Sansa's hand, Tyrion opened his door and did indeed find his brother there.
Wrapped up in the arms of Brienne of Tarth, sleeping soundly. That had not been what Tyrion was expecting; he had thought to find his brother waiting to see him. He turned to Sansa who was smiling softly.
"Knew he was fucking her," Bronn grunted.
XXX
Jaime awoke to an elbow in the back. Groaning, he glanced out of the window and saw that the sun was rising. They mustn't have even slept for three hours. Jaime turned behind him to find that Brienne was still sleeping. She flinched in her sleep, her mouth moving silently.
"Hey," Jaime whispered, shaking her arm with his one good hand. "Brienne, you're having a nightmare."
She woke immediately, ever the soldier, and pushed him away without ceremony. Letting out a grunt at being flung onto the other side of the bed, Jaime groused, "what was that for?"
Coming to, Jaime watched as the confusion in her eyes turned to recollection. "Sorry," she whispered.
"What were you dreaming about?" he asked in similar tones. She grimaced and shook her head. "Can I," he started, gesturing to the space between them. She nodded hesitantly and he moved closer, placing his golden hand on her hip. "We should go back to sleep," Jaime suggested.
"How long have we been asleep?" she asked. Jaime loved the sleep in her voice. He'd never seen her or heard her so vulnerable.
"About three hours, I think," he replied, snuggling further into her warmth.
"What are you doing?" she asked, alarm in her voice. Jaime shrugged against her.
"You're warm." He looked up at her and found her looking panicked. Chuckling, he reached up to her face with his good hand and brushed his thumb across her bottom lip.
"I-"
He cut her off with a kiss, soft and gentle against her pillowy lips. When he pulled away, he said, "can I cuddle you now?"
Brienne shook her head but amusement danced behind her eyes rather than panic. "I'm so glad you came," she whispered and Jaime put his leg between hers. Rather than protest this time, she adjusted herself so that she was more comfortable against him. Jaime enjoyed the way she squirmed, wondering slightly what Brienne would do if she woke up with his cock hard against her thigh. He'd had that dream before.
"I'm so glad I'm here," he said and she sighed in what Jaime hoped was a pleased way. "Sleep, Brienne. I'm here."
"You're here," she repeated sleepily as she closed her eyes. With a smile, Jaime closed his own.
XXX
When Brienne awoke properly, the sun was high in the sky. Her body did not feel fully rested but, after ten minutes or so of trying to go back to sleep, she gave up and used all her energy on watching Jaime sleep.
"Hey," he said sleepily, interrupting Brienne's careful study of his face. His eyes were droopy and his voice was marred by sleep. "You're too far away," he told her and Brienne rolled her eyes. Jaime Lannister was snuggling closer into her chest. Maybe she was still dreaming. This was ridiculous.
"Are you going to let me go at any point?" Brienne asked, amused by his clinginess and wary of how long it would last. If it was going to end, it may as well end soon, before it broke her heart. Jaime shook his head against her breasts.
"No, gonna stay here forever," he declared. His stump was resting against Brienne's back and their legs were tangled. Brienne was glad that no one else was there. She knew exactly how it looked.
"Why are we in this room?" she asked, rather than voice her thoughts on their situation. Jaime shrugged.
"We were sleepy," he said, moving his head so that it rested on the pillow rather than her chest. "Why? Whose room is it?"
Brienne shrugged. "I'm not in the habit of visiting other people's chambers."
Jaime smirked up at her and then pressed a quick kiss upon her lips. Brienne blinked when he pulled away. She had a sudden feeling that she had done that before. "Did we- did we kiss last night?" she asked, furrowing her brow. Jaime propped himself up on his elbow and pressed a kiss to the space in between her brows.
"I'm very insulted that you forgot," he teased and then pressed yet another kiss to her lips. Brienne was prepared for this one and kissed him back, enjoying the sensation far more than she ever thought she would, never having fully understood why pressing lips together was seen as pleasurable.
"Piss off," she replied in her usual tone, but smiling as she pulled away. Jaime looked affronted; she knew it was a front. "You mustn't have been very impressive." His eyebrows raised, challenged. Brienne narrowed her eyes and pursed her lips but amusement celebrated in her mind. Hadn't she dreamed of this?
