Brienne POV

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

Brienne whispered 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."

Jaime considered her request. She could tell he was trying hard to look sincere and concerned, but his eyes were alight with amusement. He bit his lip to keep from smiling.

Brienne knew this expression well. It had always made her heart flutter, even back when she'd been escorting him away from Riverrun. The way he'd been able to insult her while still looking so damned appealing vexed her then, just as it did now.

There'd been a time, after they'd hacked off his paw, when it seemed he would never wear that cocky expression again. It had torn at her heart to see what else his maiming had cost him.

The first time she'd experienced his cutting humor again was on their way to King's Landing with Bolton's men. He'd made some jape at her expense; Brienne could hardly remember what it was. Some sardonic reference to the dream he'd had, or something about her being naked as she'd helped him dress after their bath, probably. It hadn't really mattered; the light was back in his eyes and Brienne had been relieved to see it. He'd been fond of mentioning her nudity, knowing it made her blush, becoming even more awkward and nervous.

After they'd defeated Lady Stoneheart and she'd nearly died from her wounds, Jaime had been subdued and humble around her, giving up teasing her for a couple of weeks at least. Even when he cautiously started taunting her again he had ceased needling her for her nudity altogether.

Maybe teasing her about being naked had been a little too close to the bone once they began sleeping in the same bedroll as they traveled. Waking up with your cock hard against a girl's arse could make you think twice of such a jest when you weren't prepared to deal with the awkwardness that ensued. His smile had returned, though; Jaime seemed happy and he was being nice. It had confused Brienne thoroughly.

Brienne wasn't sure when he'd become easy around her again, but gradually he began to pester her with his wit again. She learned to parry his barbs until the bantering rapport between them became so obvious that most people around them assumed they were already married.

Now they truly were betrothed, but the bedding before the wedding had left her tender, and the unaccustomed stickiness between her thighs made her yearn for a warm soak in the big copper tub.

"Another bath, my lady? Jaime said, allowing himself to smirk at her, "I think that might be managed. My apologies for making you sore. I'm afraid it was unavoidable."

"Do you think the bath boys will be terribly annoyed to empty and refill the tub so soon?" she asked.

Jaime laughed, "Had you grown up in Casterly Rock you would never have questioned whether a servant was annoyed or not. But do not fret: those were some of Daenerys's unsullied warriors that brought the water. They have little enough to do in the Red Keep just now, and some of them prefer to serve inside where it's warm."

"Had I been privileged enough to grow up in Casterly Rock I imagine I'd still worry about how the servants felt. I think that sort of entitlement just comes naturally to the Lannisters," Brienne told him.

"I suppose it does," Jaime admitted, "Will I be expected to be meek and accommodating around the servants when we live on Tarth? What's your father like as a Lord?"

"He is well respected, of course. I don't think he would ever question his place or that of a servant. I never had his confidence. My septa made sure of that."

"Ah, the redoubtable Septa Roelle. Is she still at Evenfall?"

"I believe so."

"I shall look forward to terrorizing her, then," Jaime said, "and she will never be allowed in the same room with any of our children."

Brienne chuckled and kissed his ear, "I love you so, my Jaime."

"How fortunate for me then, since I am the cause of your current malady"

"It isn't so bad. It was well worth any discomfort."

"You enjoyed it then?"

Such a lion, seeking his praise, Brienne thought, which he well deserves, "It was quite tolerable," she said.

"Wench. I'll show you 'tolerable.'" Jaime groused, suddenly bending to wrap his strong arms around her thighs and hoist her over his shoulder. "Pretty sure it could have been better," he grunted, carrying her back into the bed chamber as she laughed and beat her fists against his back.

He paused before the bed, his legs set wide for balance, "We could both use more practice, don't you think?"

Brienne wriggled to get out of his grip, but he held fast, easily supporting her weight.

"Don't you think?" he repeated.

Brienne was breathless with laughter, "Put me down," she gasped.

Jaime was laughing as well. He moved his hand up to one cheek of her butt and pinched it.

"Ow!" she cried, outraged, "That's it, Lannister!" She grabbed his rear with both hands and squeezed.

"Is that supposed to bother me?" Jaime chuckled, "Because you can do that all night long and I'll never complain."

Moving her hands caressingly up his bottom, Brienne found the waist of his breeches and pulled up as hard as she could. Jaime swiftly flung her onto the big bed, where she landed with a whump. Before she could catch her breath he was on top of her, holding her down with his weight.

