The music rang loudly in her ears as Brienne watched a group of people passing her to join an already crowded dance floor. It was dark and hot in there. The air was filled with the intoxicating scent of alcohol and smoke with a mix of perfumes and sweat.
Brienne hated such places and always did everything she could to avoid these kinds of parties. But this time it was an informal celebration of their graduation and it was expected of everyone to come and have fun together for the very last time. As far as Brienne knew, most of the people from her year were going to different places across the whole Westeros and Essos and very likely it was the last time she was seeing most of them.
Not that she would miss them. To be honest, there were only a few people with whom Brienne formed a sort of friendship and mainly it was for their sake that she agreed to attend this party. Sansa and Margaery didn't want to hear any of Brienne's excuses.
Not having another choice, she let them pick a dress for this occasion and even take care of her hair so it could look at least somehow agreeable. Not that it would make any difference, but it was nice to finally look somehow… not pretty or even plain. That she could never be no matter what she did. But maybe a bit softer, like a slightly nicer version of herself.
But now, sitting in the club, all her confidence vanished like a puff of smoke. She felt exposed like she was pretending to be someone else and everyone could see right through it.
"Brienne, stop pulling your dress down. It looks great just the way it is," Margaery said with a knowing smile. "I know what I'm talking about."
"I'm not entirely sure it's my style," Brienne took a bottle of beer to occupy somehow her hands and prevent them from constant fixing of her skirt.
"If I had legs that long I'd do everything to highlight them."
"Yeah," Sansa agreed. "Many would kill for such legs. Me included."
Not, if they went in a package with such a face.
Brienne took a sip of her beer. It didn't help much to wash away the bitter taste of her thoughts.
"Come on, girls! Now's the time to crash the dancefloor," Margaery exclaimed cheerfully, hitting her empty shot glass on their tiny table in the corner.
"I think I'll stay here."
"Oh, come on, Brienne. I won't let you sit here the whole night."
"I'll be fine. I still have my beer." She deliberately was drinking it as slow as she could.
"But…"
"Seriously, I'll join you later."
"Okay. If you say so. But you won't get out of your promise that easily this time."
Brienne only smiled in response.
A minute later, looking at the dance floor, Brienne couldn't help a slight pang in her heart. She longed to be there. To feel the music, let it pass through her body, and let everything go. To move swiftly with the music and in rhythm with someone else.
Despite being tall and ungainly, Brienne loved dancing. She always had. Since she was a child.
Brienne could still remember the afternoons after school. She usually spent them dancing to her favourite songs. She sang too, imagining that one day she could do it on a stage and the people would love her voice and her performance. It was so silly of her. But she was a child then, not a quick one, and it seemed to her that she was getting really good at it. Her movements fluid and her voice strong. And father always smiled when she prepared a little performance for him.
Until their neighbour, Roelle came with a visit one afternoon. Brienne was in the middle of her favourite song when she heard the sound of the opening door. Curious, she stopped and peeked into the hallway.
"What is that howling coming from your living room, Selwyn?"
"Oh, it's just Brienne," she heard her father's distant voice.
"I should have guessed. She's a rather unfortunate child. Does she have any hobby she actually has any talent for? Maybe you should encourage her to find something else."
The memory still stung. But not the harsh Roelle's words. No one has ever expected any kindness from this old bitter woman. It was her father's silence that hurt her the most. From that day Brienne stopped dancing and singing and if her father ever noticed the unusual silence in their house, he had never said anything about this.
Brienne swallowed another sip of her beer. The bottle was almost empty and her excuse to stay behind was becoming invalid. Soon girls will be back for another series of colourful shots and then they will take Brienne back with them.
It was not something Brienne looked forward to and this thought was making her feel selfish and ungrateful. Sansa and Margaery were kind to her. It was fun to spend free time together, but sometimes it felt like being a third wheel. Brienne knew they had the best intentions in mind but the differences between them could not just disappear that easily. For example, now, they didn't understand how it was to get together to the dance floor and after a minute to be left there alone among dancing couples. It was never a case for them. They both were beautiful and always surrounded by lines of guys wanting to dance with them, buy them a drink, or simply take them to the dark corner for a quick snog.
They didn't know how awkwardly Brianne felt when the three of them were sitting the next day after parties with the cups of coffee and discussing all the events from the night before. The truth to be told, it was mostly Sansa and Margaery complaining about all the unwanted attention they had got. Brienne could never contribute much to these conversations simply because no one had ever shown any interest in her. Other than joking and making fun of her.
She had no idea how it was to be wanted and it was long since she had given up the hope of ever finding out. But still, hearing from beautiful girls how lucky she was made her feel like the greatest joke of all time. Brienne didn't want to be lucky. She longed to be wanted and loved. But for some reason, it was too much to ask for an ugly girl. Ugly girls were meant for work and career. Platonic friendship at best. Never for love.
