Brienne was out of bed and halfway dressed when she remembered what day it was. Usually, she had Jaime beside her snoring or taking up too much room or with his head between her legs to remind her that he was hers and she was his and that she was not living in a dream. This day, she had woken alone and with the kiss of dream Jaime fading quickly. With the realisation that dream Jaime was truly an imitation of the real thing that today she gained access to for the rest of her life, Brienne froze, a smile burgeoning on her lips before she could help it. The sun breaking through the window struck her face, forcing her to close her eyes. She was getting married today.

Sansa had yet to deliver her outfit for the wedding, meaning Brienne was slightly at a loss as to what to do with herself. She stepped over to the window and looked out. She could hardly see beyond the walls, just the snow and the smoke coming from Jaime's camp, rising like dancers in the sky. She wondered whether he was awake yet, wondered how he had slept without her. Suppressing a smile, she thought that she would be the one who benefitted from an empty bed. He was the far more annoying sleeper.

The night before had been lovely, in the end, though she had doubted its advantages when Sansa had turned up at her door. She had enjoyed the female companionship, something she had been lacking since the girls at Evenfall Hall had grown up and married away, or decided Brienne was not the sort of girl they wanted to spend time with. It was very nice to have friends.

The door sounded and Brienne's head turned as a maid entered with a tray. Brienne furrowed her brow. She had not sent for any food. The maid lay the tray down on her table by the fire and then bobbed a curtsey. "Lady Sansa sent me, my lady. She said you've to eat it all, no matter how nervous you feel." Brienne cracked half a smile and thanked the mousy girl, who bobbed another curtsey and left, closing the door lightly behind her.

Brienne sat down at the table, surveying what Sansa had sent her: a bowl of porridge with cinnamon, a floral tea and some rice cakes. Brienne's stomach growled. She had a private smile. Sansa may have felt nervous on the day before her wedding and perhaps anticipated that she would feel nervous again when she remarried Lord Tyrion but Brienne was not Sansa and she had nothing to be nervous about. Jaime wanted to marry her and Brienne wanted to marry Jaime. And she did not care if it went off without a hitch. As long as she ended the morning as Jaime's wife, she would be happy. More than happy.

Brienne dug into her porridge with gusto. She never understood how big events turned people to starving themselves. Food was sustenance and sustenance was strength. Essential for the small days and the big.

When the bottom of her bowl was clean and her rice cakes were crumbs on the plate, Brienne brought the cup of tea to her lips and took a sip, just as the door went again. Sansa did not even bother to knock, Brienne noticed with a twitch of her lips. "Good morning, Sansa," she said with amusement.

Sansa positively beamed. "Good morning, Lady Lannister." Brienne flushed. That was one part of the life that came after the wedding that she was not looking forward to. Lady Lannister was one of the few remaining foremost ladies of the land, alongside Sansa as Lady Stark, Sansa's aunt by marriage as Lady Tully and Lady Yara Greyjoy. Brienne's life had been aided significantly by the fact she was a minor lady. If not, she would have had little chance of fighting in melées and becoming part of Renly's guard and she was grateful, but more power meant more scrutiny and more insults for a lady wearing breeches.

Fortunately, she was marrying a kind and accepting man.

"How are you feeling?" Sansa asked, waving in a hoard of maids from the doorframe and sitting down opposite Brienne at the breakfast table. Brienne's stomach dropped. One of the tittering girls carried Brienne's outfit, the others various other pieces that were essential to getting ready to be a bride. "Don't worry," Sansa whispered when she found Brienne looking aghast. "They're not staying."

Sansa was right. As soon as the girls had hung up the clothing and placed boxes here and thereabouts, they left the apartment, taking their giggles with them. Brienne gave Sansa a small, grateful smile. Sansa reached for her hand across the table and her smaller, softer hand caressed Brienne's large, calloused one. "Just you and me."

They got Brienne dressed first. Sansa had bought special undergarments which made Brienne flush wildly, in embarrassment at what Sansa was implying and in anticipation for Jaime seeing them. Brienne dressed in those and then stepped out from behind the screen, allowing Sansa to hold out the outfit for Brienne to step into.

