"You look nice," Jaime said, watching Brienne watch the room. They'd found themselves a nice seat close enough that Brienne could keep her eye on Sansa while also enjoying the meal together. Sansa had told Brienne that she was perfectly fine with her brother and sister at her sides - and the dragon queen and all her retinue - and that Brienne should enjoy a night with her husband. Jaime had earned himself a scowl from both Sansa and Brienne when he waggled his eyebrows at the former.
"What do you want?" Brienne said, not taking her eyes off Sansa. Jaime narrowed his eyes at her and she turned to him at his silence. "You're never nice to me outside of bed. What do you want?"
Jaime scoffed. "I resent that. I was very nice to you in your office just two days ago." Jaime grinned wickedly as Brienne's neck flushed. "You do look nice though. I like it when you wear blue." Her lips twitched upwards slightly. "I like it better when you wear nothing-"
She hit him in the stomach.
"I have gossip," Jaime said a few moments later. Brienne groaned. "Stop watching Sansa. We both know I'm a better view." Brienne turned her gaze on him and he smirked, scooching closer to her. Everyone at Winterfell knew that they were betrothed, so Jaime didn't see the harm in showing his affection. He lay his hand on her thigh, underneath the table, where no one could see. Her eyes bulged. Jaime rolled his eyes. "Come on, I have gossip."
"I don't like gossip."
Of course she didn't. Jaime shook his head. "You'll like this gossip, I promise. It's about Sansa." He lowered his voice for the last bit. Brienne's head whipped around to Jaime very quickly. "You know, it's going to start hurting my feelings if you only ever want to talk about Sansa. I feel rather second best." Jaime was teasing and Brienne knew it. She rolled her eyes dramatically.
"Anyway, the gossip," Jaime started, nodding at the Lady of Winterfell who was in deep conversation with her sister at the high table. "Your lady Sansa fucked my brother this afternoon." Brienne's jaw dropped. Jaime grinned. "On the table in the meeting room." Brienne's mouth gaped at him. Jaime wanted to kiss her.
"Is she okay?" Brienne asked and Jaime made a face, narrowing his eyes and furrowing his brow. He glanced at Sansa, who was smiling at her sister, and then back at Brienne who was worrying her lip. "I mean, she looks okay. Is she?"
"I think so. Tyrion said she initiated it," Jaime said slowly, watching Brienne looking at Sansa desperately. "Brienne, what is it? Come on, this is great gossip."
"Sansa- I am just surprised," Brienne said, her face softening. "It's good." Jaime raised his eyebrows at her. "I'll speak to her tomorrow."
"You speak with Sansa Stark about sex?" Jaime said, surprised. He had always assumed their relationship, while friendly, was rather professional. He was betrothed to Brienne and sometimes he found their relationship professional. She was a professional sort of woman.
"Yes," Brienne said, a teasing smile at her lips. "Worried?"
Jaime scoffed. "I am fully aware I have nothing to worry about. And, even if I did, you wouldn't have anything to compare it to."
That earned him another slap on the stomach. Chuckling, Jaime kissed her on the cheek. She flamed scarlet and hissed, "Jaime," at him. Her slightly upturned lips suggested she wasn't completely angry, though. On the contrary, Jaime thought she might have been quite pleased.
XXX
"So, I was supposed to ask you earlier," Jaime said, fiddling with the laces on his shirt so obviously that Brienne automatically came over to assist him. She made a sort of humming noise to show she was listening while she undid his shirt. "I went to see my soldiers today and they were asking if I would be taking time off after the wedding. I said I didn't know."
Finished with his shirt, she reached for his breeches. Even after quite a few days of this, it did not fail to turn Jaime on, despite the innocent nature of her help. Jaime took off his shirt while she helped him, glad that Brienne had remembered to add wood to the fire before they left the chambers that morning. Brienne furrowed her brow. "Why don't you know?"
Jaime faltered. When he'd played out this conversation in his head, he had assumed she'd scoff and ask why on earth they would have time off. She would say that there was no need, that they had things to do, a war to prepare for. And what would they do on their week off anyway? Jaime had assumed he would then fuck her to show her what they would do on their week off and she would be happy but still refuse to take time off. Jaime had imagined himself being able to convince her to take one day off.
He did not expect questions that he had not had time to prepare for.
"Erm- well-" She looked amused at his stuttering. Jaime glared at her twitching lips. "I didn't think you would want to take a week off."
She furrowed her brow at him. "Why wouldn't I?"
All these questions. It was as if she thought he was a maester or a mindreader. "Because it's you!" She quirked an eyebrow. Her lips had stopped twitching. "I just mean, you know, I thought you'd want to look after Sansa."
