Jon had made provision for Jaime and Briennes trip, gifting them horses and food for the hard ride to the boat, ready and prepared to take them south before Stannis noticed their flight.

Jaime had never imagined he would be glad to feel the roll and tilt of the sea beneath him, but as he watched the shore line disappear, he was glad to see land fade into the distance.

From his view, draped over the gunnel of the ship and barely holding his breakfast down as Brienne wretched the last of hers up and out of her system.

Jaime rubbed her back with his left hand and felt a slither of pride that he was permitted to care for her this way in a public arena; his wife despised any display of weakness.

"How are you feeling?" He asked gently.

Brienne pulled her sweated brow from the crook of her arm and, looking altogether too helpless, admitted, "Not good."

Without understanding where the strength came from, Jaime had lifted his wife into his arms and carried her to their cabin to place her on the bed…

"Shall I fetch Gili?" He asked; the wildling girl having been a member of their party and part of the bargain for their escape from the men of the wall.

"Just water," Brienne requested, curling herself on the meagre bed to find comfort where possible by compacting herself.

Jaime couldn't refuse… bringing her the glass and seeing her struggle to move.

His heart pulled and he clambered onto the mattress, gently urging her to pillow herself on his chest and drape on his body so he could cradle her enough to encourage a few, meagre, sips of water.

Jaime hooked his golden hand about his wife to keep her close as he stroked the sweat-matted hair from her forehead; it had grown a little longer during their travels and he liked the way she craned to let his fingers swirl about her.

Brienne moaned a little, making him squirm… now was not the time!

"That's nice," she sighed.

Another wave of contentment washed over him as she nuzzled her head into his chest and his fingers wound down to the shell of her ear to earn another sigh… so they crept the length of her neck to her left breast, kneading her as her breath became heavy and her body ground back into his.

Jaime scooched down in the bed, keeping her body ontop of him so his lips could meet the base of her neck, his hand worked her skin and his crotch lay neatly at her ass.

They were still dressed, but their skin pinked as moved back into him and he rolled her head so her lips met his in a kiss.

His tongue was in her mouth to taste her as soon as she permitted and his hand shot beneath the waste of her trousers to feel the sweet heat he craved.

Brienne broke to give a lustful gasp…

Gods he loved that sound; so in reward he parted her to find the spot that made her whole body pulse as he pressed and rolled her with the pad of his finger.

Brienne juddered back into him; the movement sparking his own arousal as his blood pulsed and he broke their kiss to sink his teeth, bluntly, back into her neck and suck her skin as his fingers twisted and hooked their way into her.

She cried out and swivelled, shifting her weight so he lost his hold and they lay side by side…

"Jaime…" she rasped…

But he was quick to cover her with his body and wrench the loosened trousers from her as she wriggled and held him… poised between her legs and bareness…

They breathed…

"We can't…" she stated, looking dreadful.

And she was dreadful; pale as she was from sickness.

And she was glorious.

Jaime smiled… the motion may prove too much.

He backed away slightly.

Brienne smiled… a small, disappointed smile.

So he did the only thing he could.

He kissed her.

At her centre.

And she came.

()()()()

While their brief tryst distracted Brienne from her sickness, the moment she ate rang a resurgence in more ways than one; Jaime ran from the cabin, barley containing himself before emptying his own stomach over the ships gunnel.

Gods… he hated the sea.

It was raining and the ship pitched back and forth over wave after wave…

His stomach rolled with it.

Jaime was soaked through and shaking, sick as a dog but could still hear the laughter above the groaning, creaking, protests of their ship as it fought its way through the onslaught of waves.

What was that noise?

Not one of the crew… surely…

Dragging his heavy, all-but-dead, form from its perch he pursued the sound of laughter to find Maester Aemon on the open deck, crying into the night…

What the hells was the daft old git doing out in such weather?

He wasn't sick… he was…

Well… he was happy!

Old maester must have gone mad; so long in the dark and the cold and the snow… but there was something almost childlike in his delight.

"Maester Aamon," Jamie called, stumbling shambolically in the old man's direction, "We must get you inside!"

Either the old man didn't hear him or didn't want to hear him as he headed, barefoot and bleating about the beauty of life toward the bow of the ship.

The measter was insane! Jaime staggered in his wake; slower and unable to keep from retching every pace or two…

And still… the old man was elated… stretching his hands out to the stormy skies and crying for them to be peaceful but revelling in their energy.

Batty old coot was going to catch his death of cold… but maybe that was the point.

Jaime turned to see Sam and Gili huddled in the door of the hatch and stumbled toward them as the sea turned…

Nature frowned on them, throwing down her gauntlet all the harder by slamming water through crashing waves and falling skies.

Aemon was calling to the howling wind and laughing wildly as the knights-watchman and wilding looked on…

"One of you should get out there," Jaime began to shout above the wind and rain as the ship pitched and his stomach rolled, "he's too frail to be out in this storm."

Gili rose her eyes to Sam.

The larger man looked softly on his elder and straightened in his resolve, "We're here if he needs us… but if this is what he wants, I won't stop him."

Jaime felt his eyes roll… and while he understood the sentiment, there had to be a point when restraint was necessary.

Nevertheless, he could see it was pointless to continue… and so headed back to bed.

"Where have you been?" His wife asked, rushing to him and embracing his shivering form. "You're soaking wet and freezing!"

And while he allowed her to peel the drenched garments from him, Jaime couldn't help but think of Aemon up on deck, shouting at the storm.

He felt like he had been doing that all his life.

Shouting at the storm.

The storm didn't care, it couldn't hear you and did as it pleased.

Brienne wrapped him in her arms and drew him to their bed.

Perhaps Sam and Gili were right, he thought as he moved more strongly into his wifes arms and leant in to kiss her…

Why not let the old man choose his end? Why not follow your heart and not your duty?

Jaime rolled Brienne onto her back and covered her with his body and loved her.

Because it was what he wanted; he knew they would be in Kingslanding in a few days and everything might have to change. But for now, in the heat and love of the moment, he didn't care.

When they were done and resting in the aftermath, Brienne leaned her head on his chest and worried the hair on his chest with her finger…

"Jaime…" she sighed…

There was something wrong. He could tell…

"Yes?"

Silence.

This wasn't good.

"Brienne?"

"I'm thinking of how to tell you this…" she admitted in a snap.

He recoiled a little, stung.

Still, she worried the hair and pressed into him in anxiety.

"It can't be that bad…" he tried to soothe, only succeeding in making her tense… Not the right thing to say… "Might help to just say it," he suggested.

Her breath juddered across his skin, making him stir again…

He had to control himself!

"Ok…" she nodded in his embrace, "Ok… I'll tell you."

Brienne was suddenly dragging herself and him up in the bed to kneel opposite eachother.

This was starting to concern him as she took his hand and golden hand in her own…

Brienne turned those exquisite eyes on him and his heart stilled…

"I'm pregnant."

…

Silence.