What Was Left

by BraimeWins

From the rubble of the Red Keep, Jaime is left alive with nothing but his love for Brienne and his regrets over leaving her. While Brienne, finds that she has been left with so much than just his memory. (Post Season 8 Fix-It).

25. Chapter 25

Lord Selwyn Tarth of Evenfall Hall
cordially invites you to the wedding
of his daughter,
Ser Brienne of Tarth
To
Ser Jaime Lannister
Of Casterly Rock

His hungry lips feasted upon the warm salty flesh of her bare shoulder. She sighed at his touch, nestling further into her pillow, comforted by his mere presence. She was turned from him, obscuring his view of her lovely face. He took the opportunity to glory in the perfection of the rest of her. The sun's rays were just beginning to find their way through the open window and bathed her in a heavenly light which gave her body, the one he had enjoyed the previous night, an ethereal glow as if she were an angel. At last, as his kisses traveled to her neck she awoke. Rolling lazily over to face him, she sighed affectionately, her hand reaching to caress his jaw.

"Good Morning, My Lord." Sansa purred, stretching radiantly.

Tyrion growled his low seductive reply. "Good Morning, My Queen." He answered as he wrapped her in his arms. "Did you sleep well?" He inquired, kissing her temple.

Sansa smiled and curled deeper into his embrace. "Better than I have in a long while." She assured him gleefully, reaching for another long passionate kiss.

"As did I." Tyrion agreed. He pulled Sansa closer and breathed in her sweet scent. It intoxicated him more than even the finest Dornish wines had ever done. "I waited, as I told you I would." He reminded her. She tilted her head to regard him in confusion.

"Once you declared you might never allow me into your bed." He repeated the warning she had voiced on the night of their forced wedding so long ago.

Sansa blushed, her face falling in regret. "I was a silly girl." She shook her head apologizetically, and reached for his hand.

Tyrion clenched her hand to his heart. "You were a frightened child." He said, allowing none of her repentance, before raising Sansa's finger to his lips. For a long moment he stared into her eyes, the lines of his forehead depeening as he imagined all she had suffered since then. "I kept my watch, although perhaps not well." He lamented.

Sansa raised herself upon one elbow indignantly. "I am the one who ran." She bemoaned. "I should never have left you in Kings Landing to face those false charges alone." Tears came to Sansa's eyes at the thought that he might have been executed.

Her words were hushed by his touch upon her cheek. He guided her eyes to his. "If you had not, we might both be dead." He told her.

Sansa chuckled sarcastically. "And still, I came close to that more than once on my path." She lowered her eyes, embarrassed, and laid her head once more on the pillow beside his.

As if he could keep all the evils of the world from her, Tyrion pulled Sansa to him. She laid her head upon his bare chest. "I wish I could take all of it away from you." His pained whisper rustled her hair.

"I know you do." She assured him, squeezing his hand. "I would be lying if I said did not wish it had not happened." Sansa nodded. "But it did, as did all of the perils through which you survived." She gave a thankful sigh of relief. "Now we can ensure nothing like that ever happens to either of us again." She turned to him, her eyes determined. "I am not a child anymore, Tyrion." Sansa's breath washed hot over his skin. "I know what I want, and it is not some silly simpering prince." She said forcefully, her hand traveling beneath the quilts on a path to the part of his anatomy that had given her such pleasure as they had fallen into the sheets together.

A gasp sprang from Tyrion's throat. "And what is it you want, my dear Sansa?" He feigned shock at her behavior, although he was thoroughly enjoying the aggressive side of her.

"I want a real man." Sansa proclaimed. "I want you, My Lord." She swore.

"You have always had me." Tyrion confessed, laying Sansa back on the pillow, tasting her perfect lips.

When they parted, the couple rested together arm in arm, until a thought occured to Tyrion which caused him to stammer bashfully at Sansa. "Shall I fetch moon tea for you?" He offered, hopefully.

"No!" Sansa announced, her eyes shocked, a tinge of hurt in her glare.

His shoulders slumping in defeat, Tyrion tried to appeal to her sense of reason. "What if my seed should take root in your belly?" He warned. "I am rather potent." A hint of a sly smile playing on his face.

Sansa laughed sweetly at the vision, and his self proclaimed prowess. "Then I shall be the happiest woman in all the kingdoms." Sansa vowed, proudly.

Tyrion shook his head sadly, unable to look her In the eyes. "What if a child suffers my affliction?" He pressed, unwilling to imagine bringing a poor child cursed with the same stature as he into the world to suffer at the hands of the ignorant, as he had.

Sansa's face softened. Her loving gaze washed over him as if she was already picturing Tyrion with the children she hoped to bare him. "Then our child will be just like their father, and I shall love him, or her, with all of my heart." She swore proudly.

He beheld her as one would a miracle. She knew more about him than any woman ever had and still she wanted him. His heart thrilled that the loveliest and kindest woman with whom the God's themselves had graced the world was in his arms. A goddess herself among the living, and she had chosen him. Before Tyrion could declare his undying passion for her, Sansa leaned in, pinning him to the matress.

"I love you." Sansa swore to him. "I love you." She repeated, the intensity of her stare boring through him as if she were carving the words in stone.

Softly, he took her face in his hand. He regarded his rare treasure with awe. "My sweet Sansa." He sighed, as if she were all he would ever need to sustain him. "I love you." He told her, unable to control his trembling or the earnest tears that threatened his eyes. "Marry me, My Love." He begged. When he had envisioned the moment of his proposal to the woman he loved, he had always imagined himself bending his knee before her, and asking for her hand with an arrogance befitting a man of his reputation. However, this had been the moment his heart had told him was the time. He did not think she would mind. He was correct.

Her breath catching in her throat, Sansa's happiness threatened to burst forth in sobs of joy. Never had a moment been more perfect. "Yes!" She nodded. "Yes, I will marry you." She agreed, happily. The adoring kiss they shared sealed their promise, and their future.

When their lungs had exhausted themselves, and their minds could once more form thoughts they laid in each other's arms content and filled with blissful belonging. "We should wait to tell of our happy news, at least until after the wedding." Sansa thought aloud as she leaned against Tyrion and played with a strand of her hair which she had retrieved from over his chest.

"Yes." Tyrion nodded. "I suppose we should. "My brother and Brienne have waited almost as long for their happiness as have we." He described.

"And have endured their own trials to be together as one." Sansa agreed.

"I would not wish anything to be a distraction from the celebration of their marriage." Tyrion continued.

"This is their day." Sansa finished his thought.

"We shall have ours. Soon." He promised, grinning with excitement. "And it will be glorious." He asserted.

"Where will we wed?" Sansa inquired, with a giddy fascination to match his own. She hoped he would find her home in the North suitable, but wondered if he might wish to take their vows in Kings Landing under Bran's watchful eye. She thought Tyrion's own estate of Casterly Rock might also be preferable to him.

"I believe the Godswood at Winterfell would be a lovely place to join our lives." He smiled.

Sansa threw her arms around his neck and kissed him with glee. "I hoped you would agree to that." She admitted.

"I can think of no more perfect place." He smiled thoughtfully at her.

Urgently, Sansa sat up and regarded him. Her tone turned serious. "I do not wish to be parted from you." She said gravely. "Would you return North with me, as my intended Lord Husband, and the Hand to the Queen?" Sansa requested, hopefully.

Tyrion lost himself in her eyes. He could have laid there, reveling in Sansa's presence for eternity. "My Love, I would like nothing better in all the world than to see to your every whim." He accepted. "However." Tyrion paused. "Since I am currently in your brother's service, we shall need to get his blessing and ask him to release me from my current post." His brow creased. "Do you think we can convince him?" He worried.

"Darling." Sansa's smile gleamed. "I am certain once my brother sees how happy we are, there is no way he could deny us." She predicted.

Tyrion tried to take strength in her confidence. "Perhaps he has seen this all along." He shrugged, before returning his attention to Sansa's beautiful body, which was pressing closer and ever more needfully against him. Newly betrothed and dreaming of their life together, Tyrion and Sansa shared a long slow kiss. They forced themselves to conclude their ardent exploration of every inch of each other, for there were other details which needed tending. Another couple was to be joined as one this day. They parted with the promise of continuing the profession of their love once the festivities were concluded.

The morning of their wedding found Jaime and Brienne the same as any other since they had arrived to their life on Tarth, lounging in each other's arms. As sound a sleeper as his mother, Galladon had not yet awakened when the sun began to peak through the windows of their chambers. Jaime intended to take full advantage of the calm before the day's festivities were to begin. He nestled against Brienne, his stump resting over her rounding belly, his lips enjoying every graceful inch of her neck.

With a soft moaning sigh, Brienne awoke to her betrothed's amorous explorations. She laughed to herself, and settled back against him. "Don't you think we should save something for our wedding night?" She teased.

A low growl sounded from Jaime's throat as he traced a circle over the life growing in her abdomen with his handless arm. "You do not think there is any tiny part of you with which I am not already intimately familiar?" He asked proudly. Brienne answered him by tilting her head back to enjoy the sensation of his other arm rising so that his hand clasped the supple mound of one of her breasts. Her heady gasp let him know she had rethought her previous protest, and like him, saw no logical reason to wait.

Gently, he rolled her to face him. Jaime placed a tender wanton kiss over Brienne's tingling lips. "Who knows when I shall be rousted from these quarters and set along my merry way, while you are primped and preened and treated as you should always be." He pouted, his breath mingling enticingly with hers.

"Hmph!" Brienne rolled her eyes. "I would much rather spend my day with you and Galladon along the shore." She declared, glancing toward the sound of their son's deep sleeping breathes.

Jaime smiled at the thought. "As would I, Wife." He agreed.

Her eyes glinted with an amused sparkle. "I am not your wife yet." Brienne lifted her chin in mock defiance, and tried to turn away from him, knowing he would follow.