"Jaime, I made a vow to Sansa-"
"Exactly-"
"- but I love you." That brought Jaime up short. He knew that she loved him. He didn't expect that to make a difference to their plans. His lips parted. "Have I rendered the great Jaime Lannister lost for words?" Jaime sniffed a laugh at her teasing but stayed silent. Her amused look turned to concern. "Jaime, what's wrong?"
Jaime shook himself and then shook his head. "No, nothing, I'm just surprised."
She furrowed her brow. "Jaime, you know you're the most important person in my life. Why would I not want to spend a week with you? All you had to do was ask. I'm marrying you. You're going to be my husband. You're the most important person in my life," she repeated. Jaime nodded with a smile.
"I-"
"Am I not yours?" Jaime watched Brienne's face go cold as she asked the question. It took a second for Jaime to realise what she was asking him. "You're thinking that you mustn't be the most important in my life because I'm not the most important in yours." Jaime hated - hated - the look on her face. It reminded him of the way Catelyn Stark had looked at him when he spoke about Cersei when she had released him. It reminded him of the way Brienne had looked at him before he'd jumped into a bear pit, before he'd screamed Sapphires.
"Who else would be?" Jaime snapped, annoyed. Would she ever trust him? He had told her that he loved her, had told her about Cersei, about their horror-show of a relationship. Was she really accusing him of loving Cersei more than her?
Brienne was silent. Jaime ignored his urge to speak. He said stupid things when he was angry. Brienne said stupid things when she was insecure. "I spoke to Tyrion today."
Jaime rolled his eyes to the sky. "And what, Brienne? Did he tell you how I would never fall out of love with Cersei? Did he tell you that I was obsessed with her and that I would do anything for her, that I became as fucking hateful as her?"
"Yes," Brienne shouted and Jaime stepped back, reaching for his shirt from the floor. She'd long since finished undoing his laces.
"And you believe him over me?" Jaime hated this. He hated it so fucking much. The one person in the world that he trusted to believe in him without a doubt, in everything, was doubting him. After everything. "If you trust him over me, Lady Brienne, why don't you just go and fucking marry him instead?" Jaime felt irrationally triumphant when she scowled. The triumph covered the squirming, horrible feeling in his heart at seeing her do anything but smile.
"I'm not saying I believe him, Ser Jaime," she spat. "I'm just scared that you don't know what you're getting into, that you're going-"
"To what?" Jaime interrupted, pointing his shirt at her. "To leave you? To run back to Cersei? Are you going to lie awake at night waiting for me to leave you for the rest of our lives, Brienne?" Huffing, Jaime threw his shirt over his head.
"What are you doing?" she said, her voice wobbling. Jaime turned away from her, hating the insecurity and fear in her eyes. She thought he was going to leave her for Cersei. A huge part of Jaime told him to stay. She was scared of him leaving and he was going to leave her. But not for good. "Where are you going?"
"Not to Cersei, not that you'd believe me," he spat, striding over to the door and leaving through it, with one final look at Brienne. Tears pooled in her eyes. Jaime felt his own eyes prickle and slammed the door before they filled.
He stalked to Tyrion's chambers. His brother was more trouble than he was worth. Why - why - had he spoken to Brienne? Jaime banged as hard as he could on Tyrion's door, ignoring the guard posted outside. The door was barred, as Jaime discovered when he attempted to just shove his way in. "Who is it?" Tyrion's voice said from the inside.
"Open the fucking door," Jaime demanded. His irritation was coiled under his skin. If his brother took any longer to unbar the door, he'd be taking it out on him. When the door was finally opened, Jaime barged past Tyrion and into the room. "Why the fuck did you talk to her?"
Tyrion's mouth gaped slightly. "Brienne, I assume." Jaime hated Tyrion's smug little voice, hated the way he didn't understand how angry Jaime was. "Sansa's already shouted at me for that conversation today. Please don't you start, Jaime."
Jaime clenched and unclenched his hand, the muscles aching to sink into Tyrion's broken little face. "You did this. You made her think that I don't love her," Jaime's voice cracked and he hated himself for it. Tyrion's eyes bulged and Jaime hated that too. "She thinks that she isn't the most important person in her life. I thought she would prioritise Sansa over me and now she thinks that I don't love her."
Tyrion's mouth flapped open and closed like a fish. "Jaime-"
"You put these thoughts in her head! You told her that I would never love anyone but Cersei."
"I'm not sure I said exactly that," Tyrion muttered. Jaime whirred over to his brother, desperate to hit him and get rid of this anger, at himself, at Tyrion, at Brienne, although admittedly the latter was fading. "If she is this worried, the thoughts were already there."
Jaime went blind with anger. A cloud descended over his mind. "You bastard," Jaime spat. There was a knock at the door. Jaime felt a bit of sick pleasure at the look of relief on his brother's face. He was glad he was making him uncomfortable. Tyrion tottered over to the door. Sansa was there, looking between them, lips parted.
