Jaime woke up first, opening his eyes to the glow of candlelight and hearth. Their chambers had no windows, but Jaime guessed it was some time in the late afternoon. For long moments he lay next to Brienne, savoring the dreamlike memory of the last few hours and watching her sleep. She looked like a woman who had just been well-loved; naked and sated, hair mussed and tangled around her like a skein of silk.

Easing off the bed, Jaime noticed how weak his legs felt when he stood. Leaving Brienne to doze, he went into the parlor to look at the scrolls he'd received.

Jaime sat down on the chair in front of the writing desk, the elaborate embroidery of the cushion unpleasantly scratchy on his naked skin. The scroll from Tobho Mott had been delivered by messenger rather than raven, and Mott's familiar crossed daggers over flame sigil in gray wax made Jaime smile as he broke the seal.

The scroll was smudged with soot and the message short, written in Toby's blunt handwriting:

Ser Jaime,

Moira and I look forward to meeting your warrior woman on the morrow, if that suits. Come while there is still enough daylight to see the shop, and stay to dine with us in the evening.

Tobho Mott

Jaime grinned and set the note aside, thinking of Brienne's face when she beheld the wonders of Toby's forge. After the teasing he had taken from the smith and his wife about the wench, he looked forward to being able to introduce Brienne as his betrothed.

Shifting in the seat and wondering if the idyllic harvest scene on the cushion would be indented in his ass when he got up, Jaime reached for the scroll from Lord Selwyn. For Brienne's sake he hoped the scroll contained the Lord of Tarth's consent to his betrothal request. Even though they intended to wed with or without her father's blessing, Jaime knew she would prefer her father be pleased with her choice.

There were two pieces to the scroll from the Evenstar: a protective outer scroll of waxed parchment bearing the embossed crescent moon and starbursts sigil of Tarth addressed to "Ser Jaime Lannister, the Red Keep" and an inner scroll. Jaime unrolled the parchment inside just enough to set a small pot of ink on the top to keep it from curling while he used his hand to smooth out the rest.

Ser Jaime Lannister,

I must admit to a sense of trepidation when Maester Grithern came from the rookery bearing no less than six scrolls from the Red Keep. To my relief, the first scroll I opened did not contain tidings of war or demands from the new Targaryen queen. Nor, thankfully, was it grave news about my beloved daughter.

That it was a request for my consent to a betrothal between yourself and Brienne left me somewhat bemused. Fearing the remaining five scrolls might contain news of a more dire nature I set aside your scroll to open them as well.

Imagine my amusement when all of them contained the same request.

As I understand it, Ser Jaime, you and my Brienne have been inseparable for quite a long time. Astonished as I was to receive multiple ravens requesting permission to marry my daughter, I am more surprised that it took you this long.

While the evident affection you bear for Brienne does you credit, I fear that I cannot consent to any betrothal for her. It is for Brienne to decide if she wishes to marry, and to whom.

I look forward to receiving a (single) raven informing me of her decision. Please tell her that her old father misses her terribly.

Lord Selwyn Tarth, Evenstar

Below his signature he had added:

A seventh and I hope final, bedraggled raven has just arrived as well. Please tell Brienne the maester says the bird is expected to survive; I know she will be relieved.

Jaime chuckled at this last bit; Lord Selwyn knew his daughter well. He got the feeling that he would enjoy having him as a good father. Gods be good, perhaps he would even get to meet him someday.

But for now he and Brienne needed to plan out their negotiations with the queen about training Viserion. Jaime opened the drawer of the writing desk looking for paper and saw the small packet Tyrion had left for them. Taking it out and unfolding the thin cloth, he beheld a small wooden box. Upon opening it he began to chuckle. The longer he thought about what his brother had seen fit to leave them the louder his laughter got.

"Jaime?" Brienne asked, emerging from the bed chamber, gloriously naked and flushed with sleep, "What are you laughing about?"

