Jaime caressed Brienne's face, brushing away a tear with his thumb. She nuzzled his palm before leaning forward to kiss the wetness on his cheek, tasting regret and relief. Gently at first, tentative and questioning, their lips met in a kiss. Jaime pulled Brienne hard against him, leaving no room for anything to come between them. Bound together so closely they could scarce tell where one ended and the other began, they slept.
Long past the time the rest of the Keep's inhabitants were up for the day, Brienne and Jaime were still sleeping off the stress of the previous day. Outside the cell's narrow window the wind was mild and the snow sparse, a rare break from the storm. Dark clouds still hung low over King's Landing, leaching most of the color from the day and allowing no hint of sunlight through.
When Brienne awoke Jaime was sharing her pillow, watching her with a smile on his face, his eyes fringed by dark lashes and heavy with sleep and desire. Brienne always found herself captivated by Jaime's eyes, and wondered that so few people seemed to notice how beautiful they were. She supposed that in Jaime's face his eyes must seem just another handsome feature to behold, while in her face, her eyes were often considered the only charming thing.
As Jaime gazed at her, Brienne realized there was something more than her eyes that inspired his admiration. She loved every nuance of Jaime's face, every expressive look, every feature she beheld. She hadn't guessed until now that he felt the same about hers, that when he studied her face like this he was looking at her out of love.
Jaime smiled more broadly at her, his eyes showing amusement at her shifting expressions, "What are you thinking about, Wench?"
"I was just thinking that you love me," Brienne said.
Jaime laughed, "No more doubts?" he asked, moving closer to brush his lips teasingly against hers.
"No. I realize now that you didn't invite Cersei's attentions, as horrible as it appeared."
"I'm so sorry you had to see what Cersei did, my love. I was so mad after I pushed her away that I punched the wall in our room. I'm pretty sure I bruised my hand. Want to see?"
Brienne chuckled as he held up his clenched fist to show her, "I'm most bothered knowing Cersei had her hand wrapped around your cock," she said to him, "I trust you washed it after she touched it?"
"Washed it? I can't say that occurred to me. We still need to have our bath, so you can help me wash off any trace of her then," he said with a sexy smirk.
Brienne blushed, "I look forward to it, Ser."
"I know you saw Cersei with her hand in my breeches, but just so you know, she was disappointed to find that I didn't swell at her touch."
"You didn't?"
"No, sweetling, I didn't. She was livid; she accused me of not being capable anymore," he said, snuggling closer to Brienne, who couldn't help but feel how capable she was of making him aroused.
Heat thrummed though her at the feel of his cock against her. "Mm, I've never noticed you having any difficulty," she said as she pressed herself against him, nipping his bottom lip before pushing her tongue between his lips to taste him. Yearnings long suppressed seemed to consume her, now that she was free to touch and be touched by the man she loved.
Brienne's natural shyness was no match for the freedom of no longer having to hold back her heart. She pulled Jaime on top of her, hips rising against him as he settled between her legs. Jaime kissed and nibbled his way down her neck, stopping to suckle the tender skin by her collarbone as he tried to work his hand under her tunic. Brienne pulled his shirt up enough to slide her hands under the waist of his breeches, gripping his ass in her hands to pull him harder against her legs rose around his hips. Both of them fell to breathlessly exploring; wanting and eager for more as they touched and felt each other, lost in the fervor of their desire.
"Too many clothes," Brienne gasped, reaching for the hem of Jaime's shirt and pulling it up, scratching her short nails along his back, feeling his muscles flex under the warm silk of his skin. Jaime braced himself on his hand, looking down at her with smoky green eyes as he positioned himself against her core; she could feel the length of him, his cock an unyielding hardness against her, aching under their layers of clothes. Brienne closed her eyes and moaned, turning her head to the side as Jaime ground against her, the heat of her desire spreading through her, engulfing her.
Jaime used his forearm to nudge her cheek, to turn her head, "Open your eyes and look at me," he said, his voice husky.
Brienne's heart fluttered seeing him watching her so intensely, his thick golden hair swinging down over his forehead, lips parted in a slight smile. Jaime thrust against her hard, repeating the motion again and again as she moaned and clutched the hard muscles of his arms, beginning to move with him as she learned his rhythm. Their breath was ragged and loud in the small room. The bed shifted and creaked beneath them, scraping the stone floor.
"Jaimeeee," Brienne moaned, drawing out the end of his name in a low moan. She didn't want to wait anymore, she wanted all of him, "My love, my -"
A knock sounded on the door, sounding so close in the tiny room that they froze, panting.
"Go away." Jaime said loudly, glaring at the door.
"Sealed message for you, Ser, from Lord Tyrion. He said to deliver it, um, no matter what you, er, threatened."
"Leave it outside the door," Jaime growled, "That little twerp's getting a bit too big for his breeches," he muttered to Brienne.