"Have him," Jaime hissed as he stormed out of another set of chambers, not looking back to see if Tyrion had tears in his eyes like Brienne had. Brienne.
Jaime found himself in the yard a while later, having wandered aimlessly. He couldn't go back to Brienne, not when he didn't know what to say to her, and he'd never actually got himself his own chambers. He supposed he could go back to his tent with the Lannister soldiers, but then he would have to deal with Bronn and Jaime really wasn't in the mood. Unlike with Tyrion, Jaime couldn't be sure that he could beat the stuffing out of Bronn.
Jaime let himself collapse onto the bench beside the training sword rack, his head falling into his hand. He and Brienne had had such a nice dinner. He'd made her laugh really loudly and everyone had looked at them and she'd hated it but he'd grinned and told her how much he loved the way she laughed. Her eyes had lit up. Her eyes were so beautiful.
She was so beautiful. So Brienne.
Jaime groaned out loud.
"I think my lady would think me quite discourteous if I did not ask you what the matter was, Ser Jaime," a voice interrupted. Gods, he spoke just like her. Jaime looked up to see Brienne's squire Pod watching him with concern in his eyes.
Jaime snorted. "You are her squire, aren't you?" Podrick looked at him, confusion replacing concern in his eyes. "Ignore me. You shouldn't be talking to me. Brienne is pissed at me and you're her mini double so you should be pissed too."
Podrick furrowed his brow. "What did you do?" Jaime groaned and slapped the wood of the bench next to him. Podrick took a seat, resting his sword between his legs.
"Better men than you have lost balls doing that," Jaime commented and Podrick dropped the sword, making Jaime snicker. Then, when Podrick turned his raised eyebrows and hard eyes at him, Jaime told him everything about his argument with Brienne.
"So, basically, she thinks I'm still in love with Cersei and I'm going to have to spend the rest of my life telling her I don't and she'll never believe me and our whole lives will become this farce of-"
"Stop being a dick," the squire said. Jaime blinked. "You don't have to spend the rest of your lives telling her that. You get the privilege of it." Jaime swallowed at the tone in Podrick's voice. "She's spent her whole life being told she isn't good enough to be who she is. She wasn't good enough to be a lady so she became a knight but she's not good enough to be a knight because she is a lady. She's spent her whole life fighting for a place in the world where she feels comfortable and you're expecting her to just believe that you've given up everything that you've ever fought for to be with her. Did she- did she tell you about the ball her father threw for her?"
Jaime furrowed his brow, shaking his head. Brienne hated balls. Surely his father knew that.
"She is her father's heir and her father needed her to provide an heir for after her. So he threw a ball and people came to vie for her hand." Jaime felt his heart sink. "Look, I shouldn't be telling you this but I'm not sure if she ever will, so just listen.
"People danced with her all night. Boys said nice things to her and made her feel as though she was beautiful. They threatened to duel each other for the right to dance with her. They told her they wanted to marry her and take her back to their castles. And she believed them." Jaime closed his eyes against what he knew Podrick was about to say. "It was all a joke. They started sniggering at her, calling her Brienne the Beauty."
"But that must have been years ago," Jaime protested. Surely she could see that she was so much more than the way she looked, more than what those stupid boys had told her. Podrick nodded.
"But don't you see? Her whole life has just been a repeat of that." Jaime thought of the words he said when he met her, the way he had treated her. He remembered what she had said about knocking men like him into the dust. "She is the truest, most wonderful knight in Westeros and she is mostly aware of that, but, when it comes to love, she doesn't think she deserves it. She doesn't think she fits into that world. So, yes, if you have to spend the rest of your life convincing her-"
"Then, that'll be that," Jaime said firmly. "You're right, Pod. She- oh fuck- right, okay, thanks Pod." Jaime scrambled up from his seat, patting Pod on the head awkwardly. He scurried away hurriedly, turning back just once, to say, "you're a good man, Podrick."
XXX
"You didn't have to knock," Brienne said coldly when she opened the door to Jaime, who shuffled into the room. Jaime shrugged. Brienne closed the door, staring at it for a moment to try and put her emotions back into place.
"I didn't know if I was welcome." Brienne felt her face soften. He stood by the fireplace. Brienne took a seat on the longue chaise opposite, her knees pressed together to stop the shaking. "I spoke to Pod," he said, looking at her with his piercing green eyes. "Well, I spoke to Tyrion first but that was more of a shouting match than a conversation. Pod, he told me about the ball." Jaime moved to sit down next to her. Brienne flinched away, a feeling of cold rushing through her chest.
"He shouldn't have."