"Oh really?" Jaime called her bluff. He stopped her momentum by wrapping himself around her. He caressed the bulge of her belly knowingly, and kissing her neck once more, this time with much more force. "Have you tired of me?" He questioned with a chuckle. "Or perhaps my lady has decided she can live without me." He scoffed.

Brienne's expression grew thoughtful, her tone melancholy. The images that swirled involuntarily through her brain reminded her that there was a time she thought him lost to her. Lovingly, Brienne slid her fingers along his jaw, unable to forget that once she believed her life stretched before her, without him. "We tried that, remember." She recalled, sadly.

As if reading her thoughts, Jaime was desperate to comfort his bride. He kissed the bridge of Brienne's elegant nose, and rested his forehead to hers. His own eyes closing to chase away the painful memories. "Even death could not keep me from your side." Jaime swore to her. She held tightly to him in relief.

Suddenly, as if to lighten the mood in the room, and much as Jaime had predicted, their intimate moment was interrupted by a quick excited knock upon their door, and the echoes of female giggling from the corridor. "I believe those would be my bridesmaids." Brienne laughed into her pillow. A cooing Galladon, awakened by the sounds of merriment, added his voice to the commotion.

"Just a moment." Brienne answered the call for her attention from the other side of the door. "You'd better get dressed." She warned Jaime, sliding from their warm cushioned refuge and throwing her dressing gown around her frame. "Or you may find your bare arse the subject of much female gossip." She told him gleefully over her shoulder as she bent to tend their son in his cradle.

Jaime cocked his head to one side. "Well, as long as the commentary is complimentary." He paused, reclining against the pillows and showing no signs of moving.

Brienne shook her head as she folded a fresh napkin around Galladon's chubby legs, wondering just how much coaxing it would take to remove Jaime from their chambers. Once their babe had been settled to her breast, Brienne returned and sat softly upon their bed, nestling beside Jaime's relaxed form.

"My Dearest, any description of your physique could be nothing but flattering." She stroked his ego. "However, I do not intend for every noble woman and scullery maid between and here and Winterfell to make the image of my husband's naked body the subject of their most lurid fantasies." She informed him sternly. "That particular view is for my eyes only." She warned.

Jaime found Brienne's indignation adorable. He rose and took her chin his hand. "I would not dream of upsetting the bride on her wedding day." He kissed the furrow between her brows. "Nor would I deny her the sole appreciation of my glorious anatomy." His wide grin gleamed mischievously, before he curved his way around her and left their bed, on his way to clothe himself. Prancing in feigned conceit made his gait far too leisurely to escape the sharp slap Brienne administered to that naked arse before he was out of her reach. He answered her punishment with an exaggerated yelp, before they both dissolved in laughter.

After a few moments Jaime returned to find Brienne now leaning back upon the cushions of their bed, Galladon nestled snuggly in her arms. So taken with the sweet vision before him was Jaime that for a moment he was rendered unable to move. He was not even sure if breath found his lungs. Jaime's heart and soul rejoiced in the notion, yet at the same time his mind could scarce believe, that in but a few hours the woman he loved more than his own existence would his wife. He was certain there could not be a happier man anywhere in the known world. He practically sprinted to them. With a kiss and a tousle of soft hair he greeted his boy, a proud fatherly smile resting over the child. He then brought his eyes to focus upon the babe's mother.

"The next time I see you, you will be on your father's arm, walking down the aisle to me." Jaime pictured, raising Brienne's fingers to his lips. She lifted her eyes innocently to regard him.

"I shall count the hours, My Sweetling." She promised softly. He left her with a gentle and tender kiss to seal the bond that would sustain them while they were parted.

Almost sullenly, Jaime walked to the door of their chambers and greeted the smiling faces of Queen Sansa, Arya, and Gilly. "Ladies." He acknowledged with a gallant bow. "She is all yours." Jaime waved his hand in Brienne's direction and enjoyed one final glimpse of his bride.

The wedding party smiled and nodded to Jaime as they shuffled inside carrying trays of sweets, stacks of linens, and ornate boxes that held any number of unknown fascinations. The women were laughing, and joking, and enjoying themselves immensely. "Brienne!" Sansa cried upon seeing her friend across the room. "Have we got a day planned for you." She declared happily.

Though she tried to smile and join into the revelries, Jaime noticed that Brienne's face registered what he could only classify as abject fear at what might be in store for her. He smirked and chucked to himself knowing that whatever the three ladies planned to subject her to would be lavish and luxurious and done out of love. No one deserved to be coddled and indulged more than she who would soon be his wife. Jaime also knew that Brienne would probably hate all of it. He smiled at her affectionately, longing and anticipation in his gaze, before turning and leaving her to the mercies of her caring attendants.

"Do you think she will like it?" Jaime asked pensively, stroking his chin, his stare fixed ahead a few paces on the object of his skepticism.

"The quality of the workmanship is quite remarkable." Tyrion replied, giving no answer to his brother's ponderance. His fingers absently mirroring Jaime's motion of uncertainty. Unaware, the men both tilted their heads in the same direction, studying the matter further.

"That is not what I asked." Jaime mumbled to Tyrion, who elaborated no further.

Tyrion squinted. "Well, she will, in truth, not be the one using it." He reminded Jaime with a shrug of his shoulders.

"Oh Brother." Jaime shook his head and lost himself in an image which floated before his eyes. "My lovely bride may not be the actual recipient of this tribute, but believe me, it is most definitely for her." Jaime sighed, his thoughts traveling to Brienne. Tyrion nodded, and grinned thoughtfully.

"She will love it." Lord Selwyn announced from Jaime's opposite side. The father of the bride gazed sentimentally at the prized item before them.

Jaime's expression then became worried once more. "I want it to be perfect, a wedding gift, if you will." He continued. "I do not wish there to be any confusion as to my meaning." He almost winced at the thought.

"I believe my daughter will indeed understand its purpose." The Evenstar tried to encourage his future son.

"It will not insult her?" Jaime wondered, hopefully.

Selwyn shook his head decidedly. "Of course not." He assured. Brienne will be pleased and flattered." He affirmed. "I dare say, the tribute will bring tears to her eyes." He predicted.

Jaime tried to smile, imagining Briene's reaction. "I hope you are correct in your conclusion." He told Lord Selwyn, his brow furrowing.

Jaime, Tyrion, and Lord Selwyn had gathered in what was to become the new solar of the Lord Commander of Evenfall's guard. The chamber, located at the top of the castle's guardhouse, was sturdy and fit for its service. The room provided an unhindered vantage of the fortress as well as it's surrounding lands and sea on all sides. Although Jaime was more than satisfied by the strategical adequacy of the solar, he doubted he would spend much time there. He already knew that his duty would be best served at Brienne's side. Wanting everything to be perfect for her, it was Brienne's possible reaction that puzzled him the most as he, Tyrion, and Lord Selwyn examined the new suit of armor which Jaime had commissioned in honor of his bride.

"She will not think that I have destroyed her family crest?" Jaime feared. As if the Gods themselves were accentuating his gesture, a bright ray of sunshine glinted off the breastplate of the magnificent golden covered steel. Emblazoned over the place where his heart would beat, were the celestial bodies which Brienne's own ancestors had chosen to symbolize the strength and honor they valued. 'Did they know that Brienne would someday be the very embodiment of those qualities?' Jaime thought proudly to himself.

To the ancient seal, striking the quartered field of heavenly suns and moons, had been added the fierce lion of House Lannister, flourishing in all its glory. The lion stood pledging its protection to the House of Tarth, as Jaime had done for Brienne. He had once determined to give his life to keep her safe, and would do so again. He would wear that pledge as a badge of honor, the integrity he once sought so desperately he had found in a new life with the woman his heart had clung to like life itself. He prayed Brienne would accept the gift of his heart, the way she had once done the glorious sword that hung at her side, Oathkeeper. It was a new oath that would be avowed this day. Jaime swore his fealty to House Tarth and to She who would one day be its Evenstar, his love, his life, his wife, Brienne.

Lord Selwyn grasped the man who would within a few hours become his daughter's husband. "The proud flag of the sun will always fly over the isle of Tarth." He assured Jaime. "This is a new Sigil, for your family, and the bond you celebrate today, with my daughter." He smiled whimsically. "Trust me, My Boy." Selwyn smiled. "She will be speechless with joy." He promised.

"I agree with Lord Selwyn's appraisal." Tyrion declared at last, with an approving nod. "And what of your other..,surprises?" He asked, surveying the room and noting the absence of the rest of Jaime's plan.

Jaime chest rose and fell with a relieved breath. "The tailor has assured me they shall be delivered here at any moment." His eyes twinkled merrily under the consenting gaze of Lord Selwyn.

Brienne stood scrutinizing herself in the long dressing mirror in her chamber. Unused to such finery as her wedding gown, she was uncertain whether to be pleased or petrified. The heirloom she wore had belonged to her mother. It's subtle blue wrapped her body as if the woman she had never known were embracing her. The thought comforted her, as she smoothed the fabric over her rounded waistline, and glanced lovingly at Galladon in Gilly's arms only paces away. Brienne wondered what her mother would think of her on this day.

"Brienne. You are a vision." Sansa declared as she tucked a few wildflowers from the meadows of Tarth into the bride's hair. "Surely, Ser Jaime will believe an angel from The Heavens themselves walks to meet him today." She smiled.

Brienne studied herself, again unsure. Her face frowned once more as she turned back to her reflection. "I hope you are correct." She replied, and tried to smile, though she felt completely out of place in the delicate gown.

It was Gilly who chuckled mischievously and broke the mood, as she lifted Galladon onto her shoulder. "Queen Sansa is right, My Lady. You are the perfect bride." She complimented. "Besides we should not be sullen on such a grand day." She smiled. "This day is for celebrating. We should be giddy and giggly and telling the most delicious secrets." She blushed.

"I agree." Arya laughed bawdily from her seat upon the freshly made bed. "Such as if Ser Jaime is as good in bed as he is with a sword." Her eyes flashed with playfulness. Brienne's own gaze widened in shock.