"Yes Ser, Ser Jaime. Right outside the door. Leaving it right here."
Brienne closed her eyes, arousal warring with alarm at the sudden intrusion. She had been so ready, so certain that this time they wouldn't stop. She was ready to give herself to Jaime at last, to finally know what it felt like to have him moving inside of her. She put her arm over her eyes, trying not to groan in frustration as Jaime got up and stalked over to the door. He opened it a few inches and reached down for the scroll Tyrion had sent.
"Conceited little imp," Jaime said, holding the scroll up to show Brienne the newly designed lion sigil impressed on the red wax. "Who would have thought he'd be the last Lannister with a shred of prestige? Tywin would be so proud."
Trying to will her own arousal to subside, Brienne saw that while Jaime's breeches still showed evidence of his own excitement, his focus had shifted to the scroll he held. He looked over at her before he broke the seal and smirked at how obviously she was pouting. "Poor Bearenne," he said, leaning over to kiss her forehead. "You look a little frustrated, sweetling. Be glad you don't have to leave and find a private place to get some relief, like I've had to do."
Brienne felt herself blush; her blood had not cooled at all and she didn't find it amusing.
"Have you ever done that?" he asked curiously.
"Done what?"
"Made yourself come. Used your hands to relieve yourself…haven't you ever gotten so aroused that you felt you were going to burst if you didn't do something about it?"
"Jaime…"
"Oh, I'm embarrassing you? If only you knew how many times you've tortured me into leaving our tent to go somewhere else and fantasize about you. I know you've seen cruder men do such things out in the open; did you not think I stroke my cock while thinking about you?"
Brienne's eyes were wide; the idea of Jaime working his hand up and down his shaft and thinking of her was so erotic that she felt her desire flare up even stronger.
"You haven't touched yourself and thought of me?" he asked, disappointment in his voice.
"No. I mean, yes, I have, some. But it's not easy to find a time or place to be alone and…in a good position…for such a thing." She looked way, embarrassed, "I'm not very good at it, either," her septa had left her with no doubt about what a repulsive habit touching oneself there was, "You seem to know more about how to touch me than I do myself," she admitted.
Jaime grinned, enjoying the conversation thoroughly, "I don't know how you've survived this long, if you've wanted me as long as I've wanted you. We have a lot of lost time to make up."
"Loras said we were dumb and craven," Brienne said, "for not being 'together' sooner."
"I don't want to know how he knows that, but he's probably right. Not too crazy about the idea of doing too much catching up on this bed, though."
"I don't think either of us wants to be near Cersei in the Maidenvault again."
"No," Jaime agreed, "Though if you ever do see Cersei molesting me again I hope you'll decide to defend my honor instead of running away."
"I promise," Brienne said, "if she lays a hand on you again and I'll knock her teeth out, just like you did to Red Ronnet. Now I know what you meant by doing it for yourself rather than for me."
Jaime laughed and sat down on the bed. Brienne curled around him like a large cat as he broke the seal on the scroll.
Honored Brother,
I hope this letter finds you in better spirits than you were last night.
After making inquiries I am told that Lady Brienne left the holdfast in the night and her bed in the Maidenvault has not been slept in. Presumably the lady is with you in your appalling room in Traitor's Walk.
As you are no longer under guard you will be expected to vacate that room so that it can be available to the next paunchy beggar or royal prisoner (or both) that needs it
I have arranged for new chambers in Maegor's Holdfast for you and Brienne. The Lady's possessions have already been packed up and transported. A servant will retrieve your items from Traitor's Walk.
Seek Lord Leyre in the Holdfast to be directed to your new rooms.
I left you a little something in the drawer of the writing table, big brother. Just in case.
The queen is expecting an answer to her "request" from Lady Brienne by tonight at the latest.
Yours,
Tyrion
Jaime rolled the scroll up, looking down at Brienne expectantly. She had nearly forgotten she hadn't told him about the dragons yet.
"Did Tyrion tell you I met with the queen?" she asked.
"He told me yesterday that you might, and Agnes said you rode out with her. What did she want from you? Tyrion said it was something dangerous."
Brienne sat up and leaned against the wall. "Her Grace has decided she wants me to train one of her dragons to carry someone in battle," she said.
"Train…aside from how seriously dangerous those beasts are, will that affect your going north with the rest of us?"
"Daenerys thinks I might be able to train him before the army leaves, but if I don't try to train the dragon she threatened to separate us. Separate us and make you responsible for Cersei; force you to share your tent with her."
"Daenerys must want Cersei dead after all, then," Jaime said, "Tyrion said she might try to use me as leverage to get you to do what she wanted, but this is mad even for her. Fuck. What do you get from her if you manage to train the beast and not end up being some dragon's toasted treat?"