Jaime looked over with a wide grin, not bothering to hide his thorough inspection of her as she paused between the bed chamber and the parlor. She looked for a moment like she would duck behind the draperies separating the rooms, but she smiled bashfully and walked over to him. No one would ever suspect the sure elegance Brienne moved with when she held a sword if they saw only her usual graceless gait. Jaime found it especially endearing that the obvious soreness between her legs from their bedding had made her steps somewhat

He held up the box, biting his lip, "From Tyrion," he said, "it's Moon Tea and instructions on how to prepare it."

Brienne put her hands on her hips, trying to look annoyed, but the smirk spreading over Jaime's face soon had her shaking with laughter herself.

"And how, Ser Jaime, does he know we suddenly need such a thing?"

Jaime looked sheepish as he peered up at her through the hair that had fallen over his brow; he well knew that Brienne could never resist him the expression.

"I might have mentioned that I was planning to ask you to marry me soon."

"Go on."

"And he may have ferreted it out of me that we had never actually fucked before."

"By the seven, Jaime," Brienne said, "now I not only have the embarrassment of facing my future good brother after you've told me about his enormous cock, but I have to endure his knowing that we've just fucked for the first time as well?"

"I could tell him there's no need for the moon tea and give it back," Jaime suggested.

Brienne groaned, "Keep the tea; it will save you the time and embarrassment of trying to get some for me later."

"Why would I be embarrassed?" Jaime asked, holding his hand out to her, "I was thinking I should make an announcement to the whole court that I have finally taken your maidenhead. Though no one would believe me; everyone thinks I besmirched you long ago."

"You are as rotten as your little brother!" Brienne said, giving him her hand.

Jaime pulled her onto his lap, nearly oversetting the chair. Brienne frantically tried to stand up again.

"Oh no, Wench, you're not leaving," Jaime said, wrapping his arms tightly around her waist.

"But we'll break the chair!" she said, trying to wriggle away from him.

"These chairs are built to sustain the weight of very fat courtiers, so I think it can hold us," he said, kissing her neck, "but if you keep rubbing your ass on my cock trying to get away we might have to put it to a use for which it was never really intended."

Brienne felt him swelling against her and abruptly stopped struggling.

"I didn't say to stop," Jaime murmured against her neck, "though if you would straddle me it would make it easier to…"

"Um, maybe later," Brienne said, trying to pull away. Jaime lowered his head to take one of her nipples into his mouth and she stuttered out, "Really, Jaime, my love, the scrolls? I'd like to know what my father wrote before you start trying to seduce me again…"

Jaime released her nipple with a wet-sounding smack, "So I can seduce you again after you read the scroll? What are you waiting for then, Wench? Get off of me and I'll bring it to the bed."

Brienne stood up, frowning, "Maybe you could wait until after we decide what to tell the queen? How late do you think it is right now?"

Jaime stood, "Late enough that we should talk about that for a bit as well." He looked ruefully down at his cock, "not like we aren't used to waiting," he said and gathered up Lord Selwyn's scroll.

Brienne tilted her head and considered him with a smile before leading the way back to the bed. She got under the covers and he followed, handing her the scroll as he slid in next to her.

Brienne unrolled the parchment and began to read, frowning a little when she saw her father had only received six of the seven scrolls, then smiling as she read the teasing way her father had answered Jaime. Her eyes were shining with emotion as she read that her father missed her; clearly she missed him as well.

After reading the postscript about the final raven, she kissed Jaime on the cheek.

"Lucky for you they all survived," she said, "I'm also glad that my father has given his consent."

"But he didn't, really," Jaime said, "He left that up to you."

"You don't know him yet, Sweetling; he only said that because he thought it would fool me into thinking he was giving me a choice. If he didn't approve of the betrothal he would have said so. I can tell from his words that he is well pleased with you," Brienne said, setting the scroll on the side table, "As am I."

"Does he believe you would obey him if he'd refused my request?"

"It's difficult to imagine him not agreeing to a betrothal between us. He has probably been expecting you to write since the first time he heard a song about us. I do hope it wasn't that really nasty one with the bear pelt…"

"Or the one where we were fucking on a horse while…"

"Ew, maybe it was the one where we're supposedly sparring naked in front of all those…"

"Mm, I kinda like that one," Jaime said, "I've always enjoyed picturing you naked when we spar."