Sansa laughed heartily and joined the jest. "Apparently!" She grinned, patting the bulge of Brienne's belly softly. The women dissolved in laughter, the bride's self consciousness forgotten.

As the bridal party continued to prepare Brienne for the ceremony to come, Sansa strode to the table near the hearth and retrieved a gleaming tray of confections with which to tempt the ladies. Despite her attempt to remain demure and ladylike, Brienne's pregnant cravings got the better of her and she chose a large fruity custard tart with which to satisfy her sweet tooth. Her face was almost apologetic. "Your Grace. Please do not wait upon me." She begged. "It is improper." Brienne's face looked almost pained at the fuss being made around her.

"Nonsense." Sansa spoke as she savored a bite of lemon cake. "I am your Maid of Honor, and I am thoroughly enjoying seeing to your needs." She grinned. It is my pleasure. Brienne blushed as she nodded her understanding.

Sansa's eyes grew happily distant as she thought of the proposal which she had accepted only a few hours before. "Besides," she began, unable to wait any longer. "Perhaps you can attend me at my wedding." She nearly shivered with joy.

Brienne gasped as a wide hopeful smile washed over her face. "Your Grace? You and Lord Tyrion?" She questioned delighted, already certain of the object of Sansa's affections.

A suddenly bashful pink painted Sansa's cheeks. She lowered her eyes coyly. With a nod Sansa affirmed the group's speculation. "Tyrion said we should wait to tell anyone, but I never could keep a secret." Sansa shrugged.

Before anyone could congratulate the newly betrothed Queen, her eyes teared in horror at her potential mistake. "Oh Brienne, please tell me I have not intruded upon your day with my news. I truly wanted all the attention to be upon you. Forgive me." She pleaded.

Brienne's joyful smile lit the room. "Of course you have not intruded." She assured Sansa. You are going to marry Jaime's brother. That makes our day all the more special." She beamed.

The Queen grasped Brienne's hands and nearly trembled with excitement. "We shall be like sisters." Sansa almost squealed, and wrapped Brienne in a warm embrace. The bride happily accepted the notion and returned Sansa's sentiment wholeheartedly.

After celebrating her happy news, Sansa looked wickedly at Arya. "And what of my blood sister?" She brought the conversation around to the recently returned world traveler, who sat uncharacteristically quiet. "I saw you and Lord Gendry lingering after the festivities of last evening had concluded." She smirked. "In whose bedchamber did your night end?" She chuckled.

Arya blushed, though her eyes twinkled. "Well, my dearest sister." She began her tone mockingly sweet. "Unlike you, I can hold joyous news to myself." She replied smugly.

"Joyous news?" Brienne asked, her interest peaked.

"Yes." Arya smiled at Brienne. "Gendry and I had also hoped that our announcement might wait until after the celebration of your wedding." Her eyes studied the floor in distant bliss. "I also highly doubt that the intimate details of my courtship would be of interest to anyone." She stalled, rolling her eyes.

Brienne waved off the idea. "Oh, forget that. We are all noblewomen." She asserted, as she took Galladon upon her hip and rushed to perch next to Arya on the side of the mattress. "Please, tell us." She bid in anticipation.

"Yes, please." Gilly prodded, enjoying the comradery. She was happy that, although raised as a Wildling in the North, her marriage to the heir of House Tarly had made her part of such a strong group of women.

"Well." Arya paused, tweaking Galladon's cheek and coaxing a giggle from the babe. "Gendry and I did tarry long after Lord Selwyn's feast was concluded." She confirmed. "However, we did not then make haste to a bed chamber." She scoffed at Sansa, ignoring the instinct to stick out her tongue in her sister's direction. Such a gesture would not fit her new station well. "We found our way there much later." She clarified, embarrassed.

"Really?" Gilly exclaimed, unable to resist living vicariously through the three ladies with which she now enjoying company.

Arya nodded. "Yes. We stood before the Septon in the garden, and spoke the wedding vows to each other, before we consummated our marriage." She told the women seriously, her heart wanting to burst with happiness.

The silence could have been cut with a blade, as the others stared at Arya. Sansa voice was almost hurt as she spoke. "Why did you not tell me?" She breathed, nearly in tears. "I would have stood with you." She said regretfully.

Normally, Arya would have met Sansa's protests with joking arrogance. However, that reaction was soon silenced by the pained looked in Sansa's eyes. She stood and took her sister's hand. "Please don't be sad." She begged. "Not on this happy day." Arya said thoughtfully.

Arya turned and grasped Brienne's fingers. "We did not wish for our joining to impose upon your vows with Ser Jaime." She found no disappointment or insult in Brienne's elated smile.

"You need not have worried." Brienne told her. "We would gladly share such wonderful news." She embraced Arya lovingly.

"Thank you." Arya nodded, and faced Sansa once more her apology weighing upon her tongue. "We wished the moment to be only ours, before the Gods and the Septon." She explained. "For so long we survived on our wits, just the two of us, then we were parted." Her voice choked with emotion as she continued. "When we found each other again at Winterfell, I thought I wanted adventure. I did not realize the greatest adventure would be a life with him." She smiled, thinking of her new husband. "I hope you can be happy for us, Sansa." She said plaintively.

Sansa thought for a moment, feeling her disappointment and anger lift in the face of Arya's joy. "Well, you always did do everything on your own terms." She laughed. "Why should this be any different." Sansa sighed. "Be aware, though, that I expect you to stand with me at my wedding." She warned in jest.

"I would not miss it." Arya agreed.

Sansa embraced her tightly. "My little sister is a wife." She declared proudly. "You are Lady Baratheon, Mistress of Storm's End." She said in awe.

Arya joined Sansa in a broad smile, and laughed at how quickly her life had changed. "Yes, I suppose I am." She nodded. "But, I shall always be Arya Stark." She proclaimed.

"Well then, might I suggest a toast." Gilly offered from across the room. She gathered a flagon of wine, and handed golden goblets to each lady. Sansa's and Arya's cups she filled to the brim with a rich Dornish vintage, and topped her own with the same. For Brienne, and the babe she carried, Gilly brought a chalice of fresh spiced juices. Brienne nodded in humble gratitude as she accepted the drink.

"To the brides." Gilly proclaimed, raising her glass, her words echoed by all as they drank to each other. "And most especially on this day, to Lady Brienne." She announced in tribute. "May your life with Ser Jaime be long, and happy, and filled with the Gods' own blessings." She wished. "And may he find you always as mesmerizing as the moment he first fell in love with you." She saluted Brienne's glow with her goblet, as Sansa and Arya lifted their cups to the soon to be Lady Lannister.

Brienne sat trembling beside her father upon the seat of a fine gilded carriage, pulled by six white horses. The richly appointed conveyance had been built and furnished solely for the purpose of shepherding Brienne along the path from Evenfall to the beachhead, and to Jaime, her groom. Lord Selwyn would not hear of his precious daughter tiring her feet walking such a distance to the site which had been chosen for her wedding, especially since she was carrying his second grandchild. Galladon, cradled in his mother's arms busied himself tasting the lace of her gown, almost oblivious to the monumental significance of the event before them. Ahead, Brienne's bridesmaids Arya, Gilly, and The Queen of the North herself rode in a carriage of their own. The women's giggles and laughter rang like silver bells around the little traveling party and gave the proper joyous air to the day. The Evenstar clutched his daughter's hand to his heart and gazed at her proudly.

"Are you ready, My Dear?" Selwyn smiled warmly at Brienne, believing her quivering was caused by a bout of bridal nerves.

With a soft kiss upon her father's cheek, Brienne returned his caring. "Yes, Father." She sighed, happy tears playing in her eyes. "I am more than ready." Brienne answered whimsically, her thoughts already on Jaime.

She filled her lungs with the sweet salt air, laid her head on his shoulder, and held her child lovingly against her. The babe in her womb, the boy who was destined to be King, fluttered to announce his presence at the uniting of his parents in marriage. Brienne smiled and caressed her belly through her mother's treasured gown, settling peacefully next to Lord Selwyn. The truth was that her agitation had not at all been caused by apprehension. The reason Brienne's heartbeat raced in her ears, and her breath shallowed in her throat was due much more to elation rather than tension. She could not remember when such excitement coarsed through her veins as it did this day when she was about to marry the man she loved, the father of her children.

It was becoming increasingly more difficult with each passing day for Brienne to imagine a time before she had loved Jaime. She did not mind. It was unconscionable to her now that she had ever doubted his love for her. It seemed almost as though every force which had conspired to keep them apart and destroy the love they could not confess had faded. All of those moments of unrequited longing, the times they were forced apart, and how they had hidden their true feelings behind thick curtains of insults and sarcasm were becoming distant memories as far from them now as they had once been from each other. Yet, Brienne did not wish to forget their troubled past completely. She never wanted to take for granted either Jaime, or what they had suffered. It had brought them here. It had given them their son and the babe in her womb. Those experiences had bound them inextricably together, forever.

Brienne's heart still turned to stone at the memory that not long before she thought him lost to her, dead and gone. Even now, when she recalled Jaime's return from the dead the blessed relief which washed over her halted Brienne in her steps, and sent prayers of thanksgiving pouring from her soul. Sweet unabashed joy radiated from her to think that their love was alive and they had been reunited, this time never to be parted. Brienne moved her hand aside to finger Oathkeeper's ornate golden hilt. Her powerful sword, once the only declaration Jaime could give her, was a testament at her side. She and Jaime triumphed over the adversity that had conspired to keep them from each other. Brienne was happier than she had ever been. It was their love that was victorious over all, and today they would be joined as man and wife.

The sun was just setting beyond the mountains of the Stormlands visible in the distance over the waves of Shipbreaker Bay, when at last the bridal procession reached the white sanded grotto that was to provide the setting for joining the two lovers. The fading rays of light shadowed the beach in a soft glow, and painted the sky the same blue and scarlet hues as the Sigil of the isle over which it watched. As if giving their own blessings, for a moment, the sun and slivered moon shared the same field of sky as they did on the symbol of House Tarth. A good omen, it was decided.

