"The queen wants to help with the wedding," Brienne told Jaime as they ate dinner in their chamber that evening. Jaime raised his eyebrows. "Lady Sansa told me that her brother wants them to be friends and I suppose that it's a good opportunity for them to get to know each other without politics."
Jaime groaned. He remembered the pomp of Cersei's wedding to Robert and even Rhaegar's to Elia. He had sworn that he would never have a wedding like that - then again, he'd sworn never to wed, and look how that turned out. "What is our wedding turning into?"
Brienne's lips twitched, reminding Jaime that he wasn't the only one of the pair to not want a big fuss. He knew Brienne and she would want it to be simple, lowkey, not disturbing anyone. Jaime had the sudden urge to invite the whole of the Seven Kingdoms so that they could look at them and be jealous, look at him and wonder what the hell he had done to get this woman. "I imagine it will turn into a competition between Lady Sansa and Queen Daenerys. I just hope Lady Sansa remembers it is my wedding and not hers. I'd get married like this for all I care," Brienne said, gesturing to her untucked, open laced shirt, bare feet and breeches. Jaime smiled, imagining her walking towards him like that. He wouldn't mind. She'd be coming to him as Brienne and not as Sansa Stark's doll. "Did you get everything sorted today?"
Jaime grimached, remembering his conversation with Tyrion. "I argued with Tyrion," he told her, glancing away. She furrowed her brow and reached across the table for his hand. Jaime snorted. She gave him a wounded look and flinched back. "Sorry," he said unapologetically, smiling at her scowl, "isn't it odd? Just a few months ago we were still insulting each other every time we spoke, snarking at each other, and now we're a regular couple." Brienne scowled at him and Jaime grinned. "Not that I mind it. The only reason I ever insulted you was to hide the fact I wanted to fuck you. And to watch your hackles raise. It truly was a lot of fun."
Brienne breathed out a laugh and Jaime smiled at the sound of it, rasping and ugly and so Brienne. "Perhaps we've gone soft."
Jaime barked out a laugh. He wondered if she had intended her double-entendre. He doubted it very much. "I'll never go soft for you."
She threw a bread roll at him and Jaime snickered, loving the way that he could still make her blush. She'd not blushed much at the beginning of their relationship as it were, and then she had blushed a lot, from about the bear pit. He was glad to see that even sleeping with her hadn't diminished. He supposed over the years he would have to become more creative so that he could see her delightful blushes. He relished the challenge. "What happened with Tyrion?" she asked, her neck still flushed. Jaime groaned.
"You are tenacious, wench." Jaime reached for her hand this time and brought it to his mouth in a kiss.
"I am tenacious," she said, yanking her hand back. "Jaime, what happened?"
Jaime gave her a look but saw that she wasn't going to give up. "He was being a cynical dick."
"About me, I suppose?"
Jaime glanced at Brienne and found her uptight again, averting her eyes, looking down. Her jaw was clenched. Jaime wanted to punch Tyrion even more than he had earlier. "Yes," Jaime admitted. "But he was wrong. He thinks I'm only marrying you to make Cersei jealous. He thinks I'm being an idiot."
Her lips twitched and she still wouldn't meet his eye. "You probably are."
Jaime nodded although she wasn't watching. "Definitely an idiot. Only an idiot would marry a woman as infuriatingly difficult as you." Her head snapped up and Jaime didn't know what he saw behind her sapphire eyes but he rubbed his thumb across the back of her hand. "Tyrion was using the experience he has with me: of me being so obsessed with Cersei that I couldn't do anything but blindly obey her. But Tyrion doesn't know the me that jumped into a bear pit or screamed sapphires or even the one who killed Aerys. You know that me and I know him too. Tyrion can't see past my past."
Brienne's lips morphed into a sad smile. "You'll show him," she said confidently. Always so confident of his honour, of his goodness. Jaime reached for her hand again, stroking the calloused palm and then bringing it to his mouth to kiss it.
"I love you," he said honestly. She smiled, unsymmetrical and big-toothed and beautiful. And happy.
"I love you."
XXX
It was the next day when, after having had her measurements forcefully taken by Sansa for her wedding dress, Tyrion confronted Brienne. She wasn't sure if it was supposed to be a confrontation but it certainly felt like it. He led her into his chambers and Brienne recognised them as the rooms where she and Jaime had spent their first night together in Winterfell. She blushed and Tyrion caught it.