When Sansa had approached Brienne with the idea for the outfit, Brienne had been shocked and intrigued. Sansa had suggested an ensemble which included a corset but with breech like bottoms, rather than flowing skirts. As the sewing process went on, Brienne had become more and more accustomed to the idea and, at the final fitting, she had been enamoured by the effect, as she was now.

It was white, as Northern brides always were, but with blue cuffs at the end of trouser legs which flowed like skirts, giving Brienne's legs room to breathe and giving the effect of a dress with the practicality and comfort of breeches. At the waist, which was defined by the very style of the outfit, there was a simple Lannister red ribbon with gold embroidered bursts of sun. The corset was covered by a high-necked top-half, which featured delicate white embroidery, also of sun bursts, but smaller than those on the ribbon, and they glimmered when the sunlight hit. Around the back of the outfit was the part that had shocked Brienne the most. A hole was left open, showing off the beautiful corset Sansa had confessed to purchasing rather than embroidering herself. It was a light blue with the same gold embroidering as the waistband, but with a subtle wave pattern rather than suns. The whole thing was tied together at the top, under her neck, by a bow, which Sansa had created specially for Jaime to be able to tug at one end and the whole ensemble would loosen enough to take off.

It was the most exquisite, detailed, thought-out outfit that Brienne had ever worn. And she truly loved it.

"I have a gift," Sansa said when they had both suitably admired the outfit and Sansa had braided the sides of Brienne's hair so that she looked like Brienne but slightly fancier. Brienne turned to Sansa.

"You've already done so much," she protested. Sansa shook her head and opened a small box to reveal a gold necklace with a small and simple sapphire as its pendant. Brienne looked at Sansa unsurely.

"You are my closest friend and I want you to wear this. It was my mother's." Brienne tried to swallow the lump in her throat and fight against the burning in her eyes. She allowed Sansa to fasten the necklace and then step away.

"Perfect," she said softly. Brienne slipped on the simple brown shoes Sansa had allowed her to wear. They would be covered by the long white legs of the outfit anyway.

"Sansa," Brienne said, taking Sansa's hand. "Thank you."

Sansa nodded once and then the door went for a third time. Sansa went to open it and found Arya, Daenerys and Missandei waiting behind it. Brienne pushed her thumbs against her eyes and turned to them. Arya approached first, declaring her "fantastic" and delivering a smacking kiss to her cheek. Daenerys gave her a pair of blue gems to clip onto her ears as a gift, after telling her how marvelous the outfit was. Missandei attached the gems to her ears. It was an odd sensation but not entirely horrid.

Brienne was ready then and, swallowing, she suddenly felt a rush of nerves come to her stomach. This was it. She was marrying Jaime. This was huge.

"I am so happy that we are having a wedding," Daenerys said as Missandei handed her the bubbly wine Arya had brought. Brienne sipped at hers and found the sensation pleasant against her tongue. "It is nice to know that a couple can be happy together even when it feels as though the whole world does not want it."

Brienne glanced at Sansa and found her looking wistful. She was fairly certain she was thinking of Tyrion. Brienne didn't consider the whole world to be against her and Jaime. She wondered who Daenerys meant by the whole world. From Brienne's eyes, what the whole world thought didn't matter. All that mattered was what she and Jaime thought. Whether Cersei or Tyrion or whoever was against it was irrelevant. Perhaps it was just Daenerys trying to find happiness in her own situation. Brienne had noticed the closeness that Daenerys had been sharing with Jon had become rather distant.

Brienne sipped more wine, deciding to put the whole thing out of her mind. It was her wedding day and, for once, she would not think of anyone but herself. And Jaime. This evening, she would think of naught but Jaime she was sure. She willed her face not to blush at that thought. Watching Sansa and Daenerys converse over a glass of wine, Brienne smiled, meeting Arya's twinkling eyes with her own. A wedding was the perfect way to bring people together.

XXX

The sound of the fifty or so people in the crypt shuffling suddenly to their feet alerted Jaime that Brienne had arrived. He begged the nerves in his stomach to quell so that he could say the vows properly. He bounced from heel to toe in anticipation. He was sure that Sansa had forced her into a dress that she didn't want to wear but was too polite to say no to and she was going to look awful and it was going to be so so wonderful. She was going to be so so beautiful.