"I'm glad he did." Jaime reached and placed his hand on Brienne's knee. "Brienne, I love you. You are the most important person in my life. Everything I do, I do for you. I want you to know that I understand why you think I'm going to go back to Cersei. I truly do. But I'm not." Brienne clenched her jaw, looking away from him purposefully. "I don't care if I have to tell you that every morning and every night for the rest of our lives. I love you and I want to spend my life with you."
Brienne wanted to shuffle closer to him on the chaise. She wanted to shuffle away so she was pressing up against the arm. She stayed where she was. "I know you're scared," Jaime said, brushing his thumb across Brienne's knee. "And I understand. Gods, Brienne, I know I'm not good enough for you and I'm scared that one day you're going to realise that and leave me. That's why I didn't think you would want to have time off after the wedding. I didn't think I was the most important person in your life because I know I don't deserve to be."
Brienne took his hand in both of hers and brought it to her mouth, kissing it. He smiled softly. Brienne moved closer to him. "I love you," she whispered. "I promise to do better." He shook his head.
"No, I promise to do better. I've never- Brienne, this is new for me too." Brienne frowned and nodded. She knew it was. She knew that Cersei had treated him like shit, that it hadn't been an equal relationship, but that he'd adored her anyway. Brienne was not going to do that to him. "I love you."
"I love you." Brienne let him kiss her, his hand worming out from her hands and caressing her cheek.
"You can finish undoing my breeches now, if you'd like," he said cheekily when he pulled away, his eyes dark. Brienne's laugh bubbled out of her.
"You're ridiculous," she said, reaching for his laces. Jaime waggled his eyebrows at her, reaching his hand to her face again and bringing her to him for a searing kiss.
"I love you, Brienne," he said, looking into her eyes so earnestly that, to Brienne's horror, she felt the tears from earlier returning. She pressed another kiss to his lips and let a few tears fall. His lips brushed a butterfly kiss against one as it reached her chin. She refocused on his breeches, finishing his laces and pulling back, kissing him.
"Take me to bed," she muttered against his lips.
XXX
"How can I help you, Lady Sansa?" Tyrion said when Sansa had entered his chambers, the sound of Jaime slamming the door still resonating. Sansa had bugs crawling beneath her skin but she forced herself to stand still. She had sat in her chambers for half an hour deciding what she would say in this conversation, playing out a hundred different scenarios so that she was fully prepared.
She placed herself on the window seat, her knees pressed together and her hands clasped on the crease between her legs. Tyrion came over to join her, sitting opposite. It was just as Sansa had imagined in her mind. "I wanted to talk to you," Sansa started, not feeling nearly as confident as she was making herself sound. Tyrion nodded, his face completely still. Sansa could not read him. "This afternoon was a surprise to me."
"It was to me as well, my lady."
His use of my lady actually helped calm Sansa's nerves. If she was just his lady, the stakes were lower. If she was his lover, the stakes were far higher. "I enjoyed it." Tyrion's mask broke and his lips twitched.
"I did as well, my lady."
"I didn't expect to enjoy it." Tyrion's mask rose back up over his features. "When I say that, I don't say it as though I had imagined it before. I hadn't, truly, not since we were married. But I had imagined laying with someone again and I had not expected to enjoy it." Tyrion's face didn't change. Sansa wondered how much he had heard of her marriage to Ramsay. "I have had sex more times than I recall, Lord Tyrion. I was married to Ramsay for a long time. It felt that way when I was living it."
Tyrion swallowed. Sansa kept her eyes fixed to his bobbing voice box. "Sansa-"
Sansa cut him off before she lost her nerve. "Ramsay raped me every night that we were married. It was rape even though we were married. I was his wife without consent and I did not consent to our sex. It hurt. It hurt so much that I could not imagine anyone enjoying it, ever. I could not imagine him enjoying it. It was like being torn apart inside, every night."
"Sansa, I'm so sorry." His face showed that he was. His mask had fallen. Sansa did not allow hers to, even in spite of the subject matter. If her mask slipped, her emotions did too.
"I wanted to tell you so that you understand when I say thank you." Tyrion's brow creased. "You made me realise that I can live a life like any other lady and get married and have heirs. The thought of that had been making me want to tear my hair out, to scream and run away, but I'm not scared anymore. I can marry someone and live my life like I would have before Ramsay."
Tyrion gave her a tremulous smile. "I'm very glad to have been of use, my lady." Sansa had expected him to make some sort of joke there, so she was unsurprised. She allowed him a smile. "Will you wait to wed?"
"No," Sansa said. Tyrion's face changed into surprise.
"Who will you wed?" he asked.
"I wanted to wait until I found someone who would make me happy-"
"Then you should," Tyrion interrupted. Sansa ignored him.
"But then I realised I have already found him." Tyrion glanced outside to the empty yard. Sansa wished she could read his mind.
"Who is it? A Northerner?"
Sansa's lips twitched. "No, my lord. I was rather hoping you would do me the honour."