"Did you realise this was my room?" he asked wryly. Brienne shook her head and Tyrion barked out a laugh, quite similar to Jaime's when he forced one, pointing to the window seat. "I'll forgive you, I suppose." Brienne took a seat opposite Tyrion, her eyes drawn by the squires training outside the window in the yard. Her whole body was clenched and her hands sat awkwardly on her knees. She moved them to cross under her breasts and then laced them together on her lap. "I wanted to speak to you because you are marrying my brother," Tyrion said simply after a few moments.
"Yes," Brienne replied, although she was unsure whether he really required a response.
"I wanted to- You are going to be my goodsister. My brother has made a lot of stupid, cruel decisions in his life. From what I'm told, you are a completely honourable woman whose reputation has the one fatal flaw of being the Kingslayer's Whore, and, yet, you are going to marry my brother and worsen it. Why?"
"I love him," Brienne said, scowling. Jaime had warned her that Tyrion would likely speak with her, that he enjoyed making other people's business his own. She was not ashamed of the way she felt about him but she did not feel the need to tell the whole world. Tyrion nodded, ignoring her discomfort and staying in silence. "I know you think that he's making a mistake"
Tyrion cut her off, "I have known my brother for a lot longer than you, my lady." Brienne flinched at the term of address. "I do not believe that, over the course of our entire lives, he has made a decision that was not about Cersei."
Brienne furrowed her brow and looked out of the window again, spotting multiple Lannister soldiers there. "He stole her soldiers and rode north to get away from her."
Tyrion hesitated and Brienne wondered if she had got through to him. She really did not know Jaime's brother well enough to be able to judge his thoughts. "I believe that we got through to him when we showed him the-"
"No," Brienne interrupted, ire rising inside her. Was it any wonder that no one would believe in Jaime's goodness even if his brother could not see it? "I got through to him. I made him leave her. You might think I am being naive, and maybe I am, but I believe in Jaime. I believe that he has become his own person. You do not know the Jaime that I know. I assure you that when he jumped into a bear pit to save my life with only one hand and not a weapon in sight, he was not thinking of Cersei. He did not think of Cersei when he sent me away with the sword your father had made for him in order to find Sansa Stark and return her to her brother, her brother and not to Cersei herself." Brienne was panting lightly with the effort of the argument. She had no desire to cause a rupture between brothers but she also had no wish to listen to Tyrion mar Jaime's reputation and honour.
Tyrion was silent for a few moments, Brienne staring down at him and not out of the window. "You're right," he eventually said. Brienne felt a satisfaction rise in her throat. "I don't know if this new Jaime that you profess to know. Those actions do not sound like the selfish brother I love. My- my hesitation, my lady, is that I have often hoped that my brother would snap out of his daze of obsession with my sister and protect me against our father and sister and he never has. I have over thirty years of experience of a brother who neither wanted to nor tried to work against Cersei."
Brienne nodded. "I understand that. He's done some abhorrent things."
"Cersei will want you dead for this," Tyrion said without missing a beat. Brienne snorted. "I am being entirely serious, my lady. You may believe yourself capable of fending off a sellsword and perhaps you are, but she will send her reformulated Mountain or a small army when she realises that her beloved toy belongs to someone else now."
"Jaime does not belong to me," Brienne said coldly.
"His recent actions do, my lady. I don't know what you did to him or how you enchanted him so, but Jaime-"
"Jaime is an honourable man. I did nothing but remind him of who he was, who he could be again. You do not give him enough credit."
Tyrion sighed. "I understand you are in love with my brother and I understand why. I love him dearly, but I believe you give him too much credit. He may have made some correct decisions in the past few years, according to you, but that doesn't cancel out those abhorrent things you referred to. At this very castle, he pushed a child from a window-"
"I know," Brienne cut off. "I know what he has done and I don't care." Tyrion's lips were still parted, his finger still pointed out at her. "I love Jaime for who he is. I don't just love this Jaime. I love the Jaime who I led south, not in ignorance of his flaws but including them. He can be an idiot. He is an idiot most of the time." Tyrion chuckled. Brienne did not. "But I love him. You say you love him dearly but you do not forgive his wrongs."