"If I can train him she'll let us travel north and fight together as we always have, but later she might want me to fly Viserion in battle. The queen told me If I make an effort to train him and fail, assuming I survive, she'll still allow me go north with you and the army."
"You haven't agreed to any of this yet, have you?"
"No, I wanted to talk to you first. I was hoping you might see something that I'm missing."
"I see that there's no way you're getting mixed up with dragons, Brienne. How could the queen even think to risk your life like that? Have you met those monsters? Is that where you went yesterday?
"I did get to meet them at the dragon pit." Brienne said, "I got to pet Viserion, he's the white and gold one."
"Pet him? You mean the way you pet Sean?"
"Well, yes, rather like that. He durred, Jaime."
"'Durred'?"
"It's like a cat's purr, but louder."
"You do realize that to something the size of a dragon you're just prey, like a mouse to a cat? Please tell me you aren't starting to think they're cute."
"Just a little cute, maybe." Brienne smiled, remembering about how sweet Viserion was when he durred and asked for pets, "I know they're dangerous. They've killed other trainers. Men. Apparently they aren't keen on men in particular. They hate Jorah Mormont."
"Everyone hates Jorah Mormont."
"Poor Jorah. Maybe they should pair him up with Cersei?"
"I'll suggest it to Tyrion. It would get them both out of everyone's hair. If we're lucky they'll kill each other." Jaime said, "Sweetling, are you actually thinking you would be able to train this creature and not die doing it?"
Brienne took a deep breath, "Viserion, really seemed to take to me. Dragons have been ridden in battle before, you know; during Aegon the Conqueror's reign he and his sisters Visenya and Rhaenys flew dragons in battle. Just because Daenerys is incompetent doesn't mean they can't be trained. She admitted herself that she over-indulged them when they were little and did nothing to rein them in."
"I know you're good with animals, my love, but a dragon isn't a like anything you've ever worked with. It wouldn't be like getting thrown from a horse, or even kicked by one."
"I know, Jaime. I don't know what to tell the queen, but I don't see a way out of it. I can't bear for us to be parted; we need to protect each other fighting the Others."
"I think you're intrigued by the thought of working with this Viserion," Jaime said, "You think you're going to charm that over-grown lizard into doing whatever you want."
"Just like I charmed you," Brienne said, giving him a shy smile.
Jaime leaned over and kissed her nose, "I wouldn't blame it for being smitten with you, but you've never asked to ride me into battle, either."
"Bet you'd let me ride you if I wanted to," Brienne said daringly.
"Wench, you can ride me all day long," Jaime said, and she could see by the way his eyes darkened that her jape had hit its mark. Brienne relished the thought that she could have such an effect on him with just her words.
"What do you think I should do, Jaime?"
"Hm, to start with, I think you should take off all of your clothes…"
Brienne shoved him. "I meant about the dragon!"
"You could ride naked," he suggested.
"Still talking about the dragon, here."
"Oh. Too bad." Jaime laughed. "Maybe we can negotiate with Daenerys for something more than the privilege of fighting the Others together, as we were doing before she had me dragged back here."
"What could we ask for?"
"For one, if you're still working with the dragon when it's time to leave, I have to stay here with you. I don't want you on the road without me. I'd also need to be nearby when you work with it, to try to keep you safe. We can ask Tyrion is he has any ideas."
"Is Tyrion on our side?"
"Yes, I'm certain he is. Speaking of which, should we go see our new chambers?"
"Yes, but I need to eat first. I'm starving."
"Me, too, but I'm still not hungry enough for liver and lungs."
"Me, neither."
"Let's stop by the dining hall anyway, see what they have."
They donned their cloaks, belts and boots and paused in the doorway looking at the little room for the final time.
"We did have some fun in here," Jaime said.
"We'll have even more fun somewhere else," said Brienne, tugging his belt to lead him to the stairs.
"I wonder where Hemikh and Lavakhat are, now that they don't have to guard me."
"I'm sure we'll see them soon. Will you miss Helyn?" asked Brienne.
"Remind me to tell you how helpful she was when I was looking for you," said Jaime.
They left Traitor's Walk without a backwards glance. They saw there were few other people present when they entered the dining hall. Steering clear of the table from the night before, they chose a spot still well away from other people and sat down side by side.
Jaime pulled Brienne in for a kiss, which turned into several kisses. Brienne quickly forgot to be self-conscious in public, and before long they were so absorbed in what they were doing that the servant who came over had to greet them twice.
They parted reluctantly and looked up at the woman.
Jenna stood, hands on hips, looking at them with her lips pursed. Brienne blushed furiously, but Jaime began to laugh.
"Well met, Jenna," he said, still chuckling, "I believe you've met my Lady, Brienne of Tarth?"
"Aye," Jenna said, one ginger eyebrow rising all the way up into her hairline, "M'lady."
Brienne scarcely recognized Jenna from the night before, but assumed the woman had seen her when she was getting drunk.