They grinned at each other. Few people were aware of Jaime's playful side, but Brienne knew it well. Their occasional tussling had sometimes been physical, but never quite so intimate. Having him lying on top of her now, obviously aroused, gave her no cause for complaint.

She reached up to push his hair back from his eyes. Jaime took her other hand and brought it to his lips, a courtly gesture if not for the way he trailed his lips over her knuckles and kissed the tip of each finger.

Jaime pressed the palm of her hand against his heart, and the way he looked at Brienne sent a fleeting ache through her chest at the intensity of his gaze. This love for each other was not new; the way they expressed it was.

Jaime was unusually quiet and still, almost studious, looking down at her. Brienne knew it wouldn't last long, and it didn't. He brought her hand back to his mouth and nibbled on one of her fingernails, then tore at a rough edge of it with his teeth.

"What do you think you're doing?"

"Chewing your fingernails for you," he said as though it were obvious.

She supposed it was. He sometimes chewed his own, an inelegant habit when he was bored or nervous.

"Why are you chewing my fingernail?"

"It needed it. Look how ragged it is." He said, holding her finger up. "I've only had half as many nails to chew for a long time. Now what's mine is yours and what's yours is mine."

He ripped off the crescent of nail and Brienne yelped. Jaime examined her fingertip, which was raw where he'd made the nail too short.

"Sorry," he said, and put her finger in his mouth, sucking on it lightly.

Brienne was torn between annoyance and amusement. She tried to take her finger back but Jaime held fast. He drew more of it into his mouth and she was caught off guard at how it felt as he lightly sucked, moving it in and out of his mouth slowly. He switched to another finger and she forgot to protest. It was only a finger, gods be good, why was she feeling it tingle all the way down to her core?

By the third finger her breathing was as ragged as the nail had been. The warmth between her legs centered where she felt Jaime rigid against her. He was smiling as he slowly slid the finger from his mouth and blew on the tip, making her shiver. Jaime lifted himself off of her chest a little, putting more of his weight at his hips, pressing him harder into the cradle of Brienne's thighs.

The look he was giving her left no doubt of his intentions. There would be no bath for a while yet, that look told her. She knew her face hid nothing of just how little inclined she was to argue. She wrapped her fingers in his hair and pulled him to her. If he was surprised at the fierceness of her kiss he didn't show it. He matched her urgency with his own, moaning against her mouth. Brienne's hands were everywhere, trying to touch every bit of him she could reach.

She pulled his shirt up his back, then ran her nails over his bare skin when she couldn't push it past his shoulders. They got to their knees and Brienne tugged his shirt over his head. Jaime put his hand and stump under her shirt, pulling it off with her help.

The hunger in Jaime's eyes was different than it had been earlier. His restraint was gone. Brienne could tell that this would be no gentle exploration, no tender introduction like before. The strength of his desire sent hers soaring.

They explored with lips and tongues and teeth scraping over sensitive skin. Brienne unlaced Jaime's thin breeches and her own and they toppled back onto the mattress tugging and pushing off the rest of their clothes.

Jaime slipped his tongue into Brienne's mouth, kissing her deeply while reaching down between her folds to dip two fingers inside her and slide moisture up to her nub and began teasing it, rubbing on it and around it and then back down to her entrance. She reached down and curled her fingers around his cock and began stroking up and down firmly, using her thumb to caress the sensitive ridge beneath as she'd done before. Her movements felt a little awkward, but he either didn't notice or didn't mind as he shifted his hips closer to her.

Brienne closed her eyes, the feel of Jaime's hand between her thighs and his thick shaft alive in her fingers was intoxicating. His tongue in her mouth caressing hers as she moaned and tried to suck it in deeper was driving her close to the edge. When Jaime groaned loudly and jerked against her hand she felt herself begin to shake with the beginnings of her release.

"Are you too sore for me?" Jaime asked, burying his face in her hair to still the tremors rolling through him. His voice was rough with need.

"No. I want you. I need you, Jaime," Brienne gasped, clamping her thighs around his hand as a shudder of pleasure shook her. She was so close. Oh gods, whatever you do, don't stop now, she thought, but said. "We might need to get a towel. I don't want to ruin the blanket."

"You didn't bleed before, did you?" Jaime said, pulling back to look at her.

"I did, but not enough to get it on the bed, only on me. I fear it may flow more if we fuck again."

"I'll get a towel, Sweetling. Are you're sure you want this, right now?"