"There have been many wrongs."
"There have been many rights too."
Both participants in the argument were silent. Brienne's eyes studied a speck of dust in the corner of one of the window panes. "Cersei will want me dead whether I marry your brother or not," Brienne said, wanting to end the conversation. "She likely already does. I don't care if she wants me dead. I only want to protect and love Jaime. I want to marry him, for him. Not for his honour or his looks or for his money. I want to marry Jaime because I love him."
Tyrion nodded his head once, after a few instants staring at her. "Well, then, I suppose I have no choice but to welcome you to the family." Brienne's lips twitched. To the Lannister family. "I wish I could say that my father would not approve of you but I rather fear he would. All he ever wanted was Jaime to leave the kingsguard and marry someone to give our family children."
"Your father would have approved of Jaime marrying a woman who spends her life in breeches, sword in hand?" Brienne asked, a wry smile upon her lips. Tyrion nodded, sipping from his goblet of wine.
"My father would have approved of anyone who helped Jaime to break free of his vows and create an heir for Casterly Rock." Tyrion paused, drinking more. A smile flirted with his lips. "I suppose you've already started on that."
Brienne flushed but did not deny him. She would not lie to her goodbrother. "Well, sister," Tyrion said, standing, "I am sure I am going to much prefer having you as my sister to the other bitch." Brienne smiled without showing her teeth. That had not been a conversation she enjoyed.
XXX
Sansa found Brienne in her office, staring at the papers in front of her. "Lady Commander," Sansa greeted her. Brienne looked up and gave her half a smile. "I need you to come to a meeting with me." Brienne nodded and stood immediately, adjusting her sword at her hip as she stood. When she drew close, Sansa put her hand on her arm. "Are you alright? You've only been betrothed for three days. You should still be smiling!"
Brienne gave her another half of a smile. "I spoke with my good brother-to-be."
"Tyrion?" Sansa said incredulously - and redundantly. She cut Brienne off before she could confirm it. "I mean, yes, obviously Tyrion. I assume he didn't have anything good to say for himself."
Brienne sighed. "No- he, well-" Sansa looked at her and Brienne began to speak. By the end, Sansa was alternating between clenching her teeth together and sucking the sides of her mouth between them to regulate her anger. "I think we were fine by the end."
"You should have been fine at the beginning," Sansa said tersely. "He didn't have the right to-"
Brienne gave her a look. "He had every right."
"No," Sansa cut off. "He didn't."
Sansa felt her irritation throughout the whole meeting, eyeing Tyrion with distaste. Brienne protected Sansa physically so the least Sansa could do was protect her emotionally. And she knew that Brienne would do the same for her if the situations were reversed.
When, finally, the dragon queen and Jon declared the meeting over, they all stood, the screech of the chairs against the floor making Tyrion wince. "Lord Hand, I would have words with you," Sansa said, controlling her voice. She felt Brienne's hand on her arm and Jon's gaze on her. She ignored both. Tyrion looked at her, eyebrows raised.
"My lady," Brienne said and Sansa cut her off.
"Don't worry, Brienne. This won't take long."
Sansa still did not take her eyes from Tyrion. The others filed out of the room, Jon looking at her strangely and Brienne giving her one final worried look before departing. "How can I help you, Lady Stark?" Tyrion said jovially. Sansa glanced at the door to her solar, still open. She strode over to it and clicked it shut. "Well, this is ominous. Have I done something to offend you, my lady?"
Sansa did not like the amusement in his tone. She placed her hands on the back of a chair at the table, looking away from him. "You had no right to speak to Brienne in the manner you did. You might have grown bitter but-"
"Excuse me?" His tone was anything but amused now. Sansa pursed her lips. He strode around to the other side of the table, in Sansa's eyesight. "If you're going to insult me, you could at least look at me, Sansa." Well, there went the formality.
Sansa looked at him unflinchingly. "You upset Brienne. She is getting married in a four days. She does not need you-"
"You can be worried about your friend but I cannot be worried for my brother?" Tyrion interrupted her. Sansa glanced away and then at him again, sucking air in between her teeth.