"I assure you, wench, I can be plenty impressive," he told her, waggling his eyebrows and squirming against her. Brienne felt as though he was trying to be as close to her as possible. If he got any closer to her, they would be one person. Brienne's face flamed as she considered what that would mean. He noticed - of course he noticed. "What has the famous Maid of Tarth blushing?"
Brienne scowled and he kissed it away. "You can't just kiss me when you annoy me," she told him, irritated that it truly was that easy to please her. Jaime grinned, kissing her again.
"I want to kiss you whenever I like," he told her. Brienne furrowed her brow and Jaime pressed a kiss like butterfly's wings where her brow creased. She looked into his green eyes and found hope there, rather than amusement.
"Please don't jape with me," she pleaded. She wasn't sure if she could take it, not from him. He shook his head at her. "Jaime-"
He cut her off with a kiss and pulled away. When she opened her mouth again, he kissed it again. "I'm going to kiss you to convince you," he murmured against her lips. "I never want to stop doing this."
It was making Brienne dizzy, all the feelings and all the kissing. She pulled away, moving her whole body away from his, although her eyes didn't leave his. Meaning she didn't miss the hurt that flashed in those green orbs. "What are you doing?" she asked, sitting up. He sighed, pulling his body upright as well. Brienne's brow creased, a wary feeling pulling up from her stomach and settling in her heart. Jaime was studying the sheets, drawing pictures on them with his pointer finger.
"Brienne, when Cersei said that we were sending troops up north, I was so excited because it meant that I was coming to you," he told her. His tone was honest but Brienne didn't trust it. Her feelings were clouding her judgement. And he wasn't looking at her yet. "And I wouldn't just see you for a little bit, like at Riverrun in that tent or at the dragon pit, but I'd see you for as long as I wanted, whenever I wanted." Oh, Brienne wanted to trust him, so much. "And I'd see you for long enough to show you that I could be a good man, a man of honour-"
She interrupted him, "you are a man of-"
He looked at her before cutting her off, his eyes pleasing. "No, don't. Please, let me speak, Brienne," he said, pushing his hair back from his face, the blond locks an endearing mess. "I could have left Cersei earlier, but I wanted to arrive and impress you. I wanted to arrive with an army and save the day and be a hero that you could be proud of, someone you could - you could love."
Brienne's heart stopped. His words would have been enough but the look in his eyes. She wanted to say something, anything, but didn't trust herself to articulate herself well enough, to make him know how she was feeling.
"Cersei told me she wasn't going to send troops and my heart dropped because I was suddenly not going to see you. My plans to spend time with you and to be the hero who was worthy of you were all ruined. So, I waited a few days and snuck away, taking an army with me and collecting another from Riverrun."
Brienne's lips parted. "You-" He had left Cersei. By his own admission, he had left Cersei for her.
"When we arrived, we charged and found as many white walkers as we could. When we had made enough headway that my unarmed soldiers would be able to find weapons among the dead, I blew my horn for them to join. And then I came to find you.
"Gods, Brienne, I was so scared that I was too late. I was so scared that I would find you dead. When I saw you there, commanding and fighting, my breath left my body and all I wanted to do was fight beside you and protect you and have you protect me until it was all over and we either died or lived."
He was silent then and Brienne's mind whirred. She scooted away from him on the bed, putting her head in her hands. What was she supposed to say to that? He had left his sister for her. She had thought she would have to watch him die with Cersei.
"Why?" she asked. He reached his hand across to touch hers.
"I love you," he said simply. Brienne inhaled sharply. That was the best possible answer to her question and yet it made her feel sick inside. "I think I've loved you since Harrenhal."
Brienne remembered him coming back for her, jumping into a bear pit for her. She remembered how she felt, remembered the exact way her heart had surged and leapt and screamed. "Why?" she said again.
He furrowed his brow. "What do you mean?"
"Why do you- why do you think you love me?" she asked and his face fell. She wanted to press his lips back into a smile. He shook his head and shuffled towards her on the bed. Brienne moved away, standing up, her hand against her forehead, and Jaime sighed, copying her actions. Brienne stepped toward the window.