As the lute began to play, Jaime inhaled deeply, making eyes at the septon who was no doubt watching Brienne. He wanted to do this properly, to look at her for the first time at the altar. But what was the use of tradition now? She'd be here and he just wanted to look. He peered his head over his shoulder and saw her.

She was breathtaking.

A smile rose on Jaime's face as he met her sparkling eyes, so big and blue. Arya and Sansa walked behind her. Someone had wrestled the younger Stark girl into a dress. Jaime figured that was more of a mean feat than Brienne. It was only as Brienne approached that Jaime realised that the contraption that took Brienne's body and highlighted all of the amazing bits of it was not a dress but a top attached to an odd pair of flowy breeches that looked like they belonged in Dorne. Dressed in white, like the maid she had once been, she was truly perfection.

When she was close enough, Jaime reached his hand out to her, too desperate to wait to touch her, and she took it. Their callouses rubbed together pleasantly, making Jaime curse himself for having them apart on their wedding night. He had missed her so much. She came closer and took his stump in her other hand, her thumb caressing the sensitive skin there. Jaime looked down at it and then back up at her. Her hair had pretty bits in the sides but she still looked like Brienne.

Turning to where Sansa and Arya were finding their seats on the front row, Jaime mouthed to them, "thank you." Arya winked and Sansa smiled. Jaime wasn't sure if he was thanking them for delivering his bride or for ensuring her wedding was comfortable for her and not for them.

After a brief prayer in which Jaime did not close his eyes but focussed on the wondrous woman in front of him, the septon turned to Sansa and said, "My lady, please remove the cloak." Jaime had hardly noticed the cloak covering Brienne's shoulders, sapphire blue with gold trimmings, too focussed on the revolutionary outfit Sansa had created her. Sansa stood and approached, removing Brienne's cloak without forcing her to let go of Jaime's hands. She took the cloak and returned to her seat.

Then the septon said another prayer. With all the eyes in the church closed, Jaime mouthed to his bride, "you look beautiful". She furrowed her brow and Jaime rolled his eyes, grinning. He leaned in and pressed his mouth to her ear. "You look beautiful," he whispered. When he pulled back, her eyes were glistening. Jaime smiled broadly.

When the septon finished his prayer, he said, "My lord, the husband's cloak."

With great regret, Jaime let go of Brienne's hands to take the cloak from Tyrion who was seated on the front row. He met eyes with his brother and grinned, taking the red cloak, trimmed with ermine fur and covered with gold threaded-lions. Jaime moved to Brienne's back, where he was momentarily surprised by the sight of her corset. He heaved the cloak over her shoulders and bent close to her ear, hissing softly, "you might have to help me here, wench." She took one side of the cloak's tie and Jaime took the other and they tied it together. Finished, Jaime pressed a butterfly's kiss to the side of her neck and returned to his place, taking her hand and allowing her to take his stump, watching her in his house colours with great fondness.

Yet another prayer followed. Jaime could not take his eyes from Brienne's. He wanted to kiss her. He could not wait to kiss her and make her his wife. Lady Lannister. Jaime wondered if he would be able to call himself Jaime Lannister of Tarth after this. If he shared his title, surely she would too.

Then, the time came for the vows. Sharing a smile, they said together, "with this kiss I pledge my love."

And then he kissed her, softly but properly. This was perhaps the only time he would ever get to kiss her truly in public, her being as she was, and he wanted to enjoy it. By the time he pulled away, her eyes were dark and her lips were puffy. Jaime grinned, ignoring the whistles and hoots that they were receiving from the guests. He could definitely pick out Bronn's voice.

The septon smiled then and stretched out his hands. "I declare you man and wife. You are one flesh, one heart, one soul, now and forever."

One flesh, one heart, one soul.

Now and forever.

Unable to diminish his grin, Jaime leapt forward, cupping the back of Brienne's neck and kissing her again.

XXX

Brienne smiled as the whole room cheered at their entry. Jaime had his arm wrapped around her waist, his fingers curled against her stomach. The great hall was decorated beautifully. Blue, red and gold sunbursts dangled from the ceiling and covered the walls. Tears came to Brienne's eyes and she blinked them away quickly. The amount of effort that had gone into this wedding was appreciated immensely.