"What can I get for you two? Rum? Wine? Moon tea?"
"You serve that here? Ow!" Jaime said, grimacing as Brienne stomped on his instep, "No, thank you Jenna. The lady had her fill of alcohol last night. We'd like to order something to eat."
"Worked up an appetite, I expect," Jenna said, not quite under her breath. "I'll have to cook something for you myself since the regular cook's off duty just now. I'm not quite sure how to cook them pigs' feet, though, if you're wanting those."
"What a shame," Jaime said, nudging Brienne, who was still hanging her head in embarrassment. "When you had your own inn, Jenna, what did you like to cook?"
"We served a lot of goat, Ser, but they've none in these kitchens. I could make you up some biscuits with thick pork sausage gravy, and I think I saw some fresh eggs come in. They put 'em to the back so we use up the old ones first, but I like cooking with the fresh ones better. I nearly gagged the first day I was here, Ser, the smell was that bad. You think they'd know better than to let a chick half develop in the kitchen's heat and then try to cook it a fortnight later. It was all kinda soupy and slimy-like."
Jaime noticed that Brienne's blush was becoming a slight green tinge as Jenna talked. "Biscuits and fresh eggs would be just the thing, my lady," he said hastily.
"And how would you like those eggs cooked, Ser Jaime?"
"Sweetling?" Jaime asked Brienne.
"Oh, I don't know, Jaime-bear," she answered, a flicker in her eyes that might have been amusement, "can my Big Boo choose for us?"
"Big Boo? Who's…? Oh! Me, right. Scrambled, please."
Jenna had narrowed her eyes at them, beginning to sense there was something more going on than she already suspected.
"As you wish. I'll have those to you soon." She headed for the kitchen, shaking her head.
"What was that all about?" Brienne hissed.
"When I came in here last night I happened to sit at the same table you'd been at earlier. When Jenna came over I asked her if she'd seen you, and she told me you were in here drinking and crying because of 'man trouble,'"
"Oh."
"Yes, and then she said your 'man' came in and made it all better. She described Ser Dwayne."
"Oh?"
"Yes, and then she described Loras, and mentioned that Dryp – er, I mean, Dwayne, almost carried you out of here. But that wasn't the worst part."
"Gods, there's more?"
"When I told her I knew you, she asked if I was a relative, like an uncle or something."
Brienne laughed, "Oh, Jaime, surely not!"
"Yes. And now she sees you here, kissing the old man that was looking for you, and the other two are nowhere to be seen."
"So I look like a trollop and you seem an old lecher. Well done, us." Brienne leaned over and kissed him, a long, lingering kiss that she hoped would soothe his wounded pride.
"You're not helping that bad reputation you're getting, you know," Jaime said when she stopped, "but I'm quite enjoying being the reason for it."
"Most of it, anyway," she grinned. "How are you feeling about what happened last night, before I came to your room?"
Jaime's smile wavered, "Wench, it really was awful seeing you in another man's bed, even though I knew what drove you there."
Brienne knew he didn't want to ask her if anything happened in Dwayne's room, even though he desperately wanted her assurance that nothing had. Guilt flooded her for not telling him earlier that he worried over nothing.
"You need never doubt me, Jaime. Loras slept in the middle and nothing happened in that bed while I was there. After I left, who knows?" She reached out and pushed a lock of hair back from his forehead, "I'm grateful to them for looking out for me, though. Did Loras tell you I got sick? That's why I was wearing Dwayne's tunic."
"No, he didn't mention that. How did they get you into his tunic?"
"I don't remember any of that," Brienne admitted, "but I'm sure it was all very proper."
"So, Loras and Dwayne, they're together?"
"Not yet, but Loras was hoping."
Jaime nodded, looking relieved, "I'll be happy for Loras if it works out. Does Dwayne seem to be, uh, his type?"
"I've rather thought so. My sense about that sort of thing is sharper since I found out about Renly and Loras. Ser Dwayne's not obvious, but I have noticed him looking over our fair Loras often enough."
"It would be good for Loras, to fall in love again." Jaime said.
"It would," Brienne agreed. "Oh, good, here comes our food."
Jenna set plates down before them, "I brought some bacon for you as well. Everyone loves bacon."
"Thank you," said Brienne, making herself meet Jenna's eyes.
Jenna smiled, "I asked about you two back in the kitchen," she said, "I only got bits and pieces, but I hear there's a song about you and everything. So the young men last night…?"
"Were just friends." Brienne said.
"And the man trouble?"
"That was me," Jaime admitted, trying not to smile.
"Alright, then. You enjoy your breakfast." Jenna said, smiling as she went to wait on another diner. Amused with the exchange, they ate the food she had brought them and were pleasantly surprised by how tasty it was.
"There is something to be said for eggs without decomposed chicks in them," Jaime said around a mouthful of biscuit smothered in thick gravy.