Don't stop now, Jaime! Just don't stop what you're doing! Her body raged. "I think I might be able to tolerate it, barely, since you need the practice," Brienne said, clenching her teeth against frustrated need as he got off the bed. Fool, she chastised herself, you stopped him for a towel? Next time just ruin the damn bed.

Jaime bit back a grin and went into the tub's alcove, which still glowed with candlelight flickering and reflecting off the cool water. He took a towel from the shelf and brought it back, spreading it on the bed with a flourish.

Brienne smiled at his gentle humor and settled onto the cloth. Jaime kneeled next to her.

"I want to make you come first," he said, "You might feel less discomfort that way."

Brienne almost laughed at his gallantry. She was so ready she was panting, and his cock was standing out so hard and flushed she knew he'd like nothing better than to have it inside her. She wanted that too, but she wasn't going to refuse what he offered.

She spread her legs and Jaime slid two fingers inside her.

"Gods, you're so…" he sighed, "I want you so badly, Wench. I always will."

He caressed her cunt, and he knew he was touching her where and how she wanted when she moaned and began rocking her hips for him. Jaime lay down beside her, kissing her. As he brought her closer and closer to losing control, her lips and tongue grew more aggressive against his until she pulled away completely, breathlessly shuddering and straining against his hand. He took her nipple into his mouth and sucked it in hard pulses until she came completely undone.

Jaime moved between her legs while she was still trembling with her release. His cock pushed into her wetness, and the pleasure it was opening inside made her want to weep. She wrapped her legs around him and held onto the hard muscles in his upper arms as he slowly stroked in and out; a sensuous friction that was far from painful.

As much as she enjoyed and appreciated the pace he'd set, it didn't match the intensity of only moments ago. Brienne wasn't sure how or if she should tell him she didn't need him to be so considerate this time. Could she say she wanted him to go faster, be more forceful? Maybe

"Harder," she said, feeling foolish. Jaime was so focused on keeping himself reined in that he seemed not to hear. "Jaime," she said a little louder. He slowed even more and looked at her with concern. "I said 'harder'. Fuck me harder."

Jaime chuckled and thrust into her so hard she grunted.

"Like that?" he grinned.

She nodded and he did as she'd asked. Her ability to think vanished as she held on tightly. Her knight let his passion take over, moving inside of her like a battering ram as her walls clenched around him and the world spun with them at the center of it.

After a long time and no time at all, Jaime faltered and dug his hand into her hip, putting his weight on his muscular forearm as his thrusts became wilder, until at last he rammed his shaft home and groaned loudly as he shook with the power of his release.

Somewhere between a laugh and a cry, Brienne said his name and held him against her. She felt overwhelmed; her heart so full of emotion that she could do no more than murmur Jaime, Jaime, into his hair as he lazily kissed and nuzzled her neck.

When she was able to speak, she said, "We should have done this years ago."

Jaime laughed, sending vibrations along the skin of her neck until she was giggling as well.

"We'll just have to do a lot of this to make up for lost time," he said, kissing her lips and then her nose.

"And for practice," she reminded him, "though I would say this time might have been a bit better than 'tolerable.'"

"A bit better? I think you moaned so loudly they must have heard you throughout the holdfast."

"They must have heard you all the way to King's Landing then, for you roared like a lion."

"You make me roar like a lion, my love," Jaime said, finally allowing himself to slip out of her as he rolled to the side, stretching himself like a big cat as she watched. His sinuous beauty was even more pronounced when he was nude like this; the long muscles in his thighs, his sculpted chest and belly, the enticing line the muscles above his slim hips drew down to his groin. The fluid strength of his body fascinated her, as it had from the first time she'd fought him.

Seeing the way she was watching him, Jaime smiled enticingly and snugged up next to her, rubbing his cheek against hers with a satisfied hum. He's so like a cat, Brienne mused, marking me, claiming me. If he had whiskers he would lick them and then run his single front paw back through his mane to tame it.

She smiled at the image she'd conjured, wondering if he would purr if she scratched him behind his ears.

"Shall I call for your bath now?" he asked, running his forearm down her side and over her hip. Brienne thought that maybe she would be the one to purr as he hooked his arm over her thigh and pulled her leg over his.

A bath sounded so nice, yet like so much bother, at the same time. The heady, musky smell of sex and arousal lingered on them and in the room, and she found it oddly comforting.

"Soon. Right now I just want to get under the covers with you and sleep a little. It's been a big day," she told him, rolling herself off the bed to pull the covers back.