Jaime leaned over to her and Brienne felt her hairs stand on end at his closeness. "How long do you think this good feeling towards me will last?"

Brienne smiled down at him. "I think it's actually good feeling towards me," she teased him, enjoying the way his green eyes lit up. "I love you," she said, wishing they weren't in public so she could kiss him. Jaime beamed at her and pulled his fingers closer against her outfit. She wished she could feel him on her skin but this would do for now.

Brienne and Jaime had the top seats at the table. Despite Sansa saying that the feast would also celebrate the victory over the dead, the only thing seemingly celebrated was Brienne and Jaime's wedding. Brienne wouldn't put it past Sansa to have lied so that Brienne would agree to the feast.

They took their seats to the general applause of the Winterfell citizens. Brienne lavished her attention on Jaime, rather than focus on the amount of people looking at them and what they were doing. Sansa claimed the seat next to Brienne and Tyrion next to Jaime. The queen was further down the table. Brienne could not quite believe that the queen of Westeros had given up her seat so that they could celebrate her wedding.

"Do you like the decorations, Brienne?" Sansa asked after the first course of their midday feast was served. Brienne nodded, sipping her wine.

"I suppose you did this as well?"

Sansa shook her head. "It was her," she said, nodding towards Queen Daenerys who was smiling without a hint of sorrow or anxiety for the war to come, seated beside Jon Snow. "She truly wanted this to be special for you."

Brienne swallowed the lump in her throat. "I am very grateful for all you have all done."

"We are very grateful," Jaime said from behind her, placing a kiss on her shoulder.

"Sorry, Sansa, I've stopped giving him attention for over a minute. He's very needy." Sansa laughed freely and Jaime squawked and punished her with a kiss to her neck which had her whipping her face towards him, flushing red and hissing "Jaime!". He grinned freely too. Brienne felt happiness lighten her heart. The sense of freedom of responsibility in the room was wonderful.

"I am not needy," Jaime said with a pout. Tyrion scoffed from the side of him and Brienne laughed, picking up Jaime's goblet and passing it to him to drink while she cut up his food. "Maybe I'm only needy for you," Jaime said, nuzzling his face against her shoulder.

Brienne flushed. "How many of those have you had?" she asked, nodding at his goblet. Jaime chuckled.

"Very few. I'm drunk on you."

"You're ridiculous, Jaime." He grinned and winked at her when she pushed his plate back to him. He took her hand and placed a lingering kiss on her knuckles, lifting his eyes to meet hers. She found his green orbs full of promises of the night to come. A shiver ran down her spine, settled as a throb between her thighs.

XXX

"It's wonderful to watch, isn't it?" Sansa commented as she took Jaime's vacated seat. Jaime and Brienne were one of many couples on the dancefloor. Sansa had not expected Brienne to dance, as she had a vocalised hate for it, but Jaime had dragged her up and she was as graceful a dancer as she was a swordswoman. Sansa thought the attention of people watching the dancing had more to do with her hatred than the act itself.

Tyrion turned his head towards her, away from Jaime and Brienne. His eyes dropped to her lips and Sansa felt a satisfied squirm in her stomach at his obvious attraction to her. "It is - wonderful," Tyrion said simply.

"Did you enjoy the wedding, my lord?" Sansa asked.

"Yes, I did, my lady," he replied, emphasising the title and smiling at her in a way that made Sansa feel silly for not addressing him as though they were at least friends, if not lovers. "It was very lovely that you stood in for Brienne's father."

"She is my closest friend and most valued ally."

"And here I thought you were fonder of me," Tyrion said. Sansa turned to him, her mouth open and ready to speak when she realised he was teasing her. She blushed ever so slightly and bit her lip. "I wanted to talk to you, Sansa," he said lowly. Sansa furrowed her brow at him. "I-" he stumbled and looked around them before fixing his eyes on hers. "Marry me."

"What?" burst from Sansa's mouth before she could help it.

"Marry me," he repeated. A bubble of laughter escaped Sansa and her lips stretched into a broad smile.

"Ask again," she demanded with joy and Tyrion rolled his eyes. "I'm going to be your wife. Do what I say! Ask again!" He smiled at her and the excitement rose in her like a swarm of birds in the morning, singly sweetly and in harmony.