"You'll be spoiled for the salt fish and onion stew of the road." Brienne said, examining the perfect crispness of a slice of bacon, "Maybe Jenna could come with us?"
"Don't be cruel. She told me she came here with her family to escape the worst of the winter."
"Ah, best leave her be, then."
Mopping up the last of his gravy with a bit of biscuit, Jaime asked, "Ready to go see the new chambers?"
"Mm, am I ever," Brienne said, then leaned over to whisper in his ear, "I think I was promised a hot bath, and it's long overdue."
Jaime shivered at her warm breath in his ear, "Even if I have to carry the water myself, Wench, you'll get your bath. I think you promised to wash something of mine."
"I did?"
Jaime raised his eyebrows at her, the deep grooves of his dimples making Brienne's blood race as his smile grew sharper, "Something you were concerned might have been soiled by someone else?" he prompted.
Oh, she mouthed, "I thought you said something of yours," she said, trying to be nonchalant.
"Yours." Jaime confirmed, climbing over the bench and offering her his hand.
Jaime kept her hand in his as they made their trek across the bailey and up the steps to the Holdfast. When they crossed the dry moat Brienne averted her eyes from the spiked heads. She'd seen enough of death and gore in the Riverlands and on the battlefield to last her the rest of her life without seeing more senseless brutality on display.
Jaime quickly located Lord Leyre in his office, surrounded by scrolls and quills. Leyre looked up and saw the couple holding hands and allowed himself a sardonic smirk.
"Ser Jaime, Lady Brienne," he greeted them, coming out from behind his ornately carved desk. "I trust you are feeling better, young lady?" he said sternly to Brienne.
"Yes, my Lord," she said meekly, feeling about ten years old.
"Glad to hear it," he said, though his tone of voice left her in some doubt. "I assume you are here for the chambers Tyrion had readied for you," he picked a key off of the desk and walked past them, "Follow me."
They walked behind the steward as he led them down one long corridor after another. Jaime squeezed Brienne's hand and gave her a reassuring smile. Their rooms were on the other side of the hold from the royal apartments, something they had Tyrion to thank for. Neither wanted to run into Daenerys, and Jaime had spent far too much of his time in the Kingsguard standing outside of the royal chambers.
When they stopped in front of a set of double doors Leyre presented the key to Jaime, bowed briefly and walked away, though not before they glimpsed the indulgent smile he was trying to hide.
This moment seemed important to Brienne, standing there before the threshold of the room they would share. She would enter this room a maid, but she did not plan to leave it as one. Did Jaime sense her resolve? Guess her thoughts? Would she need to convince him that, to her, honor was a far more complex thing than whether or not she was a maiden? Beyond that door, a new phase of her life with Jaime would begin.
Besides, she wanted him. All of him.
Jaime unlocked the door and stepped aside for her to enter first.
Their new chambers had two rooms, with the first being a smallish sort of parlor to relax in with guests or answer correspondence at the small writing desk. Its colors were muted cream and gold with deep, rich blues running throughout. The furniture was ornate but tasteful, with hand carved accents in oak. The cushions on chairs and couch were upholstered in fine old brocades with pastoral scenes rendered in a style that had been popular over a hundred years before. Several rugs covered the stone floor. Many had the worn, shiny look of age, while others probably weren't much older than fifteen years or so, coming from the more prosperous years of Robert Baratheon's reign, fine woven and featuring far too many stags.
The bed chamber was separated from the smaller room by huge draperies that matched the fabric in the first room. These had been gathered by wide swathes of solid colored cloth which could be unhooked for privacy. Within the chamber a bed that would have seemed high off the ground to anyone shorter than Jaime and Brienne dominated the space. A huge oak frame supported the double mattress, its pillars rising nearly to the high ceiling. More draperies hung from the canopy and were similarly tied back. A dressing table with a tall mirror stood against one wall, while a large hearth surrounded by veined white rock dominated the wall adjacent to the bed. Two chests of drawers and a blanket chest at the foot of the bed completed the room.
Set in an arched alcove connected to the bed chamber sat an enormous hammered copper tub, both ends rising into curved backrests forged to look like waves gracefully cresting over the sides. A small two-tiered table in front of the tub was stocked with soap, jars and a large dried sea sponge, with several rolled towels on the bottom shelf. The alcove's thick stone walls were interspersed with deep niches, each containing a fat yellow candle.
"Thank you, Tyrion," Jaime murmured in awe.
"It's beautiful," Brienne said, "but wherever did he find such a large tub?"
"At a guess I would say this one was made to accommodate more than a couple of bathers. I don't know what reign it's from, but I wouldn't be surprised if this tub was just the first course in many a royal orgy." Jaime turned to Brienne, his eyes glinting, "We'll put it to good use ourselves, won't we?"