"Jaime!" Brienne said, laughing and pushing his arms away when he tried to pull her on top of him, "Nobody spars naked."

"I didn't say I pictured you sparring naked, I just said I picture you naked when we spar," he grinned, still trying to pull her onto his chest. "Ever since that dream I had of you naked with a sword I just can't help it. Watching you fight just makes me want you more."

With a final tug and a little less resistance from Brienne he managed to position her so she was half lying across him, her wide eyes staring into his.

"You can't tell me you don't feel it too, when we fight together," Jaime said, stroking her tangled hair as he gazed into her eyes, "Whether we're fighting side by side or facing each other sparring. Tell me it's never crossed your mind how good we'd be in bed together."

"Jaime, I had to be drunk just to find the courage to kiss you. As often as I dreamed of doing more with you, imagining something I never thought to have with you… Sometimes it was just better not to think about it too much."

"I love you, Brienne," Jaime said, "You know that, right? I don't ever want you to doubt that you are the most beautiful, precious thing in the world to me, my future wife."

Brienne smiled down at him, and Jaime felt warmed through, happier than he could remember.

"I know we need to talk about the dragon, my love," he said, "but maybe we should talk about getting married. Have you thought about our wedding?"

"I admit that I haven't really," Brienne said, "I know that sounds bad, but I'm not like most girls that way. I was never one to imagine what my wedding would be like. Dresses and decorations always seemed so tedious to me."

Jaime laughed, "Maybe we could get married in our armor, then. I think we'd be the first. I'm sorry that your father won't be able to travel to see you wed, though."

"He could come if we waited until winter ended," Brienne mused.

Jaime looked worried, "Surely you don't want to wait that long, do you?"

"No, Sweetling. I just wish he could see us wed. How soon do you think we should get married?"

"A couple of years ago?" Jaime said a little wistfully, shifting her off his chest so they could lie facing each other, "I'd like us to be married before we travel north again."

"Depending on the dragon training, that would be very soon," Brienne said, "but I don't know where we would get married. I certainly don't want to get married in the sept where you last fucked Cersei."

"I love how subtle you are, Brienne," Jaime said sarcastically, "but you're right; neither do I."

"Nor in the Sept of Baelor, where you stood vigil for your father. I fancy even I could detect the lingering smell there. Does it really have to be in a sept at all?"

"It would be the proper thing to do," Jaime said.

"And we are nothing if not proper," Brienne teased.

"True, but I still want to do things right. I wish we had more time to plan."

"But we don't," Brienne sighed, "I'd rather spend the time we do have alone together in a comfortable bed."

"That reminds me, there's the bedding to think about," Jaime said with a wicked grin.

"No."

"It's traditional."

"No."

Jaime laughed. "C'mon Bearenne, you don't want a bunch of men to take off your clothes and throw you in bed with me?"

"Sure, if Cersei can be one of the women to take off your clothes."

"It might go poorly if she saw how hard I'd get seeing you in bed naked, waiting for me."

"There might be a tugging contest over your cock," Brienne speculated.

"You'd win."

"That I would. I'm stronger."

Jaime started to laugh, "And then while everyone was waiting outside the door I'd make you come so hard you'd scream for all to hear,"

"Maybe I'd make you scream first," Brienne said, and Jaime could see by how her eyes darkened that just talking about bedding him was making her aroused.

"Mm," Jaime said, staring into her eyes, "Let's see, I think I'd start by just kissing you on the mouth, teasing you with my tongue until you opened up and let me taste you. You'd already be naked, like now, so I'd be able to feel your nipples against me, just waiting for me to suck them while I pressed my cock against you…"

"I know what you're doing, Jaime," Brienne said, "you just want to see if saying things like that will rouse me to lust."

"Well, you're breathing hard, your skin is flushed, and," Jaime lifted the covers, "your nipples are so hard and pink they're just begging to be licked. I'd say it's working. I bet if I slipped my fingers in your cunt you'd already be wet and ready for me. Are you as hot for it as I think you are?"

"Damn you."

Jaime leaned back with his arms behind his head, smiling.

"We have things we should be talking about, Jaime," Brienne said in exasperation.