Sansa, having disembarked her carriage a few moment before, waited on Brienne as she alighted on Lord Selwyn's arm. The beaming maid of honor relieved Brienne of the excited babe in her grasp as Arya and Gilly scurried to straighten her gown, and furl the proud ancestral cloak of House Tarth behind her. Brienne tried her best for a glimpse of Jaime at the end of the aisle, but could not detect him through the silken panels which had been hung along the path she would walk with her father. Nor could she see him over the heads of the crowd gathered to celebrate their nuptials. A disappointed sigh escaped her throat, though her eyes darted excitedly.

"Patience, Daughter." The Evenstar smiled adoringly at her, patting her hand with empathetic understanding. "You shall see him soon." He assured her. "I can dare say that he awaits you with as much eager anticipation." He guaranteed, placing a kiss upon Brienne's cheek. With a nod, Lord Selwyn sent his man servant to inform the Septon that the bride was ready.

As the final rays of the sun faded behind the distant peaks of the mainland, and the last of the torches that were to illuminate their path lit. The processional slowly began to make its way toward the water's edge. The trail along which they stepped had been laid with a thick woven carpet. The light blue damask tapestry was emblazoned with golden suns, moons, and lions. A tribute to both houses. The symbolic marriage of the two Sigils brought a happy tear to Brienne's eye as she was escorted over the mythical scenes. In a solemn moment she realized that hers was not the only trembling which threatened their gate. Brienne studied her father with the caring eye only a daughter possesses and saw how he steadied himself against the weeping at which he gulped, nearly too overcome to gaze at her. As Arya, Gilly with little Galladon in her arms, and Sansa began the march which would lead Brienne down the aisle Selwyn Tarth drew in a deep breath and swallowed hard at the emotions a Lord should not express. Proudly, he guided Brienne toward the man who was to be her Lord Husband.

At the far end of the long pathway, framed by his red Lannister cloak, Jaime strained his neck and struggled for any glimpse of Brienne that would settle his nerves. "Where is she?" He whispered to Tyrion who stood dutifully at his side. "I cannot see her." For a frantic instant, he feared she may have reconsidered her acceptance of his marriage proposal.

"Patience, Brother." Tyrion chided, himself desperate for the sight of Sansa. "Lady Brienne will be within your grasp in but moments." Tyrion assured Jaime to calm his nerves.

A low breathy gasp was Jaime's only reply when at last the vision of his bride greeted his eyes. Brienne stepped with her father from behind a long flowing drape of azure silk. Amidst the lace and light color of her mother's wedding gown, she glowed in the pale candescence which shimmered around her. Strapped to her side below her broadening belly, Oathkeeper seemed to pulse with its own energy, searching for its mate as Brienne's heart did for Jaime. Each step Brienne took was so painfully slow as she made her way toward him that he felt he might die of suffocation, forgetting to even breath, he was so transfixed by the vision of her. His heart pounded in his ears. Jaime had the notion that he was floating, and that Brienne was an angel sent to spirit him away from the bitter memories of his existence to a new world and a new life. He knew, better than anyone, that was exactly what was occurring.

Brienne centered herself, taking a long slow breath. The last of the silken panels that lined her path waved delicately in the warm ocean breeze. Ahead of her, Sansa peeked around the edges of the banners, appearing to search for something herself, or someone. Before her, Arya and Gilly had already turned for the last of their short but seemingly endless journey. Galladon's loud giggle sounded above the low murmur of the crowd. Brienne smiled to herself. 'He must have spied his father,' she thought. He was near, She felt herself relax at the thought. Oddly, Brienne was certain she should have been far more nervous at the prospect of everyone turning to watch her. As it were, a strange relaxation settled upon her. Even her muscles sensed Jaime near. Soon she would see him, soon the halves of the one soul they shared would be joined.

Although the sky was darkening, Brienne felt as though she were stepping into sunlight. She turned onto the wide main aisle, leaving the tunnel created by the lush draperies behind, Lord Selwyn walking proudly by her side. The onlookers standing in the sand on either side of the pathway hushed in admiration of the bride. She was a vision. Brienne's breath stilled in her chest, and a glistening tears found her eyes as at last she caught sight of Jaime. In golden armor, standing at the end of the aisle, as though he had been waiting for her a hundred years, he seemed as brilliant and intense as if all the stars in the heavens were shining upon him. The faces of the guests who watched faded into a blur. All Brienne saw was Jaime, and all she knew was her love for him.

She wanted to run to him. The slow respectful pace at which the line neared the Septon's alter was agonizing. Brienne ached to reach Jaime. Her focus became sharper as she drew nearer to him. From the expression upon Jaime's face, his suffering of her absence rivaled that which plagued her. Brienne saw his smile brighten widely as Galladon passed him in Gilly's embrace. She felt their unborn babe stir within her, as if he too felt his father's presence. Within a few slight paces from him, Brienne saw it. There, chiseled over his heart, hewn into the gold itself, the suns and moon of Brienne's own house were sculpted deep into the breastplate of his shining new armor. The Sigil of Tarth was guarded by the lion of his own heritage, tall and proud, fierce and brave.

Overcome, Brienne froze, staring in awed shock. Jaime's eyes widened, unsure if he had made a dreadful blunder in altering her ancient crest. He stood, transfixed by her radiance, yet terrified of her disapproval. Finally, adoring tears shimmered within the reflections of torch fire which danced in her eyes. Her sweet smile, and loving gaze told him there had been no error in judgment on his part. It was clear that Brienne cherished his gift. Timidly, like a bashful boy, Jaime stepped forward to meet his bride.

Stoically, the Septon cleared his throat and raised his hand to signal the beginning of the ceremony. He opened his holy text, and began to recite a prayer of greeting from the ancient words. All in attendance lowered their heads in reverence. Brienne and Jaime stood only inches apart, longing to be in each other's grasp. Both losing their respective battles to lower their eyes respectfully. Their gaze seemed more sacred than even the invocation to the Gods being said over them.

Once the consecration of the marriage had been said, the man who seemed even more advanced in years than The Evenstar himself looked directly at the Lord of House Tarth. Lord Selwyn nodded in answer to a silent question. The Septon dipped his thoughtful brow in understanding, and motioned for the man to give his only daughter over to the man who loved her as much as he did.

Lord Selwyn turned first to Brienne. He peered at her as if through the years, seeing the girl she had been and honoring the woman she had become. Tenderly, he bent and placed a loving kiss on her cheek. Brienne smiled at her father with a gratitude she could not find words to voice. There was no need. He grasped her fingers and held them reassuringly. Then, straightening to his full posture, Lord Selwyn reached and took Jaime's hand. Without hesitation, he pressed Brienne's palm into Jaime's.

"Take care of her." The Evenstar charged the Lion.

Jaime voice fought the lump in his throat. "With my life." He swore. Selwyn nodded, understanding that Jaime had already done so and would, without hesitation, give all again to keep Brienne protected.

Satisfied, and content in the man to whom he entrusted his precious daughter, Lord Selwyn stepped a bit sideways to Gilly and retrieved his delighted grandson from her arms. The pair quietly joined those in attendance. Brienne and Jaime stood breathless, facing the Septon, awaiting his blessing upon their marriage. The officiant's face was calm and almost joyful as he began, setting his eyes upon Jaime in sacred command.

"You may now cloak the bride and bring her under your protection." The holy man charged, his expression one of anticipation.

A sly, yet hopeful smile crossed Jaime's face as he regarded Brienne. Stepping back from her, his eyes asked her for understanding, and he grasped her hand tightly. Breaking with tradition, Jaime addressed the audience. "My Lords." His voice rose proudly above the crowd. "My Ladies." He added, as Brienne stared at him in wide-eyed confusion. "I must request you to bare with me but a moment. I must also ask for the indulgence of my lovely bride." His chest rose and fell in nervousness though he gave his betrothed a calming look, and signaled two pages with a snap of his fingers. The youths rushed quickly from the proceedings, en route to some predetermined destination. Lord Selwyn and Tyrion traded a knowing glance with half veiled smiles, already aware of the nature of Jaime's surprise.

As if on cue, Lord Selwyn nodded to Jaime and smiled. The Evenstar bowed to King Bran who sat only a few paces away. "Your Grace." He said reverently, and then turned to face the audience. "Honored Guests." Lord Selwyn spoke humbly to the crowd. "As we ourselves are building a new Westeros, the groom has asked to begin his own tradition, with my daughter, as they create a new house." He stood proudly and regarded the happy couple, relinquishing the floor once more to Jaime.

The span of time seemed an eternity as he studied Brienne apprehensively, hoping the symbol of love he had commissioned had not been a misguided notion. It pained him to see the uncertainty upon her face. It was almost fear with which she studied him, unsure why he had paused their wedding. He tried to assuage her worry by clasping her hand even more tightly into his. In truth, the pair of hurrying pages took only moments to return and stand at the ready beside the groom. In their arms each carried, yards of crisp folded silk, the colors of both House Tarth and House Lannister.

"I pray that Lady Brienne will forgive this interruption, and my eagerness," Jaime gazed affectionately at her. She calmed to a nervous smile, as he continued. "As custom holds, now is the time for me to wrap the bride in the colors of my house, a symbolic gesture of my oath to watch over her." Jaime acknowledged, almost chuckling at the absurdity of the notion. He drew Brienne to him and spoke to her as if they were only two people in the world.

"Dearest." Jaime's voice faltered with emotion. "You need no one to protect you." He smiled in awe. "Even so, as Lord Commander of the Evenfall guard, I pledge my life, limb, and loyalty to your safety." He vowed. "I felt it only right that our union be celebrated with a more fitting symbol of my pledge to always cherish and protect you." Brienne drew in a sharp breath, holding it for a moment to stave the happy tears which threatened to burst forth with every word.