Brienne nodded. As many times as she had imagined their bath in Harrenhal ending with something other than just helping Jaime to get dressed, the thought of being naked with him in this tub was making her both aroused and nervous.
Jaime rose up on the balls of his feet to kiss her lips, "Unless you have something else you want to do, Wench, I'm going to get this filled for us."
She followed him to a bell pull that would call a servant to their room. He was used to the way things were done here, and she was happy to let him take the lead. Brienne picked her brush up from where it had been set on a dressing table and began to run it through her hair. With time and care the stringy straw her hair had been when she first met Jaime had grown out and gotten softer. Even with the lack of sun it was still palest yellow, and though it was thicker than it had been, it would always be fine, each strand thin and straight.
Brienne tried not to envy women like Cersei with naturally thick, wavy hair. There were so many things about her looks she could not change, but with time and Jaime's regard she'd learned not to fret about her appearance around him. Of course, that had been when they were only 'friends'; being absolutely naked before him was something she was only beginning to get used to. Even though she had felt undesirable for so much of her life, her disbelief that Jaime wanted her was fading fast. It felt like they had been moving toward loving each other openly for a long time.
Brienne turned from her musings to find Jaime sitting on the bed, watching her as she slowly stroked the brush through her hair. He held his hand out to her and she went to him.
"Are you ready, my love?" he asked.
She took a deep breath and nodded, "I'm ready."
A knock on the door announced the arrival of a servant, and Jaime charged him with preparing their bath. Soon a line of strong young men toting buckets of hot water came quietly through their chambers, filling the tub. Clouds of steam rose, smelling of jasmine oil. The first servant stayed to light the candles in the alcove and the bed chamber and to ask if anything further was needed. Jaime dismissed him with a gesture. Even though Brienne was highborn, she had never mastered the combination of arrogance and disdain that the Lannister siblings seemed born to wield.
When the door closed behind the servant Jaime walked over and locked it. He strode back and taking her hand, led her to the alcove. Stopping just short of the space to give her a smile that would have made her knees weak if they hadn't already been trembling, he reached for her long belt, deftly unlooping it single handed and tossing it behind them. Brienne did the same for his, sliding her hands down his slim hips as she unwound it. Taking the hem of his long shirt she pulled it up slowly, admiring the rippled planes of his stomach, the hair on his chest, his broad shoulders. She tugged the shirt over his head and watched his hair fall back over his shoulders. He was watching her, pupils so large and dark his eyes looked almost black.
She nuzzled the stubble growing on his cheek and jaw, then brushed her lips down his neck, kissing the apple of his throat as he let his head fall back with a groan. Brienne brushed a fingertip over one of his small, hard nipples, taking it between her lips as he shivered with pleasure. She teased the other nipple with her fingers as she sucked and bit at the small bud.
Jaime reached for the edge of her tunic and began raising it slowly, following its progress with his lips, kissing each new bit of bared skin, the rough hair on his face making Brienne tingle as he moved. She surrendered to the way he was making her feel; heat was throbbing at her core, her smallclothes already damp from wanting him so much. She helped him lift the tunic over her head. It followed his shirt and the belts onto the floor.
Wrapping his right arm around her waist he brought her close so that he could take her breast into the wet heat of his mouth while he rolled her other nipple between his fingers, pinching and pulling it as she gasped against him. She anchored her fingers in his hair and watched as he sucked and licked at her, the sight of her nipple becoming swollen and flushed from his mouth sending waves of longing and lust through her. Jaime looked up through his lashes, giving her breast a light nip.
As he latched onto her right breast he rubbed his forearm over the slickness he'd left on the other, the ridged scars at the end of his forearm sliding over sensitive skin, her nipple firm against the tender flesh where his pulse beat, rapid and strong. Brienne was certain she wouldn't survive another second of the sensations he was creating when he moved his mouth down between her ribs and over the firm swell of her stomach to the waist of her breeches.
He used his teeth to pull the tie holding them closed and loosened the laces with his fingers. He slid her breeches down slowly, following with tongue and teeth. She stepped out of them and they were tossed aside as well. Kneeling now, Jaime ran his fingernails through the hair at the juncture of her thighs before pushing two fingers between her legs, working them between the lips of her slit.
"Gods, my love, you are so wet for me," Jaime whispered, lowering his head to kiss her and taste the moisture there with the tip of his tongue. Brienne nearly staggered back as his tongue flicked against her sensitive flesh, surprised by the intensity of her body's reaction to his touch.
He grinned up at her, his eyes full of mischief, "We'll save that for later, Wench, when I can hold you down and make sure you can't get away." He stood up next to her, tangling his hand in her hair at the nape of her neck and kissing her deeply, his tongue swirling around hers, letting her taste her own desire for him.