"Brienne, I don't think I love you. I know I love you." She shook her head vehemently and watched his throat bob. "Please, let me hold you," he said when she stepped away yet again as he tried to approach her. Brienne stilled and he came towards her slowly, putting a hand and a stump on her hips. "I love you," he repeated, pressing his forehead against hers. "I love your honour, I love your wit, I love your spirit. I love the fact that you tell me when I'm being a cock and that you're always bloody right. I love how you talk back to me and how you care for me. I love how frustrating you are and how much you make me want to be a good man. Oh, Gods, Brienne, if only I was the man you think I am. I want to be that man for you."
Brienne closed her eyes so that she wouldn't have to see his open, trusting eyes and he brushed his thumb across her bottom lip. "Jaime, I don't - I -" Jaime laughed and Brienne felt her lips twitch. "You are the man I think you are," she told him, placing a hand on his stubbled cheek. He leaned into it. "You are a man of honour. I see it every time I'm with you." Jaime made to interrupt but Brienne shook her head, needing to finish before she lost her nerve. "It's my turn now - don't, don't interrupt me." She inhaled and formed the words she had known to be true for so long but had never thought to say. "I love you."
She didn't really know what to say apart from that. She'd never been able to put these confusing Jaime feelings into words except for to define them as love. Her heart ached. She loved him so much. "I love you," she said again. He smiled at her, a genuine smile, without teasing or smirking.
"I love you," he said, pressing his forehead against hers again. Brienne loved the weight of it there, as though he was pressing his love into her. A yearning below her stomach suggested that him pressing love into her wasn't the worst idea. She laughed aloud, in happiness and amusement at their situation. What had she said once? Who would want to die for a Lannister?
"I love you," she said, letting him start walking them back to the bed. When her calves hit the bed, he repeated it again.
Brienne laughed aloud and he just said it again. She leaned in and pressed their lips together. Kissing him made her weak at the knees. That was why she let him push her back onto the bed, positioning himself in between her thighs. At the look on his face, smirk and hooded eyes, heat pooled in Brienne's stomach.
She tried to sit up and kiss him again but he shook his head. "You're right where I want you," he said, his smirk colouring his voice with teasing. Brienne wanted to say something clever back but she'd never been in this position before. It was all new and scary and so exciting. She crossed her legs under his arse, grinning when his heated gaze fell on her, and, with the muscle in her thighs, forced him to fall forward on top of her.
"Now you're right where I want you," she said and he leaned down to kiss the smile off her face, moving his hand to tangle in her hair. She could feel him hard against her thigh and, in a move that her childhood septa would have called wanton, she angled her hips against him, pleasantly surprised when he groaned into her mouth. He moved his hips against hers and moved his mouth from her lips to her neck. Brienne could never have guessed that her neck was so sensitive but, coupled with him angling his erection directly between her legs, she was moaning her name lewdly. When he pulled back, his eyes were almost fully black and his smug smirk was sitting very happily upon his lips. "Why did you stop- Sansa!" Brienne gasped, unhooking her legs from Jaime.
He looked at her oddly. "I'm Jaime," he teased, pressing his lips back against her neck. She shook her head, pressing her hands against his chest to push him away. "No, Brienne," he whined and Brienne rolled her eyes, forcing him to stand up and then following suit.
"Who knows what time it is and Sansa will need me. Gods, I don't even know if she's alive!" Brienne cried, overcome with a sense of guilt that she had allowed herself to be distracted by Jaime when she should be with Sansa and Arya. "She doesn't know I'm alive!"
Jaime nodded and Brienne was grateful. "Come on, I need to go to my chambers and get changed."
It took her fifteen minutes to change into something she hadn't slept in. By the time they left her chambers, Jaime was grousing that he was going to look a fool in his soiled, battle-weary clothes, his own spares far from Winterfell at the Lannister camp. "Will you stop complaining?" Brienne demanded. "You sound like a green boy."
"Sorry, am I moaning too much?" he asked, his face lighting up with a wicked grin. Brienne glared at him, ignoring the memory of his lips on her neck and his cock, hard and insistent between her thighs.
"Behave yourself," she ordered, hoping she was not flushing as fiercely as she felt she was, as they reached the door to the war council, where they had been informed by some servants that Lady Sansa and Arya were, along with others. Jaime mock saluted her and her lips twitched, although she did not let up on her glare.