"Your house is as old and as proud as mine." Jaime proclaimed. "Its history and its future deserves to be displayed triumphantly for all the world to see." He squared his shoulders and raised his chin in acknowledgment. "For myself, I ask only you and the honor of standing guard over you for the rest of my life." His voice ebbed with raw emotion.

"My Love." Jaime spoke in awe to Brienne. "Would you please accept this token of my promise to you, and to our children?" Jaime begged, as he reached for one of the folded yards of fabric and unfurled it for her inspection. For Brienne's approval cascaded a fine ornate cloak of the most brilliant sapphire blue. The lining was a bright crimson red, which honored Jaime's house, but was emblazoned with a pattern of suns and moons among its posturing lions. As Jaime whirled the garment around, Brienne beheld the figures stitched upon the front, the side the world would view. The quartered field of her own Sigil filled the length and breadth of the cloak, the suns and moons stitched in golden threads upon the corners of the ancient blue and red. It seemed the evening sky itself shone from the honored emblems of House Tarth. Before the symbols of Evenfall, pledging its protection, a guardian warned those who would pose threat. The imposing lion of House Lannister stood tall and glorious, ever watchful of the House of Tarth. The design matched that which had been wrought upon Jaime's new armor. Overcome by her love for him, and unable to speak, Brienne simply bowed her head in acceptance of Jaime's gift, her eyes brimming with adoration and happy tears.

Jaime's trembling fingers gently removed the ancestral cloak that Brienne wore. He folded it respectfully and handed it to Sansa, whose beaming smile caught Tyrion over Jaime's shoulder. Sansa saw that Tyrion's gaze was fixed unmovingly upon her. She blushed and quickly returned her attentions to the ceremony, a wistful smile still playing at the corners of her mouth.

Carefully, Jaime took one of the new cloaks and draped it over Brienne's shoulders. It formed around her, as if his own arms held her secure. He then removed his own red cloak the colors of House Lannister giving it over to Tyrion, the new Lord of Casterly Rock. Taking the second garment from the other young page, Jaime fastened it around his own neck. He stood facing Brienne, proud and magnificent. "As I told you when I gave you that powerful sword at your side, " He glanced at Oathkeeper and smiled at the memory. "My heart is yours. It has always been yours." His eyes blazed adoringly with memomories. "It will always be yours." He swore.

Brienne swallowed hard at the lump in her throat, her lip quivering with tearful joy. The entire world swirled blissfully around her. The light of an eternity of suns and moons paled in comparison to Jaime's smile when he held her in his gaze. Never had she known such happiness.

Urgently she caught his fingers as they trailed from her neckline. "We shall protect each other." She told him. "As we always have." She smiled. He returned her promising gaze, each understanding all they had defeated to stand together in that moment, pledging their lives.

Earnestly, Jaime addressed The Evenstar. "My Lord. The flag of House Tarth will forever fly proudly over Evenfall." He declared. "My wife and I, our children, our family shall don these cloaks so that all shall know that the lion now guards the heavens. My very life was once given in your daughter's honor, and now it belongs to her." He promised. The old man nodded back to him, approvingly.

Finally, to the waiting Septon, Jaime nodded. "Your Holiness, would you please continue?" He bid.

The Septon smiled warmly. "It would be my pleasure, Ser." He answered.

The officiate cleared his throat and looked out over the crowd. "My Lords, and Ladies, we stand here in the sight of Gods and men to witness the union of man and wife. One flesh, one heart, one soul, now and forever." The Septon announced. Jaime stole an ardent glance at Brienne. A sweet blush painted her face as she sighed lovingly.

A slight nod from the Septon to Jaime signaled him to reach for Brienne. He held out his hand to her, palm up. Only she could perceive how his muscles quaked with excitement. Softly, gently, Brienne rested her fingers atop Jaime's. His curled between hers, grasping her fist as if he feared she might fly away from him. The adoring gaze in which Brienne held Jaime should have told him that even had she wings to do so, they would have been torn from her back by her own hand to stay with him. She tightened her own hold reassuringly upon him in response to his doubt.

Across the Holy Book held within the Septon's grasp was laid a wide ancient length of fabric. The ribbon which had bound Brienne's parent's hand in marriage, and those of her ancestors. It still glistened a soft glowing blue in the evening light. Depositing the scripture book almost unseen in the pocket of his robes, the Septon bent to wrap the ribbons around Brienne and Jaime's joined hands.

"Let it be known that Ser Brienne of House Tarth and Ser Jaime of House Lannister are one heart, one flesh, one soul. Cursed be he who would seek to tear them asunder." The Septon declared to all. Wide smiles beamed from their faces as Jaime and Brienne stared at each other.

"In the sight of The Seven, I hereby seal these two souls, binding them as one for eternity." The Septon announced as he unraveled the marriage ribbon, leaving bride and groom clinging to each other, their hearts and hands clasped together, forever.

"Look upon each other and say the words." The Septon commanded Brienne and Jaime proudly, caught in the joy of their moment.

Jaime turned as breathlessly to Brienne as she did to him. Although their voices were choked with emotion, those in attendance later swore they had never heard the marriage vows spoken with such clarity and determination, or with such devotion. The bride and groom, however, were aware only of each other and their hearts which overflowed with love. Their gazes were fixed deep within the other's eyes as they spoke.

"Father, Smith, Warrior, Mother, Maiden, Crone." Brienne and Jaime invoked in unison.

"I am hers and she is mine." Jaime swore, almost daring the Gods themselves to disagree.

"I am his and he is mine." Brienne swore to the world, and to the Heavens at the same time.

"From this day, until the end of my days." They finished as one.

At last, drawing Brienne gently to him, Jaime wrapped her in his embrace. "With this kiss I pledge my love." He vowed, before placing his lips softly to hers, and losing himself in the warm sweetness of her mouth.

Brienne found her abilities failing her as she turned to liquid in Jaime's hands, the same way she had the very first time they declared their love to each other. His kiss upon her lips warmed and thrilled her, and deepened as Jaime forgot their audience, and cared only about her. Brienne was eager to accompany him on that fantasy. Her heart swelled to think that she would never have to watch him go from her again. She was now his wife, and their lives were bound together. An entire lifetime together lay ahead of them. The babe within her reacted to the rush of blood through her veins, reminding his mother of his presence with a quick twisting in her belly. The child held in her father's arms serenaded his now wedded parents with a chorus of delighted giggles.

Jaime heard Galladon's laughter, and surfaced breathless from his enjoyment of his new wife. He and Brienne clung to each other in elated merriment as they turned toward the guests who had witnessed their vows. A joyous cheer erupted from the crowd in celebration of the happy couple. Lord Selwyn strode to his daughter and her husband. He handed Galladon over to their care, and regarded the little family with pride.

"My Lords and Ladies." The Evenstar interjected loudly. "May I present, The Lannisters of Tarth." He declared. His applause could be heard over all.

The feast which celebrated Jaime and Brienne's wedding was the grandest anyone could recall. No expense had been spared, and no spectacle considered too elaborate for the celebration. Lord Selwyn determined that nothing was too fine for his daughter and her family. Lord Tyrion, not to be outdone, contributed his expertise to the planning. What resulted was a lavish and extravagant display which would have made a king blush.

The beach beneath the walls of Evenfall Hall had been transformed into a wonderland of sites, sounds, and tastes. Torches lined the sands and turned the night to day, illuminating the banners of both House Tarth and House Lannister, as well as those stitched with the new Sigil of Jaime's design. Wooden planks were set upon the sand creating a dance floor as expansive as the Great Hall itself. Long banquet tables were set heavy with roasted pigs, candies fruits, pastries, and delicacies from the land and sea. Long garlands of silk and flowers waved in the warm ocean breezes. Acrobats from foreign lands and points unknown thrilled the crowd throughout the festivities. Lean muscled men performed fetes of strength and flexibility, while exotic ladies danced behind flowing scarves. Performers hung from long yards of silk strung a hundred feet over the beach, their bodies tangled in an exquisite and death defying display. Magicians delighted the crowd with spectacular illusions, while minstrels strolled to rhythms that rivaled the music of the surf.

Ever the vigilant and doting grandfather, Lord Selwyn ordered a small corral built to the side of the reception area. The little pen bustled with rabbits, puppies, kittens, lambs, and ducklings. The menagerie provided hours of enjoyment for Galladon, the Tarly children, and the other youngsters brought to the wedding by their parents. Their precious delighted squeals could be heard up and down the sands.

A large plush chaise, nearly as big as a bed was piled with pillows and set under curtains of wildflowers for the expectant bride to rest upon, should she grow wary. Brienne found it unnecessary, however Jaime insisted that his new wife and mother of his children, one yet unborn, rest as often as he deemed necessary. It was only the knowledge that her comfort eased Jaime's mind which kept the self-conscious blush from Brienne's cheeks as she greeted their guests from her plush divan. She did not, however, shy away from taking several long strolls through the crowd, or a few turns on the dance floor with her lord husband.

"I must say," Tyrion appeared at Jaime's elbow as he fetched a plate from the banquet table for Brienne. "This is by far the most festive wedding I have ever had the pleasure of attending." Tyrion congratulated, only partly fishing for compliments at his planning skill.

Jaime chuckled and rolled his eyes at the extravagance. "No thanks to you." He laughed, laying an exotic slice of yellow fruit among the samples he was preparing for his famished bride.

"What?" Tyrion pretended to be hurt. "No praise for my efforts." He said in feigned shock. "I believe Lord Selwyn and I have outdone ourselves." He smiled innocently.

"If you do say yourself." Jaime laughed even harder.

"Of course." Tyrion bowed.

Setting the fair he had gathered upon the table, Jaime looked at Tyrion with a grateful smile. "It is wonderful, truly." He acknowledged. "Everything, my lovely Brienne deserves." He agreed, his eyes straying across the crowded scene.

The men looked up to regard Brienne as she sat at the head of the bridal table, her arms filled with Galladon, her eyes adoringly following Jaime's every move. Tyrion grinned sweetly and waved at Sansa who had joined Brienne, and was intently studying her own betrothed. Jaime could barely contain his exuberance at the news Brienne had imparted to him a short while earlier.