Not breaking the kiss, Brienne reached down to undo his breeches. She could feel the proof of his desire pushing against the confines of the worn leather. Pulling away from his kiss, she looked at the outline of his cock curving up against his laces and rubbed the palm of her hand up its length and back again. Jaime moaned and leaned into her as she deftly undid his ties and pulled the last of his clothing off. She stepped back a bit to admire him. He smiled, biting his lower lip as her eyes roved over him slowly. She had seen him naked before, of course, but never like this.
Jaime was not especially modest, and she had seen his cock several times, but other than shy glimpses of it in the Maidenvault she had never gotten a good look at it when it was hard. It stood out from his body, long and thick and curving up a little to its wide head.
Jaime watched as she stepped closer and brushed her fingers along the top from root to crown, pausing to pass her thumb through the drop of wetness glistening at the tip, spreading it gently over the head of it. Jaime's head went back and he moaned her name deep in his throat as she traced the ridge on the underside with her thumb, loving the way it throbbed and swelled at her touch. She lightly cupped his balls, wrapping her other hand around the shaft of his cock and moving it up toward the head, tightening her grip as she felt Jaime tense and shudder.
"You need to stop," Jaime said in a strained voice.
Brienne stopped the motion of her hand, but didn't let go, "You're right. Let's get this thing washed before we go any further."
Jaime grinned at her boldness, gently unwrapping her fingers so that he could thread his fingers through them instead. He led her to the steaming tub and motioned for her to get in first. The water was hot and silky on her skin, the scent of jasmine delicate and exotic. Though she brought her legs up to her chest to give Jaime room to get in, she could tell they would both be able to stretch out as they faced each other.
He settled into the water with a happy groan and sank up past his shoulders, his hair floating up around him. Brienne stretched out her legs, sliding one under and one over his. As the water lapped up around her collarbone she sighed and closed her eyes, enjoying the feel of their legs sliding against each other sensuously. They soaked for long minutes, letting the water relax them and temper the almost unbearable erotic tension of moments ago.
Jaime picked up a ball of soap, and then used his legs and right arm to raise one of Brienne's feet and brace it against his chest. He rubbed the soap over her foot and then set it back down on its little dish on the table. Using his fingers he lathered and spread the soap along her foot, between her toes and up her calf, working his way along the length of her leg. The soap soon dissipated in the water, but he continued to move his hand and forearm up Brienne's thigh as she watched him through half-open eyes.
When he reached the juncture of her thighs she closed her eyes and leaned her head against the sloping backrest. Though she was expecting it, his touch ghosting over her slit still made her wriggle away before she could make herself still again. Jaime had touched her there before, had made her writhe and climax on their bed in the Maidenvault; it was not a difficult decision to let him do whatever he wanted now.
She felt his fingers push inside the lips of her cunt and stroke her folds. When he touched the swollen bud of her clit and slid his thumb over it she bit her lip and arched her back. She could hear a breathless laugh from him over how responsive she was.
"I'm going to do something I haven't done to you before," he said, "it won't hurt, I promise."
He brushed two fingers down to her entrance and paused there, waiting for her to open her eyes and look at him. He hooked one of her legs over his shoulder, opening her further to him. Turning his hand palm up, he slid a finger inside of her. Their eyes locked as he brought it most of the way back out and then slid it back in, repeating the motion again and again. Brienne knew this motion was what fucking was about, but his finger was quite different than his cock, which seemed improbably big to get in where his finger was now. He pulled out and then slid two fingers in together; it didn't hurt, but she could feel a slight stretching of her skin. Moving his thumb onto her nub again he caressed it in slow circles. Between the intense stimulation and the feel of his fingers in her cunt Brienne gasped and moaned at the hot pleasure spreading through her. Jaime grinned and withdrew his hand, then helped her take her leg off his shoulder.
"Gods, just watching you get this excited is going to kill me. You have no idea how often I've dreamed of touching you like this." He said.
Brienne smiled and moved closer to Jaime, pressing him back against his side of the tub, straddling him. Her nipples brushed his chest, growing taut as the cool air dried them. Jaime urged her above him so he could take a nipple into his mouth, rolling it between his teeth while flicking his tongue against it as she arched into him.
Brienne finally pulled away to pick up the ball of soap from the table. She rolled the slippery ball between her hands and then smoothed her soapy hands over his chest, swirling her fingers through his hair.
She began teasing Jaime by sliding herself slowly back and forth from his upper thighs to his belly, letting her thatch rub against his cock where it lay hard against stomach. Jaime groaned and sank lower in the tub, letting his head fall back until the water lapped through his hair and over his forehead. He held onto Brienne's hip as she moved on him, learning what he liked as she watched, finding that the ecstasy on his face only heightened her own.
Jaime's hand flexed and dug harder into her hip as he rose against her, and with a shuddering moan he half opened his eyes to watch her moving above him.
"Wench, unless you're trying to make me come right now, you need to stop that." He said as she ground against him, the head of his cock nearly at her entrance. Brienne hesitated, considering whether she wanted this to be the moment and the way he entered her, deciding reluctantly to slide away from him.