"We are talking, my love."

"Dragons, Jaime, we're supposed to talk about that. I have to give my answer to the queen."

"Right," Jaime said mournfully, "I don't think I can concentrate on dragons with you naked beside me, looking like you need to be fucked."

"Let's get dressed then. Negotiating with the queen is important; let's see if we can make it work to our advantage."

"You're right," Jaime said reluctantly and got out of bed, "let's work on this in the parlor so you can write our ideas down."

Brienne agreed and got up to dress as well, "Do you want to send for some wine? I'll be out in a minute."

By the time the wine arrived they had dressed and Brienne was sitting at the desk busily writing down their ideas. Jaime set a glass at her elbow and stretched out on the couch with his wine. Brienne soon had several sheets of paper covered with anything they could think of that training a dragon might entail, along with several requests and demands to present to Daenerys.

Jaime was watching Brienne as she wrote and scratched out items on her list, chewing on the end of the quill when she was thinking. He loved seeing her like this, unself-conscious and relaxed. It was easy to picture other evenings like this, when the winter was over and they could just be.

"Jaime, have you heard of Dragon Horns?"

"On their heads? Sure." He said, "Why do you ask?"

"Not the ones on their heads. I remember reading that there were horns that were used to control dragons."

"That sounds like a good idea. We should get one." Jaime said, draining his glass and pouring another.

"They're rare, and I think they're quite deadly if used wrong." Brienne said, holding out her wine glass for more.

"How inconvenient," Jaime said, getting up to fill her glass.

"But it makes me wonder if some other kind of horn or musical instrument might be used for training," she said as Jaime looked over her shoulder at the list.

"It's a dragon, Sweetling, not a dog or a bird," he rested his hand on her shoulder, "why have you written 'cat'?"

"You know how sometimes a horse does better for having a companion of another species? Usually a goat or something?"

"Yes," Jaime said dubiously.

"I'm sure a dragon would eat a goat, but maybe a cat…"

"Would be tasty as well?" Jaime finished for her, "Anyway, the queen won't need to help us with something like that. Maybe you should take a break so we can look at what you have so far."

Brienne gathered her notes and followed him to the couch. Once they were settled next to each other she held up the first piece of paper, which had "Conditions" written across the top.

"Condition one," she said, "Ser Jaime Lannister will be involved in any capacity necessary for me to train the dragon, at my discretion. Two: If the Silver Army marches before dragon training is complete, Ser Jaime will stay behind with me until we can travel together,"

"She's going to suspect you have a thing for me," Jaime remarked.

"Or you do for me," Brienne said, "but I don't have to list it separately, do I?"

Jaime laughed and kissed her ear, "No; where I go, it goes."

"Three," Brienne continued, "I am to have complete control on how the dragon is trained, with no restrictions or interference."

"She won't like that; it's too vague."

"It needs to be. I don't know yet what I'll need or want to do, but I can't have her constantly questioning and having to approve everything. If I let her have some say in how Viserion is trained she'll be having him do carnival tricks instead of setting Walkers on fire. If I have to fly him in battle someday I need him to obey me."

"I don't like the idea of you flying him in battle while I'm on the ground," Jaime said, "Can you add something in about having someone else fly him instead?"

"I want to teach him to accept other riders," Brienne told him, "but I don't need to tell Daenerys that yet. The less we give her to think about, the less she'll interfere."

"I don't like it, Brienne."

"I know you don't, my love. But we don't have much choice, and this gives us some power where we had none before. If I can get Viserion to bond to me, we have something to negotiate with later."

"Besides, you really want to ride the beast, don't you?"

"Wouldn't any girl? It may be silly, but the idea of riding into battle like Visenya Targaryen did is exciting," Brienne said, turning to grin at Jaime, "It's kind of your fault; you can't give a girl a beautiful Valyrian steel sword like Oathkeeper and expect her not to want to swing it from the back of a dragon."

"I will admit the thought of seeing you up there with that sword, in your armor... You don't suppose people can fuck on the back of a dragon, do you?"