Brienne shook her bottle. It was long as empty. Brienne directed her gaze to the dance floor. It took her a few minutes to spot Margaery in the dark corner passionately kissing a dark-haired guy, Oberyn if Brienne was not mistaken, judging by the profile and extravagant style. Sansa with reddened cheeks was dancing with Harry, her new crush. It seemed they won't remember about her any time soon and Brienne wasn't sure if she was more relieved or hurt by the fact that she was so easily forgotten. I'm being unfair, she scolded herself, I don't want to be there and now I'm resenting them for having fun without me.
"It looks like someone's got to the wrong party," a familiar voice interrupted her thoughts.
Brienne didn't have to look up to know who it was. Him.
"Do you mind if I join your table of merriment and fun?"
"If I do mind, would it stop you?" she asked without looking at him.
"Not really," she heard him laughing in response. "All tables are already occupied."
"This one in as well," Brienne finally spared him a glance just to see that famous smirk on his ridiculously handsome face. Involuntary, she felt her cheeks getting hot. Unfortunately, Jaime Lannister of all people had to have this effect on her.
"Yes. But this one has the one advantage the others are lacking," Jaime said with clear amusement in his voice and despite her better judgment, Brienne found herself looking around the room. One quick glance was enough to notice that her table was the smallest, located in the darkest corner of the room. Of course, here people won't notice who is sharing it with him.
"The most desirable company of all," Jaime finished sitting on a high chair beside her. "And to earn this honoured place at your side, my lady, I'm bringing you the best bottle of beer this place can offer," he said, handing her a bottle she didn't notice before.
"You didn't have to," Brienne mumbled not knowing where to look.
"Yours was empty I noticed," Jaime shrugged.
"Thanks," Brienne tentatively turned the bottle in her hands. She wasn't sure what to do or say next. She never felt at ease with people she barely knew. Jaime wasn't quite that, but he wasn't her friend either. Despite the time they spent together, his presence still could be overwhelming sometimes. His personality shone as bright as his golden hair, making Brienne plain and dull in comparison.
"Why that sour look on your face? I thought you'd be happy about the prospect of never seeing us again," Jaime said, taking a sip and throwing her appraising look.
Brienne let out a breath before replying.
"No, it's not what you think," she said carefully choosing her words. "I'm certain I will miss those years spent here." And some people probably too.
"Me included?" Jaime asked as if he could read her mind.
You the most.
"No, I don't think so," she said instead.
Some time ago she fancied herself to be in love with him. It was hard not to fall for him. Especially after spending so much time on projects they were, for some reason, continuously assigned to do together. It felt like blessing and torture at the same time. So much that one time after the classes, Brienne went straight to professor Aemon to ask for a change of partner.
"Did something wrong happen between you and Mr. Lannister?"
Even though Brienne expected this kind of question, she failed to provide an answer. There was nothing wrong between them. Yes, Jaime could be insufferable, his jokes cutting and obscene sometimes. And he loved teasing her too much for her liking. But in his own way, Jaime could be caring and kind.
So there was nothing wrong between them except for her feelings that were growing with every minute spent in his presence. But it wasn't something she could tell the old professor. And she couldn't lie.
"If no, then I would highly encourage you to continue working together," professor Aemon said after she hadn't come up with any response. "The results of your cooperation are really impressive I must say. It would be such a waste if you couldn't find a common ground."
It took Brienne the whole summer before their last year to finally get over this crush. It was pointless to even think about him in this way. At the very beginning of their acquaintance, Jaime made it very clear that she wasn't someone he could take interest in. "Gods, are you a woman?" were his first words directed to her. She couldn't really blame him. Jaime could have anyone. Someone as beautiful and captivating as him.
"The feeling is mutual. At least there is one thing we have in common," he said.
Brienne didn't reply and they sat drinking their beers, surrounded by music and the endless chatter of other people, which grew louder and louder with every drunk unit of alcohol.
"Do you plan to stay here?" Jaime suddenly asked.
"No. Tomorrow I'm leaving for Tarth. And then to Essos. You?"
"Staying here."
Brienne only nodded and again focused attention on her drink. She wasn't sure what else could be said and was almost relieved when Jaime left her table without saying another word.
As Brienne predicted, seconds later Sansa and Margaery returned and demanded more shots. At least they knew how to have fun.
"Did I see Lannister here?" Margaery asked with a sly smile on her face. "What did he want?"
"Nothing," Brienne shrugged. "He just said goodbye."
He didn't, in fact, but Brienne didn't want to go into details of this strange conversation.
"I can't say he's my favourite person, but gods, I'll miss the sight of this sharp jaw."