"It is not worrying about your brother if you allude to his future wife that he is still in love with his sister!" Sansa shouted, uncaring of who heard them. "You had no right. You may have become embittered with life-"
Tyrion scoffed and Sansa looked at him sharply. "I have become embittered, Lady Stark? You are certainly one to talk." Sansa felt her nostrils flare as she inhaled deeply, her lips twisting into a venomous scowl. "Although, let's be honest, you were never exactly sweet."
"Murdering my family and forcing my into a marriage did not exactly induce my sweetness, my Lord Hand," Sansa spat. "This isn't about our marriage. This is about you wanting your brother to be just as bitter and unhappy as you are. I won't let you hurt Brienne. She is innocent in all of this."
"Have you given any thought to the fact that I was trying to protect her?" Tyrion said. Sansa's face didn't move, just as she had trained it. "I know my brother and he will run back to Cersei, I assure you. And, when he does, Brienne will be a heartbroken widow to her husband's proclivities and have to live with the shame of it."
Sansa shook her head. "Your brother has changed."
"So everyone keeps telling me."
"I trust Brienne's judgment. She wants to risk everything for a bit of love and happiness. You being unhappy doesn't mean-"
"Where do you get off calling me unhappy, Sansa?" he snapped. Sansa arched an eyebrow at him. "No, I mean it. I'm Daenerys' hand. It's what I've wanted all of my life-"
Sansa scoffed. "What you've wanted all your life is love. Don't kid yourself into thinking that's what you've got. You've got a bit of power but you're going to spend the rest of your life pulling Daenerys' reins when she steps too far towards what her father was." Sansa watched as Tyrion's hackles raised, his eyes bulging and his lips stretching as his jaw clenched.
"I did want love, once, but, after I lost two wives, I figured that it was a bit much to ask the Gods for."
Sansa shook her head. "Nobody gives up wanting to be loved." Especially after only two marriages. Sansa would know something about that.
"Speaking from experience?" Tyrion spat at her. Was she so easy to read? Had she learned nothing? Sansa clenched her jaw and crossed her arms, leaning back so that her entire posture showed Tyrion just how pissed off she was. Let him read that. "Is that what this is about? You want to believe in love so much that you're encouraging Brienne to go into a marriage that will ultimately fail. I suppose then you'll have her back so that she can love and adore you. That's what you want isn't it, Sansa? Everyone to love and adore you."
"I suppose that would make us a twin set," Sansa spat. Tyrion smirked and Sansa hated him for his cynical humour, that he could smile in the midst of an argument. "You said that once, didn't you? The disgraced daughter and the demon monkey. Perfect for each other." Sansa looked away.
"And now equal in our unhappiness."
Sansa's eyes snapped back to him and he raised his hand as though he had a goblet in hand to make a toast. Anger still burned in her veins at the way he had spoken to Brienne and now the way he had spoken to her. Even still, she dropped to her knees in front of him. His eyes flashed and he was about to open his mouth to speak again when she kissed him.
XXX
"Do you know what the next move is, milord?" Ser Michel Prester asked Jaime when he called together his commanding officers that afternoon. Jaime sighed, rubbing his forehead with his hand.
"I do not," Jaime said. "For the moment, Queen Daenerys does not trust that we are not going to return to Cersei. I know that it is a difficult position to be in but I'm going to prove our worth to the dragon queen and we will come out on the right side of this war, with the rightful queen on the Iron Throne."
There were cheers around the room. Jaime surveyed them and wondered when Cersei had turned her own army against her. "I've sent a raven to Highgarden, where Ser Addam Marbrand commands. Hopefully we will have ten thousand troops here within a few months."
There were cheers again and then some of the commanding officers had some suggestions that Jaime accepted quickly. "Are we done?" he asked what felt like an hour later. He had always hated these meetings of commanders trying to be more than they were, trying to outdo each other.
"Who do you want to replace you for your time off after the wedding?" Ser Michel Prester asked, a sly smile adorning his lips. Jaime snorted and a smile grew on his lips. He wondered if Brienne had organised anything or if she was going to go straight back to work guarding Sansa the next day, hopefully walking bowlegged. Jaime suppressed his smirk.
"I will talk with my betrothed and decide how much time we are having off after the wedding."
"Whipped," Bronn coughed. Jaime gave him a sidewards glance that he hoped came off as a glare.
"Dismissed."