"I want you, Jaime," she said breathlessly as he sat up a little higher in the tub, "I want you inside of me, I need to feel you moving in me."
Jaime raised his hand to her cheek, "Brienne, my love, are you sure that's what you want right now?"
"Maybe it would be better on the bed?" she suggested.
"I meant, right now, today? Are you ready for that?"
"Yes, Jaime," Brienne said, starting to wonder if he was going to be stubborn. She hadn't thought he would need convincing.
"Let's get out of the tub and talk about this a minute…" he said.
"Talk." Brienne muttered, taking a towel off of the shelf. She lifted herself off of Jaime and carefully stepped out of the tub. Jaime stepped out after her, and seeing the confusion in her eyes he kissed her ardently.
"Sweetling, don't think for a second that I don't want this. But your first time – this is your first time?"
Brienne nodded impatiently, not even noticing the flash of relief in his eyes.
"I want your first time to be perfect, my love. Not just to please me,"
"Jaime…" Brienne said, almost rolling her eyes.
"And not just because you're impatient for it…"
"Yes, because I'm impatient for it!"
"Okay, okay," Jaime laughed, taking his towel and wrapping it around her shoulders to dry the water still streaming down her body and onto the floor. She swung her towel over his head and rubbed at his wet hair vigorously before draping it over his shoulders.
"Take me to bed, Jaime. I mean it."
"See, if you'd been able to relieve some of that tension over the years like I have–"
Brienne's bravery was starting to crumple under Jaime's jests, and the sudden tears in her eyes made him ashamed.
"I'm sorry, my love," he said, leading her over by the bed. "I'm nervous, too. I just want it to be everything you hoped,"
"Jaime, it's you. That's all I've ever wanted."
Jaime took a deep breath and stepped in to kiss her when there was a knock at the doors.
"Every single time!" he said, turning toward the door, "Go the fuck away!" he shouted.
"Sorry, Ser," a male voice called from the other side of the door, "Message for you by raven, Ser!"
"Go on, it might be important," Brienne said, though she looked doubtful and annoyed.
Jaime wrapped the towel around his waist and walked to the door. Brienne couldn't hear what was said, but Jaime soon closed the door. He dropped two scrolls on the writing desk without looking at them and came back to her.
"Are you dry enough now? Let me put these towels back by the bath," he said.
He looked more serious than ever as he came back to stand in front of her. He leaned in and kissed her, drawing her into it, holding her against him. Brienne felt their desire kindling again as their naked bodies pressed together. She hoped Jaime had stopped questioning her resolve.
He pulled away from her at last, searching her eyes.
"Wench," Jaime sighed, "Brienne, my love, this isn't the way – it's not the way I wanted to do this."
Brienne's breath caught in her throat, unsure of what he was telling her. Had she done something wrong? Why didn't he?
Jaime sank to his knees and pressed his bowed head to her, his wet hair chill against her stomach. After a moment he looked up and reached for her right hand, drawing it to his mouth to kiss before he placed her palm against his heart. She could feel it thrumming beneath his skin, fast and strong.
"I wanted to do this right, to fight you and make you yield for the right to ask for your hand," Jaime said, his eyes large and dark with feeling, "I know this isn't the romantic proposal you deserve, my love. Will you marry me, Brienne?"
Brienne sank to her knees before him, overwhelmed and unable to speak for long seconds. She nodded, gazing at him through the blur of tears gathering in her eyes.
"Yes." She said simply, and he gathered her to him and they held each other. After a while Brienne laughed a little and said, "You were going to fight me?"
"It's what you've said any suitor would need to do to wed you: best you at swordplay."
"I haven't thought of that in a long time, Jaime. I made that rule up to keep my father from trying to betroth me again."
"You mean if I had really attacked you when we were sparring and tried to beat you into yielding…?"
"I would have wondered what in the seven hells had gotten into you."
Jaime laughed a long while, finally stifling his mirth against her shoulder. "What if your father had tried to betroth you again? Would you have insisted on a fight then?"
"Jaime, I would marry no one but you."
"What if something happened to me? If I were killed?"
"Please don't ever say something like that; I could not bear it. I meant that even if you and I parted and never had this, I don't think I could bear to be bound to another man."
"You will always be mine, and I yours, Bearenne, I promise. Now let's get off the floor, my knees are too old for this. You sure you want to marry an old man like me?"
"I love you; to me you are perfect. Besides, when you were a few years younger you were not exactly appealing," she said, getting up to sit on the bed.
"I was quite an ass when you first met me," Jaime admitted.
"And sometimes you still are," Brienne smiled as he got on the bed as well, "but I adore you all the same."
Jaime stretched out on his side and pulled Brienne down to lie facing him. He kissed her tenderly, "I adore you, too, Bearenne."