"It seems congratulations are in order for you as well, Brother." Jaime conceded happily.

Tyrion looked up somewhat shocked, and then gave up any attempt at denial for the sake of the couple of honor. He sighed amusedly and smiled to himself and shaking his head in disbelief that he had not foreseen Sansa's eagerness to tell someone their news. He smiled even more lovingly at his Queen across the crowd.

"Sansa informed Brienne that there will soon be another Lannister wedding." Jaime explained.

Tyrion blushed, and shook his head with a low chuckle. "No one will ever accuse my darling Sansa of being able to keep a secret." He gave Jaime an apologetic sneer. "Forgive her." He asked as he nodded toward his lady love once more. "I am sure the excitement got the better of her." He beseeched Jaime.

Jaime waved off Tyrion's worry. "Nonsense." He assuaged. "There is nothing to forgive. Besides, I am quite certain it was my darling wife who pryed it out of her." He laughed, his own eyes glancing at Brienne with a smile and a bow of his head. In the distance, Brienne returned his enamored attentions with a beaming grin.

"We had meant to postpone our news until you and Brienne were wed." Tyrion acknowledged.

Without words, almost imperceptibly, Jaime's gaze questioned Brienne from a distance, asking her approval. She nodded, understanding his meaning, and wholeheartedly gave her consent. "Well then." Jaime clapped Tyrion on the back. "We are wed." He affirmed, happily.

Jaime quickly stopped a passing servant whose tray was laden with fine goblets of fine Dornish red wine. He scooped up a large ornate cup and handed it to Tyrion. Jaime then grabbed one for himself. "My Lord, My Ladies." He spoke up over the din of the celebrating crowd. "Your Grace." He bowed toward King Bran, who sat at Lord Selwyn's table, a knowing expression on his face. The Three-Eyed Raven nodded as though he was well aware of the news Jaime had to impart. "My friends." Jaime added as the revelers quieted for his address.

"May I ask a moment of your time." Jaime smiled. The guests stared amiably, hanging on his every word. "First, please join me in tribute to my beautiful bride." He bid adoringly, raising his goblet to Brienne. "She has made me the happiest man in all the world." He toasted. Brienne blushed, her lovely eyes holding him within her gaze. This time, no one hid their faces in laughter at Jaime's description of her. She was not the unfortunate victim on someone's cruel joke. Now, all agreed that she truly was worthy of the highest praise, and she truly felt beautiful.

"To Lady Brienne." The crowd agreed, joining Jaime in raising their goblets to her. Brienne accepted with warm appreciation. Lord Selwyn beamed with pride and winked at his daughter.

"If you will allow me a moment more," Jaime continued. "I have yet another joyous announcement." He grinned.

"We know." The voice of a very inebriated Lord Bronn called out from the back. "She carries another lion cub." He shouted.

Jaime laughed and watched Brienne lovingly caress her widened waistline. "Well, yes, that is news of the happiest sort." He agreed. "However, I do believe that is already quite obvious." Jaime replied. The guests laughed in concurrence.

"If The Queen in The North would join us." Jaime inquired hopefully, his tone holding a brotherly affection.

Sansa's eyes widened as she realized what was about to occur. Brienne nodded and cajoled her sweetly to comply. Within a few moments Sansa was making her way through the crowd, bashful that the interruption to the wedding feast was to center around her, but eager to reach Tyrion.

As Sansa neared, Jaime continued. "I have been informed that there will soon be another wedding." He said emphatically. Tyrion stretched out his hand and took Sansa's in his grasp. Together, they smiled at Jaime, and then turned to face the excited crowd. "Queen Sansa has accepted my brother's proposal of marriage." The crowd gasped at the happy news. "They will soon be joined as one, just as I and my beloved Brienne were this night." He declared, as his own bride strode to his side, Galladon perched upon her hip.

Turning to address Tyrion and Sansa, Jaime held them in his sentimental gaze, as his handless arm wrapped around Brienne. "I wish you both all the love and happiness that we have found." He said, raising his goblet. "And just as many children." He smirked, proudly. Brienne laughed and lifted the goblet of spiced juices she held.

"Would you please help us to congratulate the happy couple." Jaime charged the spectators. The guests shouted three cheers to the newly betrothed pair, and drank to their health and good fortune. Sansa and Tyrion beheld each other in the midst of the joyful well-wishes. Unable to help themselves, Sansa bent and felt herself carried away with love as Tyrion kissed her passionately. The crowd again roared its approval.

Following Jaime's divulgence of the happy news the guest returned to their celebrating, some congratulating both couples, some immersed in the new topic of conversation, but all clearly pleased. Jaime and Brienne, lingered with Tyrion and Sansa, ensuring the newly betrothed lovers that the announcement of their plans to wed only added to the special joy of the day.

"It seems that not only will I be losing my Lord Commander, and Master of War, but my Hand as well." A calm quiet voice spoke from behind the happy group.

The four turned to regard King Bran. He sat before them in his wheeled chair, Podrick Payne's wide beaming grin lightening the surprise as he stood behind the Three-Eyed Raven. The couples felt almost guilty as they acknowledged the King, but saw no evidence of insult upon his face. Nevertheless, both Tyrion and Jaime were quick to make amends for any possible offense. "Forgive me, Your Grace," Tyrion begged, his face dire. "I had hoped to speak to you in private about wedding your sister. Tyrion conceded. "I had hoped to seek your blessing, as King and as Sansa's brother." He bowed his head. Then lifting his eyes in veiled judgment to Jaime, he added. "My own brother's exuberance got the better of him, before I could bring to the matter to you." Tyrion stammered.

Jaime cleared his throat self-consciously. "Apologies, Your Grace." He interjected, flashing a regretful look at Tyrion. Brienne ran her hand up Jaime's arm, holding onto him supportively. "In my excitement, I forgot my proprieties." He confessed, though the light dancing in his eyes told that he clearly recalled the conversation he had enjoyed with Bran in the gardens. The joining of Tyrion and Sansa in marriage had all been foretold to him by King Bran himself.

Bran surveyed the group understandingly. "There is no need, Ser Jaime." He assured.

Sansa spoke up with an apprehensive expression. "Oh please, Brother." She looked mournfully at Bran. "Do not be angry." She pleaded as she wrapped her hand under Tyrion's arm. "It was not our intention to keep our betrothal from you." She smiled at those surrounding her. "It has not yet been a day since Lord Tyrion proposed, and we have all been been rather busy." She justified, bashfully glancing at Brienne and Jaime. "I pray you will bless our union. Please say that you will release Lord Tyrion from your service so that he may return to Winterfell as my Hand…" Sansa smiled hopefully at Bran, and then rested her gaze sweetly upon her betrothed. "and my husband." She beseeched.

Bran's face gave no clue to the thoughts in his mind as he looked intently at Sansa. "My dear sister." He replied when he finally spoke. "You seem to be under the impression that this news is a surprise to me." His answered, his face relaxing almost into a smile. "You forget who I am." His eyes washed over his small audience as he addressed Sansa. "Just as I have foreseen the life that Ser Jaime and Ser Brienne will share, I have always known it was Lord Tyrion for whom you were meant, and him for you." He acknowledged with a nod. Tyrion could feel Sansa nearly quiver with happiness next to him. He fought himself to remain calm as well.

Bran continued, his voice emotionless, as though he were merely quoting an entry in a history book. "I knew before the Small Council and I ever came to Tarth, that Lord Tyrion would not be accompanying us on our return." He assured. "Now that the Essosi threat has been defeated, and the Red Keep almost nearly rebuilt, my new Council is complete." He informed them. Tyrion, Sansa, Jaime, and Brienne eyed the King questioningly.

Bran's head pivoted, his eyes scanning the crowd until at last coming to rest upon Arya and Gendry, strolling along the shore in a world of their own. "Arya and Lord Gendry have already agreed to accept the positions left vacant by the departure of Sers Jaime and Brienne." He reported, his stare then found another young guest among the festivities. "Our cousin, Lord Robyn Arryn shall assumeLord Tyrion's duties as my Hand." He revealed.

Sansa raised her chin in approval. "Lord Arryn has become a very capable young man." She said, recalling the spoiled and malicious boy he had been when she had been hidden at The Eyrie by Littlefinger. Although she had seen during the last Dragon Pit summit how her cousin had matured into a poised young man, the memory that clouded her mind chilled Sansa, and she shivered in its wake. Tyrion noticed and drew closer to his lady love.

Bran gestured his affirmative. "Lord Robyn has very large shoes to fill, however he will make a good Hand." He said, acknowledging Tyrion's exemplary accomplishments during his tenure.

"My Dear Sister, Lord Tyrion." Bran almost smiled at Sansa, as if for only a moment becoming the boy he had once been. "Of course you have my blessing over your marriage." He affirmed. "Sansa, you have chosen well. There is none better in all of Westeros to whom I would see you wed." He complimented.

Sansa beamed in reponse and nestled closer to Tyrion. "Thank you Dear Brother." She answered excitedly.

"I am honored, Your Grace." Tyrion acknowledged with a bow, holding Sansa's hand tightly to him.

Bran nodded, and motioned for Podrick to wheel him on. "Now, if you will excuse me. I must congratulate my new Lord Commander and Master of War on their own private wedding." He informed them. Sansa hid her smirk at the subtle announcement of her sister's marriage.

As he backed King Bran away, Podrick turned and quickly gave the couples a smile. "Congratulations Your Grace, My Lord." He wished Tyrion and Sansa. "Ser Jaime, My Lady." He bid to his mentors, before whisking the King toward another conversation.

Jaime laughed and wrapped his arm around Brienne. He took a moment to stare deeply into her astonishing eyes, basking in his blessings, and then kissed her soundly. He slid his fingers over Galladon's hair, and brought them to rest upon the flourishing bulge of Brienne's belly. At the same time Tyrion followed his brother's lead, stretching upward to Sansa's waiting lips.