Jaime leaned against the chair next to him as the soldiers filed out of the tent. "You're a dick," he said to Bronn when they had dispersed. Bronn snickered.
"You reckon she'll have any time off?"
Jaime snorted. "No. She'll see it as a waste of time."
Bronn shot him a look as Jaime restrapped his sword to his waist, struggling somewhat with the buckle. The two men left Jaime's unused tent and headed back into the grounds of Winterfell. "A waste of time, fucking? Who is she?" Jaime gave him a wry look.
"She'll want to be protecting Sansa. It's what she does."
"You mustn't be fucking her well enough," Bronn declared. Jaime glared at him, his cheeks warming as the guards at the gate of Winterfell stared at them both. Jaime hushed Bronn but he ignored it, as usual. "I'm just saying, if she doesn't want to have a week off for you to fuck her into the next one, she mustn't think a lot of you."
Jaime scowled. He knew that what Bronn was saying wasn't true but it did hit home slightly. "I've not spoken to her yet. Let's not speak too soon." Bronn rolled his eyes, looking away to where young squires were sparring in the yard.
"Oh, well, if it isn't my favourite Lannister brother." Bronn's voice alerted Jaime to Tyrion tottering over to them. Jaime pursed his lips and turned to Tyrion, furrowing his brows when he saw the panic on his face.
"I need to talk to you," Tyrion said urgently.
Bronn wasn't invited but it didn't stop him joining them as the three of them sat down at the small table in Tyrion's chambers. Tyrion poured them each a goblet of wine, not bothering to savour it before drinking the lot of his. Jaime glanced at Bronn who rolled his eyes as they sat down, leaving Tyrion a chair opposite them. "Before you have another one, you prick, what did you want us for?" the sellsword said.
Tyrion winced, glancing away. "Well, to be fair, I didn't want you at all."
"I'll just go and kill myself then shall I?" Bronn said with a grin, looking at Jaime. Jaime snorted. "Come on, you dramatic fucker."
Tyrion sighed, pouring another drink and sitting down. Jaime furrowed his brow at his brother. This behaviour - the drinking - was nothing new but dragging them to his chambers to do so was. Jaime hoped that whatever Tyrion had to say sated his curiosity.
"I fucked Sansa."
Well, that would do it.
"What?" Jaime said, lurching forward so that his chest hit the table. Bronn chuckled lowly.
"I knew it," he said triumphantly, pointing at Tyrion. "I knew you wanted to fuck her! I told you so. Look at me, getting things right all over the fucking place. Knew you wanted to fuck the big one-" Jaime scowled "- and now I'm right about him wanting to fuck his lovely wife. It's no wonder you pay me so well."
"I'll pay you with a sword up the arse in a minute," Jaime grumbled, not taking his eyes from his brother who was in the process of pouring his third drink. Bronn snorted.
"How are you gonna do that, Lannister? You're about as much use as a fat pig with a sword."
Jaime would have resented that comment and reminded Bronn about storming through a battlefield full of wights to reach Brienne and living to tell the tale, but he was worried about Tyrion. "I'll get Brienne to do it," he said quickly, ignoring Bronn's howl of amusement. "What the hell, Tyrion? When did you fuck Sansa Stark?"
"About an hour ago," Tyrion said after another gulp of wine. "On the table in the meeting room." Jaime's jaw dropped. He ignored Bronn's snickers beside him. On the table in the meeting room. His brother had fucked Sansa fucking Stark on the table in the meeting room in the middle of the afternoon. "She started it."
That didn't surprise Jaime as much as it might have a few years ago. Sansa Stark was special to Tyrion and he had no desire to hurt her, Jaime knew that much. That he'd harboured feelings for her, he had not known. "You- I didn't know you-"
"I don't!" Tyrion cried, taking another gulp of wine. "This is the thing, Jaime, I've thought about her since she left King's Landing, of course I have," he rambled, drinking between words, "but I never thought that I feel anything for her. It was good to see her, yes. I was glad that she was safe, that she was smiling. She never smiled when she was my wife-"
"Slow down," Jaime interrupted. "You're thinking too much."
"You don't think enough."
Jaime rolled his eyes at that. "Tyrion, what are you going to do?" Tyrion looked at him, his mouth open and eyes staring at the wine.
"I don't fucking know," he said, taking another drink.