"A big day?" Jaime smirked, "just because we got betrothed, and fucked for the first time…"

"Yes, a big day. Bigger than some," she noted coyly.

Jaime got off the bed, taking the towel with him. He held it up, examining the diluted blood stains on it. He took a deep breath, some emotion holding him still as he looked at her. It meant something, taking her maidenhead. He might joke and preen, but Brienne sensed a subtle change in him, because she felt it in herself, too.

Jaime carried the towel back to the alcove and folded it carefully, hiding the blood stains to spare her modesty when the servants collected the laundry. He came back and slid in beside her under the covers. As nice as the bed in the Maidenvault had been, this one seemed even better.

Brienne turned onto her side and Jaime curled around her as usual, his right arm draped over her waist as she hugged his stump against her. Jaime began to snore within moments. Brienne didn't hear him; she was already asleep.

Jaime POV

They slept through the night, waking to the dim glow of the few candles still burning. The fire in the hearth was nothing but grey ash in the grate. Jaime stuck his head out of the covers, felt the chill on his nose, and burrowed back under like a bear too early out of hibernation. He pressed his cold nose against Brienne's shoulder and she jabbed his ribs with her sharp elbow.

He was tempted to leave his feet out of the covers long enough to get icy and then use them to annoy Brienne, but they would face enough cold in the north without voluntarily freezing now. Instead, he brushed her hair away from her neck and kissed her. She grunted and turned over, her body fitting against his, her skin warm and soft. She tucked her head under his chin. For all that she was a little taller than him standing, in bed she seemed to enjoy the illusion that she was just a little bit shorter. Just enough to lay her head on his chest or nestle her face into his neck.

Jaime was never bothered that she was a little taller than him standing. He'd stood taller than most men since he was in his teens, so Brienne's height did not make him feel inadequate as it did some other men. He'd noticed that often the shorter the man the more pugnacious they tended to act toward with her. It always delighted him to see her look down her crooked nose at such men with a mixture of pity and scorn. He knew her well enough to know there was an edge of self-consciousness there as well, but she'd learned not to let it show.

Holding her now as she slowly woke up, Jaime savored the solid feel of her. Beneath the smooth freckled flesh her vibrant strength came through, powerful and sleek. Parts of her were pleasantly plump: her small but rounded breasts, the plush curve of her ass, and the soft, womanly swell beneath the wavy hair of her thatch. He fervently wished they could stay in their chambers all day, doing nothing more than learning each other better.

Jaime thought of the wound on Brienne's inner thigh, the one she'd nearly bled out from after their fight with Stoneheart and the Brotherhood Without Banners. He'd longed to see it and kiss it to assure himself that it was truly healed, even though he knew it had been no more than a scar for a long time.

He remembered it vividly from the Quiet Isle, the short, deep gash so close to her groin and the large vein there that a finger's breadth in any direction would have finished her. He'd struggled desperately to bind it with only the one hand and his teeth as she lay unconscious in a pool of her own blood outside that devil's cave. Everyone else had been unconscious or dead. Finally, with her wound bound tightly with cloth torn from his shirt, he'd managed to drape her over a horse. The blood, unable to slow and thicken under the jouncing of the animal, soaked through successive bindings. Even the horse had looked like it had taken a wound from the streaks of blood down its sides.

The Penitent Brothers had saved her, thank the gods. When she was fit to travel again he'd insisted on changing her dressings when they camped, despite Brienne's modesty. The image of it stayed with him, a raw, relatively small-looking cut that had almost taken her from him. After a few days on the road Brienne had deemed herself well enough to see to her own wound. He'd never seen it fully healed.

He'd forgotten to look for it when he'd had the chance. Now that he was thinking about it he wanted to turn Brienne onto her back and find it. It must have healed cleanly; surely he would have noticed it otherwise.

Instead of waking her, Jaime got out of the bed and pulled the rope to summon a servant. When the young man came he ordered a fresh bath, a kettle of hot water and a mug, emphasizing the need to be quiet and not wake his lady.

While waiting for attendants to arrive he made sure to cover Brienne with the blanket to protect her modesty. Within moments the Unsullied arrived with buckets to empty the tub, while an elderly woman came to start a warm fire in the hearth. Everything was efficiently and quietly done, and soon he was able to steep tea for Brienne as the bath was refilled and fresh candles lit. The scent of lavender rose with the steam and drifted into the bedroom, which was still somewhat chilly.