"Sansa, will you marry me?" he said slowly, enunciating each word, and Sansa grinned widely, feeling like the girl she had dreamed of being, feeling like she was living the life she had dreamed of having.

"Yes," Sansa whispered, before leaning down and kissing him soundly on the lips. She pulled away and found him dumbfounded, his lips parted and his eyes wide. She pecked his lips again. "Husband."

Tyrion broke out of his trance with a genuine smile, no sarcasm or mocking to be found. "Wife."

XXX

Tyrion watched Sansa dance with her brother. Inside, his stomach twisted with the disappointment of knowing he would never dance with her like Jon was dancing with her.

"Lord Tyrion." His queen's voice interrupted his pity party.

"Your grace," Tyrion replied, inclining his head and watching her take Jaime's seat, where Sansa had been sitting before Jon stole her from him. "How can I be of service to you?"

"Did I just see you kiss Lady Stark?" Daenerys said lightly. Tyrion grimaced.

"Well, I rather think she kissed me, but yes, for all intents and purposes, you are right."

Tyrion knew that sarcasm would not help here but it was the Lannister default and his most powerful defensive weapon. Daenerys gave him a chilling look. "And when were you going to tell me about your relationship with Lady Sansa?"

"It was hardly a relationship worth speaking about until just now, your grace," Tyrion said, though he knew it was not true. The second Sansa had kissed him the first time, he had been gone, lost in affection for her, if not love. "I have just asked her to marry me."

Daenerys' whole face screwed up. "And were you going to talk to me about this at all?"

Tyrion glanced at Sansa, at her smile, at the way her body moved. She was so glorious, such a perfect lady. He did not know what he had done to deserve such a woman but he was so pleased to have her. And have her he would. He turned back to Daenerys but found that her face had softened. "You are in love with her," she stated.

Tyrion's mouth dropped open. "I care deeply for Sansa," he insisted. Daenerys nodded once and reached for his hand.

"Who am I to deny your happiness, my lord hand?"

And, with a squeeze of his hand, she stood and left the ballroom. Tyrion's lips parted. He had no clue what had happened there.

XXX

Jaime was stealing a moment with his wife outside of the great hall when the dragon queen interrupted. "Lord Jaime," she said, striding over to him. Jaime noticed she was without a guard but didn't comment on it. "I wish to give you a wedding gift of a sort." Furrowing his brow, Jaime considered the wording of her sentence. "I want to allow you and your men to fight in the war."

Jaime's mouth fell open. "Your grace-" he started without knowing how he would finish. Thankfully, she cut in before he could. Jaime felt Brienne's thumb brush the back of his hand and he squeezed her hand in gratitude.

"Do not betray me, Ser Jaime. I do not deal well with betrayal." Jaime nodded once, swallowing harshly. She left then, continuing walking past them. Jaime wondered briefly why she was alone and less briefly what had changed her mind about letting him fight. He leaned his head back against the cold stone wall behind him, Brienne standing stalwart by his side.

"I'm tired, Jaime," Brienne whispered a few instants later. Jaime turned curious eyes to her. It was barely the middle of the afternoon. He glanced outside the open door a few steps away. The sun had set but it was nowhere near time for sleep. He met her eyes. "I'm tired," she insisted with wide eyes.

A smirk rose on Jaime's face. His wife was not tired at all. "It is not even four, my love," he said, peeling himself from the wall to stand fully upright by her. He rubbed circles on her palm with his thumb.

"The sun has set," she said a bit unsurely. Jaime's lips twitched.

"This is the North. The sun sets early here. Do you not want to enjoy our wedding feast more?" he teased. Her face fell.

"Do you want to take me to bed or not?" she demanded and Jaime's laughter burst from him, forgetting all about the dragon queen and her threats should he betray her.

"I definitely do," he said, glancing at the merriment going on within the great hall. "Let's go to bed, wife," Jaime said, enjoying the endearment about as much as he enjoyed wench, though he was sure Brienne appreciated this new one more than the old.

"Bed," Brienne confirmed, her eyes flashing. With one last glance at the feast, Jaime wondered whether he should have drunk less wine. He had a feeling his wife was going to keep him up all night.