"Seems my brother's annulment is being annulled." Jamie breezed into her bedchamber as if it was his own. He pushed the arms of his tunic up and started tugging at the strings of his hand.
"What?" Brienne's eyes widened and he gave her a haphazard grin before returning to the strings. "That's the last thing I think I would have ever expected you to say."
"I know." He shook his head slowly, before sitting on the edge of the mattress next to her and extending his arm. She pulled the strings apart with ease before peeling the leather from his skin.
"You're filthy." She scrunched her nose up at him.
"I'm so sorry M'Lady, I've been rebuilding a castle from the ground up while you've been lounging about." He teased, adjusting the pillows behind her.
"Don't make me feel worse than I do!" She moaned.
"You look good." She tilted her head to the left, giving him that look, but he could see the blush rise up her throat. "How do you feel?"
"Guilty." She huffed. "I'm going insane, just sitting here while everyone is working."
"The maester says a few more days." He told her softly, adjusting the slipping strap of her nightclothes.
"The maester doesn't know who he's dealing with." She huffed.
"No, he does not." Jamie smirked, his voice low as watched the blush spread again. She was unbinding his stump, her gaze examining the pressure wounds there. She still looked tired, and her eyes were far to sunken and dull for him to believe that she felt well enough to be out working.
"You shouldn't be wearing it yet." She chastised, turning his appendage slowly, looking at the broken down skin, pressing her fingers lightly against the swelling.
"I'm not going out there without it." He snorted indigently, she made a face like he was being an idiot, but her eyes never left his arm. "I'd sooner not wear pants."
"Well if it gets infected, they'll have to keep whittling away until you have a whole arm of gold. Bring me a cloth." She ordered.
"Yes Sir." He rose grasping at the golden monstrosity and flinging it onto the table, before wetting a cloth and returning to his spot on the bed. Brienne went about cleaning the worn patches with careful precision. Jamie swallowed the hiss that rose in his throat, his nursemaid politely pretended not to notice.
"Tell me more about Sansa and your brother." She told him quietly.
"Not much to tell. I haven't even had a chance to talk to Tyrion, but word on the west tower repair crew is that they had a moment in the Crypt and they've asked the Queen to annul the annulment." His stump jerked when she it a particularly raw area and she yanked it back to her lap.
"Hold still." She scolded roughly, but Jamie watched the way the pads of her fingers stroked the perimeter of the wound softly. "Don't you think it's strange though? Lady Sansa and your brother?"
"One would think they're an odd match, but Tyrion is witty and smart. She likes that." He thought back to what Sansa had been through, swallowing hard. "She needs kindness. He can be kind."
"Lots of people can be can be kind." She reminded him absently, her fingertips still examining the skin of his arm. "You can be kind." He closed his hand over hers and she raised her eyes to his.
"Trying to get rid of me?" He gave her a lopsided smirk. She swallowed, her face pinching and her lips pressing together tightly. "What?"
"Why are you still here?" She whispered.
"You're going to have to be more specific." Jamie chuckled dryly.
"Jamie.."
"Why am I still alive? Why am I still in Winterfell? Or why am I still.." He lifted his hand off of hers for a second before returning it. "Here?"
"All of it maybe?"
"You know why." His voice was soft but he pulled his arms from hers anyway, returning the washcloth to the basin. He dropped into the chair he'd occupied for days waiting for her to wake up, struggling with the laces on his shoes. She watched him push them off and under the bed before returning to the basin to wash his face and hand before starting to wind fresh cloth around his stump. She remained silent as he undid the buttons of his tunic and pulled it over his head, running a new cloth across his chest and under his arms. She watched him dig through his satchel on the floor until he came up with a fresh garment and fought his way into it.
He swallowed hard, moving around the room as if it were his own, putting things away and and making piles of laundry to be dealt with. He picked at a piece of bread she'd left on a tray at the bedside table and took a bite, the whole time his eyes falling on everything but her. Her eyes never left him.
Jamie Lannister took a deep breath and let it rush out of him before sheepishly meeting her eyes.
"You do know why, don't you?" His raspy voice would have gone unheard in any other room, but this one was achingly silent. Brienne blinked at him, her expression unchanging until a loud knock at the door startled them both.
"Ser Brienne?" Jamie's eyes rolled back as his head bobbed to the ceiling before he clumsily reached for his hand, struggling to slip it on. She gave him an admonishing look, he sneered back at her..