Alone again with Brienne, Jaime brought the tea he'd brewed and set it on the side table, then took off his clothes and snuggled back under the covers with her. He wanted to kiss her awake slowly and then surprise her with the bath. Soon enough there would be no more gentle mornings to linger together like this.

Before long they would be back to sleeping during the frigid half-light of day with only a pile of furs between them and the frozen ground. They would wake and arm in darkness, gulping their tasteless food and preparing to exhaust themselves in another grim battle.

They would miss this. Jaime pulled Brienne against him. She yawned and nudged him with her nose, wriggling as close to him as she could.

"Brrr, you're cold, my love," she said sleepily, "Thank you for having the bath filled for me. You'll make someone a fine husband someday."

Jaime chuckled, "I might at that, Sweetling. I hope to find a wife who deserves me."

"Mmm, if you look very hard, and are very lucky, the Gods might find one for you. Though she might not be what you were expecting."

"Perhaps not. I was hoping for a woman with a few leagues on her, with hair of gold and a snarky wit. Oh, and she'd have to be taller than me, obviously."

"You might be fortunate enough to find someone taller than you, perhaps, but if you're hoping for someone snarkier than you I can only think of two people who might suit. Unfortunately, you are related to both of them."

Jaime laughed, "Was that not snark just now, my lady?"

"I suppose it was. I'm afraid I've fallen in with unsavory company and it has begun to rub off on me."

"Rub off on you, you say?" Jaime smirked.

"And you'll also have a difficult time finding someone whose mind is in the moat as often as yours is."

"Or I'll find someone who is just better at hiding it," he suggested, handing her the mug of tea.

"Moon tea?" she asked, sitting up and taking it from him. He watched her as she quickly drank it and set the mug on the other side table.

"I'm sorry the servants woke you up, Wench. I meant the bath to be a surprise."

"I woke up when you got out of bed. I had to use the privy pot anyway, while you were talking at the door. I'm looking forward to that bath, though."

She kissed him and got out of bed. He watched her walk to the alcove. She bent to run her fingers through the water and Jaime sighed inwardly. He might tease her about thinking about sex as often as he did, but it would be impossible for her to match him in that.

Brienne stretched, head back and arms over her head, the line of her back a deep curve as she arched backwards. The position made her breasts rise and her hair stream down, swaying just above her ass. Jaime suppressed a groan and looked away for a moment. The gods had found her for him, and now they would torture him. Not that he was complaining.

Brienne turned to grin at him. Did she just stretch like that on purpose, knowing I was watching? She stepped into the deep tub and lowered herself into the scented water with a drawn out sigh of pleasure. She is teasing me, the Wench. She lowered herself out of view and rose seconds later with her hair dripping. Jaime imagined the droplets of water that would adorn her skin like crystals, wanted to how her wet nipples tightened at the touch of air on them.

"Are you going to join me?" she asked, "It would be more efficient, since we really need to wash and get going if we want to break our fast before you meet Viserion."

With a shrug, Jaime got off the bed and walked toward her. His cock was in the lead and no matter how he tried for a slow dignified walk to the alcove he felt ridiculous. The smug look on Brienne's face wasn't helping. Her laughter even less so.

"My poor lion," she said as he got in and lowered himself into the water, "We really do need to leave this room sometime today," She smiled at him shyly, "I wish we could make love again right now, too."

"'Make love'?" Jaime asked.

"Yes, apparently in some places they use the term in place of 'fuck.'"

"And where did you hear this, my lady?"

"I read it in a book," Brienne admitted, blushing.

Jaime bit his lip and raised his eyebrows at her, "In a book? What kind of book were you reading, Bearenne? Does my lady have a taste for naughty literature?"

"I…well, there was just the one book. I found it in my father's library. Sometimes I would sneak in there and read it. It wasn't very descriptive, mind you, but the pictures made it clear what 'making love' referred to."

"Naughty pictures, too? I want to see this book that sullied your innocence."

"You'll be disappointed. I was. They left quite a lot to the imagination," she rolled her eyes and Jaime laughed.

"If you wish, then, I'll make love to you when we get back here tonight. I'll leave nothing to your imagination, I promise."

"Will you fuck me, as well?"

"There's a difference?"

"There might be," she suggested, reaching for the jar on the table and handing it to him. "Help me wash my hair?"

After washing each other's hair and just a little playful wrestling in the big tub after someone deliberately dropped the soap and needed to find it again, Jaime and Brienne got ready for the day ahead. They would be spending most of their time with Toby Mott and his family, and Jaime realized that between the Cersei trouble and their betrothal he never did get a chance to show Brienne his new sword.