When the couples parted, Jaime retrieved and raised his goblet. With Brienne still in his grasp, he hoisted the cup high with a brilliant grin. "To the Lannister brothers, and the good fortune that has finally found us." He declared happily to Tyrion.

With one more taste of Sansa's lips, and a wide smile of his own, Tyrion lifted his own goblet in accord. "To that, my brother, I will most definitely drink!" He proclaimed before downing his wine in one swallow.

The revelry continued without sign of slowing. Upon the stroke of midnight, Lord Selwyn quieted the crowd. "My friends." He drew everyone's attention. "I have taken the liberty of preparing a few more festive curiosities to celebrate my daughter's marriage to Ser Jaime." He announced gleefully. "If you would all please follow me down to the surf." He motioned, and began to lead the way.

Jaime raised his brow in questioning humor to Brienne. She returned his suspicion with a wide-eyed shrug of her own. "It's best to humor him." She laughed and took the elbow Jaime presented. Together, they made their way slowly along the sand, Galladon dozing on Jaime's shoulder.

As the bride, groom, and spectators approached the water an even more confusing scene awaited them. At even intervals along the beach had been buried more than two dozen large hallow wooden tubes. From each protrusion trailed a long piece of untwisted rope. A number of exotic looking men in clothing which seemed more typical of foreign lands than of Westeros ran between the structures pouring in colored powders. Along with the minerals was also added a dark looking dust, the smoky burned odor of whatever it was drifted along the beach upon the sea breeze. Lord Selwyn seemed unconcerned, but stopped his progress a good distance from the arrangement.

Addressing the crowd again, The Evenstar added to the mystery. "My Lords and Ladies, it is my hope that you will enjoy this display from the farthest reaches of the known world." He told the eager audience. "Only the grandest and most wonderous marvel could ever adequately express the pride I feel in my darling daughter, or the joy she brings to this world with just her smile." He bowed to Brienne with fatherly affection.

"Here, here!" Jaime shouted his agreement.

With that, Lord Selwyn signaled to the waiting men to begin the show. One walked slowly to a small fire burning on the beach. He lit a torch from its flames and walked toward the first buried tube. Gently he touched the fire to the rope, and stood back as it trailed toward the contents inside. The wick burned quickly, and just as it disappeared over the wooden circular side into the tiny pit, a projectile exploded from the ground and shot far into the air. Against the deep dark sky a trail of light exploded in a brilliant cascade of sparking color. It burst across the night and bathed the landscape as well as the faces of the awestruck guests with soft blue light. As the starburst flared overhead, a loud crash resonated more powerfully than thunder and seemed to shake the very ground. At once, the crowd jumped in shock at the deafening sound. With the realization that all was well, the guests laughed and applauded as the next explosion shot into the sky and rained bright red over the sea.

Reflexively Jaime's hand moved to cover Galladon's tiny ear, trying to shield him from the noise, and comfort what was sure to be his terrified child. Brienne, as well, hovered over their babe worried anticipation wrinkling her brow. Mother and father were shocked more from their son's reaction than by the light and sound when Galladon lifted his eyes to the sky, and giggled hysterically at the show, his little gaze filled with wonder. Not a moment of fear could be seen in the boy's mesmerized expression. Brienne and Jaime shrugged to each other. Having witnessed such bravery in the face of danger from their child, each was certain that Galladon's unphased response was the result of having two knights for parents. Both soon relaxed against each other and settled in to enjoy the harmless fire in the sky.

One by one the explosions of color illuminated the darkness and fell softly to the waves below, extinguishing themselves before giving the water the victory. A loud wave of applause rose from the crowd. Lord Selwyn was congratulated on his inventiveness, and questioned as to how others could arrange such a show for their own celebrations. Brienne and Jaime concluded the presentation with a long slow kiss.

When the final magnificent burst had died, a throng of servants rushed to set small tables upon the sand. Others carried slips of parchment, larger paper bundles, and small pieces of wood. Still more brought ink wells, quills, and candles. Again, those in attendance looked to The Evenstar for guidance.

"My Dear Guests." Lord Selwyn announced. "Another custom from afar." He assured them, as the raw materials of the next amusement were laid upon the tables. "Please join me in setting quill to parchment, and pen a wish of the future for my daughter, Ser Jaime, and their family?" The Evenstar urged, his eyes shining so at Brienne that it seemed the stars which hung above were all reflected in their depth. Jaime noticed the same in Brienne's own brilliant blue gaze.

Lord Selwyn stepped up to one of the tables. He took a slip of paper and a quill. Trying desperately to hide his emotions, The Evenstar wrote a heartfelt line, which he did not share. He held the parchment close to his heart for a moment. Then, from the supplies he fashioned a small pouch with paper and wood, and laid his own wish inside the creation. Along a piece of the thin wood which held the paper open on one end he set a tiny candle, which he had lit from the lantern upon the table. Smiling at the image his mind saw in the hope for the blessings that lay ahead for the newly wedded couple, he again spoke to the crowd.

"According to an ancient belief from the farthest lands to the East, the words we pen shall rise to the Gods, and bring our wishes to their very eyes." He carefully released his fingers from the little paper lantern he had made, and watched it rise into the night sky, fueled by the hot air from the little candle. The small plain paper packet carried his hopes on the breeze.

The crowd gasped in delight and was soon sending their own wishes for Brienne and Jaime to the Heavens. Each carried aloft by the flickering of a thousand tiny flames. The bride and groom together, made their own wish for themselves and their children, and helped Galladon to send their lantern sailing away. The skies over the Sapphire Isle truly took on a celestial glow as it appeared the stars themselves had dipped to the ground to join the celebration. It was a wonderous site to behold. Those on the beach could not say how long they stood watching the bright points drift away and fade into the darkness.

As they stood on the beach watching the last of the lanterns disappear, Jaime felt Brienne stifle a yawn. She rested her body against him on tired legs. She laid her head against his and sighed. He held her tighter in response, Galladon already sleeping on his shoulder.

"Well." He whispered to her. "I believe the time has come for the Bedding Ceremony." Jaime told Brienne confidently.

The remark brought a full laugh from Brienne as she raised her head. "Bedding Ceremony?" She repeated, aghast. "I believe it is evident to all that I have been quite sufficiently bedded, My Love." She trailed her hand over her rounded abdomen and nodded at their sleeping babe to emphasize her point.

Jaime joined in her mirth. "Perhaps." He conceded. "Still, it appears to be high time I see my exhausted wife to our chambers." He offered, hopefully.

Brienne did not protest. "Yes." She nodded. "Perhaps that is a good idea." She agreed softly, fatigue already setting in. Jaime held Brienne close to him as they made their way through the mass of guests. They smiled and thanked those they passed until they found The Evenstar.

"My Lord." Jaime called, presenting his hand proudly to Brienne's father. "We cannot adequately convey our gratitude for all you have done." He proclaimed as Lord Selwyn took his outstretched hand. "This has truly been a day no dreaming could have imagined." He smiled.

"Not nearly what my daughter deserves." Lord Selwyn declared gazing adoringly at Brienne.

Jaime nodded in agreement. "The entire world would not be enough." He concurred.

Brienne parted from Jaime for a moment and embraced her father. "I could not have imagined such a wonderous celebration." She told him, her eyes filling with joyful tears. "Thank you, Father." She sighed sweetly.

Selwyn Tarth, for once, found his voice choked in his throat. Never had his happiness presented itself with such a threat to his stoic demeanor. He regarded Brienne, and found her blurred in his vision from the moisture in his own eyes. "Your happiness is all I wish for, My Dear." He replied. "It is the only thanks I need." Lord Selwyn brushed a soft kiss against Brienne's temple, held her in his loving stare for a moment and returned her to the waiting arms of her husband. He then addressed the guests to bid farewell to the newlyweds.

"My Friends." He announced. "Unfortunately, our festivities have outlasted even my daughter's stamina." He cast a loving look in Brienne's direction. "I'm am sure you will forgive that her energies are waning of late." He reported with a concerned air. Brienne blushed in response as Lord Selwyn continued. "Please join me in wishing the happy couple goodnight." He asked the crowd warmly.

Before the first hand could clap Tyrion with Sansa at his side spoke up, adding his thoughts to the sentiment. "Three cheers for the Lannisters of Tarth!" He shouted. The crowd followed his lead with raised goblets and a jovial round of hoorahs.

Jaime and Brienne met the well wishes with grateful smiles, and bid the onlookers goodnight. Climbing into the golden carriage that had brought her to him that day. Slowly, they rode through the sand returning to the walls of Evenfall, enjoying the last of the warm night air along the way. The merriment of their wedding celebration continued without them through the night, until dawn the next morning. Most of those who had been fortunate enough to attend would later attest that never had there been a greater spectacle in all of Westeros. As for the newly married knights, they found the greatest joy of the evening in the security of each other's arms, and the knowledge that they would never again be parted.

Neither Jaime nor Brienne could say how long the stroll to their bedchamber had taken. They were immersed in each other and the joy of their union. All Jaime wished was to lay Brienne into their bed, now as his wife, and make love to her until morning. However, he could see that in her delicate condition, she would most probably be sound asleep before he slipped from his armor. There would be plenty of opportunities to express his passions during the many years he envisioned before them. His concern, and caring for her were enough to hold his desire at bay until she was rested.

Once returned to the privacy of their refuge, the adoring parents laid little Galladon gently into his cradle. They nestled around their babe a tiny quilt to warm him as he slept. For a moment they stood holding to each other, watching their child's chest rise and fall with the deep sighs of dreaming. When he had satisfied himself that the babe was settled, Jaime kissed Brienne's temple and led her toward the bed. She stood waiting as he removed his prized armor, her eyes shining with love.

"So you approve of my new interpretation of our sigals?" Jaime inquired as he fastened the prized gold covered steel plates carefully upon a new armor stand which had appeared in their quarters.