"One second please, Tormund." She called, watching Jamie wince as he pulled the damn thing into place, not bothering to lace it. He glanced at her quickly, gesturing at the neckline of her bedclothes and she yanked it up accordingly before arranging the blankets as modestly as possible. Jamie rolled his eyes again before swinging the door open and greeting their guest.
"Ser Jamie." He growled as the Lannister put on his best game face.
"Tormund. How nice of you to stop by." He said evenly, gesturing him into the room and pointing at the table. "Please, have a seat."
Brienne gave her new guest a brief fleeting smile before moving her legs aside, pointedly making room for Jamie on the end of the bed. He dropped there, his right arm landing beside her, stretching unnaturally long as the unbound prosthetic slipped down his arm.
"The Kingkiller told me that you were feeling better." He growled. "You look like you feel good."
He raised an eyebrow and leered at her. Jamie made a face, moving his body closer to the edge of the bed. Brienne noticed his hand didn't move with the rest of him. She ran her teeth over her lower lips.
"Yes, Tormund." She nodded. "I've nearly healed."
The wildling was unabashedly staring at her unbinded breasts at it was all she could do to keep from pulling the warm fur pelt blanket up to her chin. Tormund's advances didn't usually bother her per se, but she didn't relish hosting anyone while she lay helpless and unarmored in her sick bed.
Except for Jamie. Jamie brought her stories of the day and kept her sane with tales about Casterly Rock. Jamie had spent an hour 'instructing' poor Poddrick how best to replace the leather ties on her armor that had given way in the fight for the living, allowing the injury to occur in the first place. It was Jamie who peppered the maester with questions about the infection in her blood, the depth of each end of the wound; and how to avoid scar tissue that would hinder her movement in battle. It was Jamie who had taken to stroking her hair when she woke up with a start in the dark, still feeling the hands of the undead clawing at her. Jamie had moved into her bedchamber while she lay unconscious and never left, and she found she didn't mind that one bit.
He was currently distracting Tormund with questions. He had also seemed to notice where the Wildling was looking, and instead had him focused now on the craftsmanship of the room. He was pointing at different buttresses and stonework and wondering out loud where they would find the smiths to repair the part of the castle they were assigned to repair it to its former glory.
Jamie was asking him about preferred building materials of the wildlings. Jamie had pivoted so he was nearly a wall himself between Tormund and her bosom.
His heavy gold hand had not, she noticed. It wouldn't follow him when he rose.
"I'm afraid we're boring my commander." Jamie was telling Tormund, the large man glanced at her and she gave him a polite but sleepy smile.
"Join me in the mead hall Kingkiller, we'll finish our discussion." The Wildling looked at him expectantly. She felt him hesitate beside her before giving a quick nod and start to slide to his feet. She grabbed at his arm and held him back.
"Actually Tormund I need to speak with Ser Jamie for a moment. We were in the middle of something." Brienne slid her fingers between the sheath of his hand and his stump and his back straightened. He looked at his hand and then back over his shoulder at her. She was closer than he expected and he stifled a gasp.
Tormund the Wildling was the first one to move.
"Yes. I see that." He sounded more than slightly disappointed. "I should have known as much."
After he'd stomped his way out of the chamber, Brienne dropped her chin, her hands rolling up his tunic sleeve and rolling the arm the rest of the way down and lifted his arm out.
"Thanks for the cover." He whispered, she could feel his breath on her cheek. She lifted her face back up to his and gave him a small smile.
"We were in the middle of something." She reminded him, casting her gaze back downward.
"In answer to your question M'Lady. I have found as of late that is the only place I want to be." He swallowed hard, but she remained still. "I came to Winterfell because I needed to fight beside you. I lived through that fight because I fought beside you; and when you were fighting for your life I wanted to fight beside you."
"The fighting is over now." She reminded him softly.
"Yet here I remain." He breathed, as tears pooled in her eyes. "Do you want me to go?"
Brienne curled her fingers tighter around his limb, her eyes never leaving his as she shook her head.
His left hand fluttered to her jaw and he flicked his eyes from hers to her lips and back again.
"I've never kissed another knight before." He whispered cheekily.
"Not even the sword of the morning?" She asked him, the edges of her mouth twitching upward before she moved her head until their lips were nearly touching.
Jamie Lannister kissed her then, impossibly gently, and Brienne of Tarth let him.