"That would be one for the songs," Brienne said, a triumphant light in her eyes, "we could commission a special saddle…"

"Don't tease, Wench,"

"Mm, who's teasing?" she said and shifted until she was on top of Jaime, her arms around his neck, "Wouldn't you like to ride a dragon someday?"

"So now you are a dragon? Because I could ride you all - " Jaime started to say, but he was interrupted by a knock at the door. Brienne laughed at the look on his face, equal parts amusement and frustration. She sat back so Jaime could go answer the door.

Tyrion stood on the other side, holding a flagon of wine and three wine cups held by their stems in one hand. He grinned up at his brother.

"Not interrupting anything, am I?" he asked, trying to peer around Jaime.

"No, luckily for you," Jaime said cheerfully, stepping aside so he could enter, "and we were almost out of wine; I'm glad you brought some to share."

Tyrion sketched a little bow to Brienne, holding the flagon out for her to take, "My lady," he said, "last I saw you, rum was your drink of choice. However, as we have important matters to discuss I thought you might appreciate something a little milder."

Brienne looked up at Jaime, who was watching the two of them with amusement.

She narrowed her eyes, "How much would you hate me if I killed your little brother?" she asked.

Both men guffawed at once, and the resemblance between them couldn't have been clearer. Jaime ruffled Tyrion's hair, and he tried to dodge the gesture.

"He'll soon be your brother as well, Sweetling," Jaime said, raising his eyebrows at her, "Sadly, you wouldn't be the first sister to threaten his life."

"Ah! Does that mean what I hope it does?" Tyrion said, setting down the glasses next to the ones Jaime and Brienne had been drinking from. He looked up at Jaime, who nodded, his happiness so clearly written across his face that Brienne and Tyrion found themselves grinning with him, all teasing forgotten for the moment.

Tyrion stepped over to Brienne and hugged her fiercely.

"Welcome to the most fucked up family in Westeros, sister," he said.

If Brienne was taken aback by his enthusiasm she quickly recovered and hugged the little man back, "Thank you, Tyrion. For everything."

When Tyrion stepped away he said, "I am certainly glad to have gotten this news while you were seated, my lady, for had you been standing that could have been the most awkward brother-sister hug ever," he paused, waiting for Jaime and Brienne to picture it, "Well, maybe not the most awkward brother – sister…"

"Don't spoil this," Jaime warned.

Tyrion laughed and turned to pour wine into the fresh glasses and hand them around. He seated himself in one of the chairs across from the couch and Jaime sat back down next to Brienne.

"Have you told anyone else of your betrothal?" Tyrion asked.

"No, we've not left the room since my lady accepted my proposal," Jaime said, then rolled his eyes upon seeing the knowing smirk on Tyrion's face, "Get your mind out of the moat, little brother."

Tyrion tried to compose his face, but the grin kept sliding back into place, "As you wish, Jaime. Have you decided who is to know about this?"

"Who? Why, should it be a secret that we're to marry?" Jaime asked.

"Maybe," Tyrion suggested, "Many people already assume that you're married, including Daenerys. I can think of a couple of ways she might react to the news; she will either be very excited and expect to plan a large, gaudy wedding in the Royal Sept with dragon-themed décor and fermented mare's milk confections for the reception, along with a very public bedding ceremony, or she'll see it as another bit of leverage to get Brienne to train Viserion."

"I've already decided to train Viserion," Brienne said.

"Ah, the wedding it is," Tyrion said dryly.

"No!" Jaime and Brienne said together.

"Also, there is Cersei's reaction to think about," Tyrion said, "She's already tried to part you; what happens if you make her really desperate? Were you planning to invite her to the wedding? That sounds like fun, especially if it's held in the Royal Sept."

"Fuck," mumbled Jaime.

"Exactly," said Tyrion.

"Okay," Brienne said, "so for now we don't announce our betrothal. We can tell some people, can't we?"

"If you trust them," Tyrion said, "I imagine Loras and Dwayne would love to be your flower girls. Especially Loras, with that Tyrell flower thing and all. Are you sure you don't want Dany to plan your wedding? I'm sure she could design you a lovely dress, she's quite fond of belly button cut-outs you know."