"And perfect ass," Sansa added, giggling.
"But Brienne will miss him the most, right?"
"What do you mean?" Brienne asked, turning her head away from sequins on Margaery's dress, furiously shining in flashing lights.
"We know you still like him."
"I certainly do not." She was over this foolish crush.
"And I'm quite sure he likes you. The way he..."
"Marg, I'm not having this conversation again. You drank too many shots."
"But she's right, Brienne," Sansa said, just as always backing Margaery. "If you want him…"
Yeah, go get him. Utter and unrealistic nonsense. Brienne couldn't listen to it any second longer.
"I need to go to the loo."
Without another glance in their direction, Brienne quickly left the room. When she returned an eternity later, she found their table occupied by people she vaguely remembered from classes. It was still too early to leave and she needed to find girls first. It was their unbreakable rule — always let the others know before you leave.
Brienne took her usual place against the wall. The music was still playing, the people were still dancing. Brienne spotted Marg's shiny dress on the dancefloor, as well as Sansa's red locks.
I'll wait for a few more songs and tell them I'm leaving, she thought.
By the end of her chosen timeframe, in the place where lights couldn't reach, Brienne was gently swaying to the music. She was almost upset this was the end. She was going through the crowd toward the dance floor when the next song caught her attention. Brienne knew this one. Every sound was carved painfully in her memory and into her heart.
Suddenly she was in high school again. It was a winter ball, which she only agreed to attend because she didn't want to upset her father. He had thought Brienne would greatly enjoy music and dancing. She would. If nobody was there to see her. She tried to spend that evening the best she could, mainly avoiding others, not wanting to spoil their fun. Then she heard the words.
"Can I ask for a dance?"
Brienne looked around in confusion, but there were no other girls to whom this request could be directed. It must be a jape, she thought but her classmate Hyle was smiling at her slightly and his eyes seemed sincere.
"Y-yes," Brienne stuttered, letting him lead her to the dance floor. Brienne's heart was racing. It was the first time in her life that someone asked her for a dance and it made her feel dizzier than after two glasses of champagne she had drunk before.
The first sounds of a song filled the room, making her whole body tremble. If Brienne expected that Hyle would hold her hand, she was terribly mistaken. He was just standing in front of her and lightly swaying with the music. Brienne didn't dare to reach for him, so she just went after his example, her previous joy slowly turning into the feeling of awkwardness and embarrassment. It was not how she had imagined her first dance with someone. In her dreams, she was always held and her partner's blue eyes, suspiciously similar to Renly's, were locked with hers. Definitely not standing two steps apart and seeing Hyle's turned face while he was talking with his friend Mark.
The charade lasted till the middle of the song. They couldn't keep it any longer and in mere seconds the whole room was laughing at the stupid ugly girl who had believed that someone wanted to dance with her.
Holding back tears Brienne left and spent the rest of the time safely locked in the bathroom until her father came to pick her up. She didn't tell him anything of that to spare him the embarrassment of having such an unfortunate daughter. She knew she wasn't a child any parent would like to have. And that was the main reason she had never told her father anything about her troubles, about sniding remarks in her direction, or just the infinite loneliness she felt. It was better to deal with everything on her own than let her father know how a great failure she was...
Brienne blinked trying to shake off the painful memory so distinctly played before her eyes. The music was still playing and preventing it from disappearing. And there was nothing good enough to replace it.
Brienne sighed. Suddenly she felt just tired. Tired of people seeing only the outer layer of her and condemning her for something she couldn't change. Tired of waiting to be treated decently. She had waited for her whole life. For nothing. Nothing was freely given to her except for laughs and ridicule. Everything good she had, it was her doing, her fighting, her achievement.
Looking around she saw Sansa and Margaery on a dance floor. She noticed Loras and Renly on a couch and Jaime with a stern face, listening to something Addam was telling him.
And then, in flashing lights reflecting in her deep blue dress and the last sounds of this hateful song ringing in her ears, Brienne made a decision.
She wanted to have one good memory. Just this one dance. Was it too much to ask?
Brienne went through the room. She had to do it now or she would lose her sudden courage. Now. Before her insecurities will make her doubt and second-guess her decision.
In a few seconds, she found herself standing in front of Jaime, effectively interrupting his conversation with Addam.
"Brienne," he said, clearly surprised by her unexpected appearance. His beautiful green eyes were curiously studying her. "What can I do for you?"
Brienne let out a deep breath.
"May I have this dance, Jaime?"
The moment those words left her mouth, all her courage evaporated together with the alcohol she consumed that night, clearing her mind of whatever madness that possessed her.
Jaime was staring at her like she just lost her senses and only now Brienne truly comprehended how ridiculous she and her request must have looked for him. She would take it back if she could.