The room was well packed, but the queen, who was holding court at the top of the table, saw them immediately. Her face lit up and a smile stretched across her beautiful face. She raised her glass. "To Ser Jaime Lannister," she cried. Brienne noticed that not everybody in the room had glasses, but they all cheered alongside the queen. Fighting a smile of pride, she glanced at Jaime and found him slightly panicked and confused. It was an endearing look on the usually confident man. "We were just discussing how we may all have been dead if it were not for your mounted troops and your archers, Ser Jaime." Brienne watched as Jamie's throat bobbed and he reached up to rub his stubble. "You and your sister have our thanks."
That made Brienne stiffen, because this was all Jaime and none of it Cersei. She wanted the whole room to know that Jaime had come of his own accord, broken away from his bitch of a sister and arrived to save them all without a thought to how it would affect him. Brienne wanted all of them to see what she saw.
One look from Jaime, though, had her sealing her lips. It was his 'secret', as it were, and she would let him explain it to the dragon queen and the Starks when he wished. Preferably soon, before Daenerys accused Jaime of spying for Cersei and banished him from Winterfell.
The room continued to discuss the battle, what went wrong and what went right. Daenerys did mention that Jaime had almost arrived too late but pardoned him for it. Again, Jaime didn't mention that he wouldn't have been there at all if it were up to Cersei, that he had stolen Cersei's troops and called down her wrath.
When they had finished, Daenerys asked Jaime to stay, along with Lady Sansa and Jon. Jaime shot Brienne a look that was reminiscent of a man on the end of a sword. "Stay, Brienne," Sansa said, reaching her hand to her. Brienne took her lady's hand and squeezed it. They stood side by side as Daenerys turned to Jaime. "I'm glad you're alive," Sansa whispered. Brienne's lips twitched.
"I am glad you are too, my lady," she returned. Sansa smiled a small smile. Daenerys and Jon stood at the end of the table, Sansa, Arya and Brienne to the side. Brienne noticed that Arya had taken no notice of Daenerys not asking her to stay.
"I am glad you came, Ser Jaime," Daenerys said. Brienne's throat tightened. The pleased smile and happy tone were gone, replaced by the ruthless queen that they were fighting to crown. Brienne shot a look at Jaime. He did not look worried, though he should have.
"I am glad to be of service to you, your grace," Jaime replied, his tone clipped and sure. Brienne felt her stomach wobble. This was not the time to be sarcastic and Jaime-like.
"And now?" the queen asked, a sculpted eyebrow arched. Jaime furrowed his brow slightly.
"Now, your grace?" he said. Brienne almost felt sick. She didn't want to know what Jaime was going to do now. Couldn't she have a few days of bliss with him, without thinking of the future?
"Your soldiers came to fight the great war and I am grateful, but we are not finished. Your sister still sits the iron throne." Jaime nodded once. "You have three days to take your soldiers and leave," she said coldly. Brienne swallowed harshly. "And I expect we will see you on the battlefield."
Jaime cleared his throat. "You will see me on the battlefield, your grace," he said. Brienne's head snapped to look at him. After all that they had said this morning - "I will be fighting for you." The tension that had suddenly built inside Brienne dissipated. She could have sighed aloud.
"What do you mean?" the queen asked and her tone invited no stupidity or humour.
"Cersei didn't send the armies. I stole them." The queen, and all three Starks, looked at Jaime with incredulity, reminding Brienne that she alone knew the truth of Jaime's kingslaying, of his honour. "She did not intend to come to fight for you, so I made the choice."
"And you expect us to believe that you will fight against her now?" Jon asked. His voice was deep and disbelieving. Brienne felt disbelief blossom in her own chest. Jaime nodded once. "What changed?" Jaime cleared his throat but didn't speak. "At the dragonpit, you were still her animal, doing her bidding. What changed between now and then?"
Brienne felt her face warm as he glanced at her quickly, ignoring the look that Sansa shot her. "I realised that loyalty was not my only option."
"Fuck loyalty," Brienne had said to him at the dragonpit. Fuck loyalty and he had left his sister, left her so completely that he would fight against her in the field.
"I do not trust you, Ser Jaime," Daenerys declared and Brienne didn't really blame her. "You may stay at Winterfell. Your men may stay at Winterfell but, until I trust you, you will not be allowed to come near our meetings - and you may not fight against your sister's armies." Jaime nodded once, stoically. Brienne wondered if that was what he wanted. "You are dismissed."