"Tyrion, not that we're not glad to see you, and grateful for the room and the, uh, gift, in the drawer, but did you just come by to taunt us?" Brienne said.

Tyrion picked up the flagon of wine and added more to all of their glasses, "I actually came here to ask what you've decided about training Viserion, Brienne. So, I can tell the queen you've decided to do it?"

"With conditions," Jaime said, "If she really wants that dragon trained and has to put Brienne in danger, she needs to agree to a few things first."

"I'd hoped you might have thought about that. I can talk to Dany for you; she might listen to me. What are your conditions?"

Brienne handed him the paper with their first three conditions on it. Tyrion read it over, frowning, "She's probably expecting you to demand that you and Jaime not be separated in any way, but this part about complete autonomy over the training might alarm her."

"Use your influence, then," Jaime said, "convince her it's to her benefit to leave it up to Brienne."

"You might be over-estimating my influence over the queen,"

"Try."

"I promise I will try. Do you have other demands?" Tyrion said.

"We have other 'requests,' things I need to train Viserion." Brienne said, "I'd like Lavakhat and Hemikh to be my assistants. I'll need a dedicated farrier and a leathersmith to help design and build saddle and tack for Viserion. We can find the right people to make what we need, but the queen needs to be willing to pay for whatever that may be."

Tyrion nodded, "That sounds reasonable. Good idea involving the Dothrakis; she'll like that."

"They're good men," said Brienne, "We'll need sleeping quarters and food in the house by the dragon pit, since we'll be there at odd times. I also need someone, maybe a maester, to look for information on past dragon riders. If there are any drawings of Visenya, Rhaenys or Aegon riding their dragons maybe we can use them to guide us in designing the gear we'll need. Any stories and information from the age of dragon riders would be useful."

"I don't think we even need to ask the queen about that. What else?"

"She isn't going to like this, but I need her to stay away from Viserion. He needs to bond to me. Right now he sees her as his indulgent mother. When I ask him to do things he doesn't care to do I want him to know that all food and affection comes from me; that he needs to please me."

"You're right, that will be hard for her. She should see the logic of it though."

"The last thing I'm not too sure about," Brienne said, "She said Rhaegal was wilder and more dangerous, but if I can win him over I might want to use him in the training, perhaps even teach him as well. I just need her consent to work with him."

"Working with Viserion is dangerous enough, my love," Jaime said, putting his hand over hers, "I really don't want you to risk working with the other dragon. He's a killer."

"They're all killers," Tyrion said darkly.

"You can still back out, Brienne," Jaime said earnestly, "We can find a way around the queen's punishment somehow."

Brienne shook her head, "I can do this, Jaime. We can do this. Think of what a difference it will make to the battle to have a dragon against the Others! A dragon that I control. This could turn the battle in our favor."

Jaime crossed his arms and looked sullen, but he nodded.

Tyrion drained his glass, "I'll tell the queen," he said, standing, "Walk me to the door, brother?" Tyrion gave Brienne a sincere smile, "I really couldn't be happier for you both," he said.

"Thank you, Tyrion. You and I still don't have a truce, though."

"No fooling you, at least this time," he said.

Jaime got up to walk him to the door. Once there Jaime crouched down to hug his brother.

"So, things went well, I take it?" Tyrion asked quietly.

"She came to be with me in Traitor's Walk after she left Dryp and Loras. Thank you for getting us a place of our own away from Cersei and the Maidenvault."

"And the moon tea?"

"Was presumptuous of you."

Tyrion laughed, "And timely. I can tell by looking at you both that she is the Maid of Tarth no more."

"Oh, you can not," Jaime huffed.

"Perhaps not, though the way you're blushing and trying not to smile is answer enough. Also, Brienne's hair certainly didn't get that tangled from sleeping."

"Get out," Jaime laughed, giving Tyrion a push. Tyrion waved as he ambled back down the corridor and Jaime chuckled, happy he and his brother could push each other around again.

He shut the door and went back to Brienne.

"The rest of the night is ours, my lady," he said, "What would you like to do?"

Brienne stood up and leaned in to whisper in his ear, "Would it be too much to ask for fresh bath water to soak in? I believe your bigger than some cock has left me rather sore."