Slowly, disbelief on Jaime's face disappeared, replaced by an amused smile.
Brienne had to use all of her willpower to repress the desperate need to flee. She made herself look into his eyes instead.
You were brave enough to ask him. Now be brave to hear his response. If he refuses her? If he laughs at her? If he mocks her? So what? Nothing she hadn't heard before.
But the words that came next completely surprised her.
"You may," Jaime said, smiling and extending his hand.
And not quite believing it was happening, Brienne took it.
The unexpected warmth radiated from their joined hands and went through her whole body in pleasurable waves.
Brienne hadn't even noticed when they reached the dance floor. She stiffed as she felt Jaime's right hand on her back, gently pulling her closer to him. She had never been so close to anyone, not to mention someone she had a secret crush on for so long.
"Relax, Brienne," Jaime whispered in her ear. "I'd like to dance with you, not your imitation of a broomstick."
Brienne silently nodded and hesitantly put her hand on his shoulder. Her heart had never beaten so fast and her face had never been so hot. They started to move and almost immediately found their rhythm. Brienne didn't have to think, with Jaime every move she had learned so long ago felt as natural as breathing.
There were no words between them and too soon Brienne realized that the song was reaching its inevitable end. She desperately tried to remember the touch of Jaime's hand and the feel of his hard muscles under the smooth fabric of his deep green shirt. The expression in his shining eyes she couldn't quite figure out and the soft smile tugging his lips.
They stopped with the last sound of the song. This was the moment to thank Jaime for his kindness and leave. Before something spoils this wonderful moment.
Brienne took a step back only to discover that Jaime didn't let go of her hand.
"In a million years I wouldn't have guessed you move so well, Tarth," he said, gently caressing the back of her hand with his thumb.
Brienne shuddered.
"No one would, I believe" she replied suddenly too shy to meet his gaze.
"Care to go for another one?"
Did he really?..
"Yes," her voice was barely louder than a whisper but he must have heard it or he just saw the desperate need in her eyes as he pulled her close against his chest and they danced again.
Again.
And again.
Until they were the last couple on a dance floor. It must have been early morning.
The music slowed down and exhausted, they were just swaying with both Jaime's hands on her waist and hers around his neck, lazily playing with his golden locks.
"You know," Jaime said in a slightly hoarse voice, "I think you have not told me the truth today."
"What do you mean?"
"I start to think," a mischievous appeared on his face, "that despite your crude words earlier, you will miss me."
Brienne's hands stilled on his neck.
"I…" she stopped not knowing how to finish.
Of course, she will. There was no other way with Jaime.
"Am I wrong? Or is it so hard to admit?"
It was. Not admitting it was her last wall of defence and removing it would make her so open and so vulnerable. Brienne couldn't let that happen. She was afraid of getting hurt again. Not right after the most wonderful night in her life, he had given her.
And she couldn't ask more of Jaime. He has already made her a favour by not rejecting her the moment she opened her mouth. Brienne knew he had never wanted it in the first place, but he agreed to it anyway. It didn't matter that Jaime might have enjoyed the dance in the end. After the kindness she got from him, it somehow felt wrong to burden Jaime with the feelings he could never reciprocate.
"There is nothing to admit, Jaime," Brienne said after a few moments of silence.
His smile disappeared from his face as well as his hands from her waist. Brienne reluctantly removed hers from his neck immediately missing the feel of his silky golden locks under her fingers.
"Then why did you come to me? Why did you bother if it all is for nothing?"
"I'm sorry. I didn't mean to… to… You didn't have to…"
Jaime narrowed his eyes.
"Didn't have to do what? Dance with you?"
Yes. Brienne nodded, swallowing a thick lump that started forming in her throat. Why everything had to go wrong in the end?
"And if I say I wanted to?"
"No. I know you didn't. Not really," Brienne said, trying to compose herself. Was it not for her request, nothing would ever happen and they wouldn't have this conversation now. "But I do appreciate your kindness."
"Is that it?" for some incomprehensible reason his voice sounded so deflated, making Brienne's heart sore. "You will appreciate my fucking kindness and reject everything else? Seven hells, why am I even surprised? After years of your indifference it should have been expected, right?"
Brienne blinked, the confusion taking over her distress. What was he saying? Indifference? Rejection? Those were always meant for her. Not for him. Never for him.
"But there is nothing else between us, Jaime." It was a sad fact she had learned to accept so long ago but admitting it out loud hurt all the same. "Nor it could be. But I thank you for the dance. It means a lot to me."
"Dance?" Jaime snorted in disbelief. His eyes sharp and cutting. "Blind, stubborn woman. There could be so much more than dance. So much more."
Not waiting for her response, he left her alone on the dance floor. There were no laughs this time. Just the dead gnawing silence.