Brienne sighed with wonder, and caressed Oathkeeper hanging at her side. "With the exception of your very heart," she began, smiling over her sword. "It is the most wonderful gift I have ever received." She praised.

Jaime crossed the room and loosened the scabbard buckled under her belly. "It depicts all that I swear to you." He touched her cheek, and kissed her softly.

"I know." She said with pride and certainty. "Now we will both wear a symbol of our love." She whispered as he took Oathkeeper from her and hung the magnificent blade on the post of their bed.

"And mine shall always be close to my heart." He asserted as he straightened.

"Shall I help you from your gown, My Wife?" He smiled.

Brienne returned his offer with a proactive gasp. "I would like nothing better, My Husband." She murmured suggestively, tracing the bones in his neck with her lips. She drove him wild with the want of her. Jaime was, however, determined to see her to her sleep in order to recover from their full and exciting day.

Reluctantly, he pulled Brienne from her amorous exploration of his body. "My Dear." He halted her progress, turning her to work the laces which bound the back of her bodice. "You are exhausted." He tried to reason.

With an uncharacteristic pout, Brienne expressed her frustration. "Do you not wish to consumate our wedding vows." She turned to give an exaggerated hurt glare.

Unable to resist her adorable disappointment, Jaime kissed the bridge of Brienne's nose, and ran his hand around her life-filled abdomen. "We have already consummated our marriage." He reminded her. "Many times." He declared, his fingers returning to his attempts at preparing her for slumber.

Enjoying the warmth of his nearness, and giving her best try at seduction, Brienne leaned back against Jaime. At last her gown loosened, and fell in silken waves to her elbows. Her ivory shoulders bared to him, Jaime fought his own reaction. He lowered his face against her neck, closing his eyes, trying to maintain his resolve. The feel of her soft skin, and the sweet frangrance of her body soon thwarted his efforts. He felt himself harden against the soft mound of her ass.

Brienne moaned with a soft sigh as she became aware of his arousal. Slowly, almost reflexively his hand and stump slid around her frame to caress the curves of her front. His handless right arm glided protectively over the sweet bulge of Brienne's belly. His left hand filled with the soft enticing flesh of her perfect breasts. Brienne's breath shallowed, begging him for more. She let her wedding dress float to the ground and turned to stand naked before her husband.

Jaime's enraptured eyes beheld Brienne as if she were a miracle sent to him from the Heavens. "Gods." He breathed. "You are so beautiful." Jaime swore.

Unwilling to be denied any longer, Brienne lunged for her prize, catching Jaime's lips in hers. He answered her forcefully, his tongue probing the soft sweetness of her mouth. His determination defeated, Jaime lost himself in his bride. He would have Brienne this night, as his wife. As if reading his mind, Brienne deepened their kiss and began to pull open the drawstring of his britches. Before allowing him a moment to recover, she drew on his mouth like a dying woman thirsting for water. He offered the sustenance she so desperately needed. Without releasing him, Brienne's hand drifted into the front of his britches, seizing his hard erection. He groaned lustfully welcoming her forceful persuasion.

Their lungs begging for air, Jaime and Brienne gasped against each other, both trembling from the urgency of their need. With an erotic leer, Jaime gathered Brienne in his arms. He carefully lowered her onto the bed. Placing a long lasting kiss upon her lips, he rose from her. His eyes never left the deep blue depths of hers as he teased with an exaggerated display of removing his remaining garments. The performance only heightened her longing. Thoughtfully, he bent and retrieved the heirloom gown in which she had appeared to him at the alter. Gently he folded the delicate silk and set it on the cushions of a nearby settee. His gesture of caring touched her deepest heart, and she reached for him. He quickly returned to her side as if tied with some unseen cord.

Carefully, Jaime laid beside Brienne, taking her in his grasp and kissing her once more with passionate abandon. He maneuvered his body lithely along hers and rested his weight as close to her as he dared. When he tried to lower himself atop her, the soft roundness of her belly pressed against his own abdomen. Quickly, Jaime retreated, fearful of harming either Brienne or the tiny life she carried within. With a frustrated huff, he repositioned and tried once more. Again, her shape halted his progress. Brienne watched his beleaguered attempts with amusement. It was when she could no longer hide her giggles that he gave up.

Jaime slumped at her side, his arm resting over her pregnant belly. "It appears your condition has begun to impede our love making." He informed her studiously.

Brienne nodded in understanding and considered the predicament for a moment. "Well." She agreed. "I am sure you can think of some solution." She challenged. "You are my Lord Commander, after all. Is it not one of your duties to see to my needs.?" She feigned innocence in a mocked demanding fashion.

Jaime took Brienne's hand and kissed her fingers. "It is." He acquiesced. "In fact." He continued, trailing kisses down her arm. "…one of my more favored parts of the job." He replied, lasciviously.

Brienne sighed deeply, eager to have her desires fulfilled. "Well, then my Lord." She smiled. "I am putty in your hands." She smiled wantonly. "Please do solve this problem." Her eyes begged him more than her teasing tone implied.

In an instant, Jaime raised himself over Brienne, and reached down for another kiss. She eagerly granted it. After receiving his needed incentive, Jaime moved toward her hips. He took her thighs and spread them around himself as he knelt between her legs upon the bed. The slick of wetness that awaited him there nearly made him lose his mind. He gritted his teeth in a lustful growl and pressed his cock harder against her soft warm folds. Brienne watched him, holding his eyes in her begging stare. A coy smile played over Jaime's face as he teased her. Brienne's lovely breasts heaved with her heady gasps. He bent forward and cupped the soft round flesh in his hand, steadying himself on the bed with his stump. Her sharp inhale told him that his solution was working as he rolled his thumb over her hard nipples, pinching with tantalizing glee, increasing her wonderful torment. With a needful force, Jaime leaned further and captured Brienne's lips. She wrapped her arms possessively around him, begging for more.

When his tongue had been sufficiently satiated by the sweet taste of her, Jaime pulled back. He straighten as he stared at Brienne, unable to take his gaze from her lovely blue eyes. Unwilling to deny himself any longer, Jaime pulled Brienne's glorious long legs upward and wrapped them around his neck. In the same moment, he plunged himself deep inside her, gasping in painful pleasure as her hot velvet sheath enveloped him.

Brienne's back arched, and her fingers grasped at the sheets as the force of him filled her. Her gasping pants turned to an inviting moan in her throat. She inched her way closer to him, driving him even further. Wordlessly, Jaime's hand reached for hers. Their fingers entwined and held tight to each other. Their eyes sought the other's like beacons. They had known the enjoyment and satisfaction of sharing their bodies before, however this time was different. They were now one, in the eyes of the Gods and of man, as they always had been in their hearts. Their bond was strong, and could never be broken, not by any war, or dragon, or human. It was only them and no one else. They were husband and wife, a family, a legacy. The knowledge brought a belonging and contentment that fueled their passion and burned hotter than any wildfire.

Taking his cue, from the pleading in her gaze, Jaime rocked hard against Brienne, moving in an out of her like the waves of the ocean that serenaded their love making from below. She answered his advances with cries of passion which verged on frantic screams. Certain that their babe was far too deep in his slumber to be rousted by the sensual symphony they created, the couple made no attempt to conceal their ardor as they neared the height of their ecstasy.

Jaime's gaze was frozen upon Brienne. He felt as though he should fall to his knees and worship at her feet. She was in every way his own goddess. The beauty he saw in her, and the love he felt for her, surpassed any other he had ever thought he had known. He had not lived until she became his life. They had suffered so much, and triumphed together. Now she was his wife, and he the luckiest man alive. He would spend his lifetime at last understanding bliss. The thought of eternity with the woman he loved thrilled him so that he was no longer able to fight the urge building within him. He could sense that Brienne was nearing her breaking point as well. A needful cry burst forth from him, meeting the sweet furious song that emanated from her. She trembled as her orgasm shook her, and he filled her with his own.

Gulping a stunned breath, Jaime released Brienne and settled her body onto the bed. Brienne lay depleted in the tangled sheets. He crawled to meet her and collapsed beside her. Drawing his hand anxiously over her frame, Jaime rested his palm over her rounded belly, nervous that he may have injured her, or the babe.

"Are you alright, My Love?" He stammered.

Brienne sighed and smiled sweetly at him. "We are fine, Beloved." She answered softly.

He enfolded her in his arms and laid kisses upon her bare skin. Jaime held Brienne in the darkness for a long while until, overcome, tears of joy trailed from his eyes and flowed over her skin. "What is the matter?" She questioned warily, her eyes finding his in the moonlight that bathed them from the window.

Almost unable to speak, Jaime took a long beleaguered breath. "Nothing at all." He assured her. "I am simply thinking of how precious you are to me." He admitted.

Brienne turned to him, and laid her hand to his jaw. "As you are to me, My Darling." She said tenderly.

Jaime looked at her as if she was sent from the Heavens themselves, and pulled her closer. "I shall never let you go." He promised. "I love you." He vowed to her.

Brienne nestled her forehead to his, loving tears of her own wetting her cheeks. "I love you, too." She answered him earnestly.

The kiss they shared was pure, and sweet, and passionate. They basked in its power, too overcome to speak. Until at last Brienne eyes grew heavy, and she signed with exhaustion. "We have come so far." She told him in awe.

Jaime pressed his lips to her forehead and gloried in the thought she had expressed. "That we have, Dearest." He confirmed. "And we have so much more ahead of us." He grinned. "I cannot wait to see it." Jaime whispered excitedly to her.

Brienne signaled her agreement with a contented sigh and a wistful smile as she drifted off to sleep in Jaime's arms. He brought the quilts around her for warmth, and drew her into his grasp once more. Settled again at her side, Jaime found himself losing the battle with fatigue. He gave a prayer of thanks the Gods for all they had given him. Then he kissed Brienne in her slumber and drifted off to sleep himself, his son slumbering peacefully in the cradle a few paces away, his babe growing strong in its mother's womb, his wife in his arms.