She was already out in the parlor waiting for him, taking the opportunity to begin a letter to her father. Jaime carried out the sword wrapped in its cloth. It had no scabbard since it would never be worn except when it was already secured to his stump and shoulder.

"I've been meaning to show you since I came back from Mott's," Jaime said, setting it on the long, low table in front of the couch. Brienne came to watch as he unwrapped it. Her quick intake of breath showed that she immediately took in the beauty and importance of such a weapon.

"Oh, Jaime! Have you tried this yet?" she picked it up reverently and held it by the cup that his stump would fit into, examining the straps and nodding as she figured out how it would fit on him. When she noticed the little dragon glass sword inlaid in the blade she exclaimed and traced its shape with her finger. Jaime stood grinning at her, pleased with her reaction.

"I got to put it on up at Mott's forge. It fairly sings when I swing it. It's with good reason Mott charges more than anyone for his work; he is the best there is. He had the re-forging of Ice, you know."

Brienne's hand came to rest on Oathkeeper's hilt. Jaime knew the sword was her most treasured possession. The Valyrian steel weapon was the twin to Widow's Wail, which now belonged to his son Tommen.

"Will you fight right-handed again now?" She asked, turning the new sword to catch the light. "I can't wait to see you use this." She handed it back to Jaime to re-wrap.

"I've asked Mott to make me a tourney sword in the same design, so that I might practice with it. I hoped we could spar today," he said, watching as her eyes brightened at the prospect, "You'll want to bring your sparring sword with you."

"Have you asked Tyrion whether the ban on you carrying weapons has been lifted yet?" she asked, settling her heavy blue cloak over her shoulders.

"I plan to start carrying one again regardless. If someone objects they're welcome to take it up with me. I wonder what they did with my sword after I was arrested?"

"They brought it south with us. I made them give it to me after you were sentenced. It should be wrapped in our bedroll," she said, walking back into the bed chamber with Jaime following.

The bundle of possessions that they used daily in the north was in a corner of the room, tied securely with leather cord. It looked incongruous against the opulence of the room, the battered grays and browns of leather and fur making the colorful rug it rested on almost gaudy. Ironically, the scene depicted on the rug was of some long-forgotten battle. The bright summer hues of the landscape and the colorful house banners streaming into the wind over knights in plate armor bore little resemblance to what they had come to associate with the battles they were used to fighting. There was no blood, no snow, and no burning corpses.

Brienne kneeled to untie the straps, cursing as she tried to loosen some of the knots.

"This would be easier if you hadn't chewed off my one decent fingernail," she groused.

Managing to get enough of one end untied to tug the furry bedroll out a bit, Brienne probed around inside until she felt the leather straps of Jaime's sword belt. She slid it out and went to fasten it around his hips.

Jaime was happy to let her do this. He'd learned to do such things for himself with only a little extra time and difficulty, but having Brienne put his sword belt on him had become something of a ritual over time. It was one of those things that allowed them to be close without having to admit that it meant anything. This was the first time she'd strapped his sword on for him since their last night fighting the Others.

Brienne was standing quite close to him, buckling the straps, adjusting the position of the belt and sword. Jaime could smell her hair, feel her warmth. Her touch on his hips was deft, efficient. Yet there was no question, now that their feelings were out in the open, that this had always been something intimate, erotic even. How had they managed to deny what was between them for so long?

Brienne stepped back and smiled at him, "It is good to see you armed again, my Lord. I hadn't realized how much I missed it."

"Me, too," Jaime said. In the parlor Brienne picked up the new sword and cradled it in her left arm. Jaime took her other hand and led her out of their chambers. They drew a few amused glances in the corridors of the holdfast. Two tall warriors wearing their swords and holding hands was a bit unusual. Jaime felt good to be wearing a sword again. Jaime hoped his left arm hadn't lost too much strength during the weeks he hadn't been able to practice.

Outside the holdfast the snow was falling heavily again, but there was very little wind. Jaime guided Brienne quickly past the severed heads and down the serpentine stairs. They stopped by the armory to retrieve Brienne's tourney sword before going to the dining hall.

It was early enough that the morning meal was still being served. The tables in the hall were full of people eating eggs and boiled pork on thick trenchers of bread. The braziers were all lit to drive away the cold, and the dragon egg grill had what looked like small narrow fishes smoking on it. The great dragon skull, Rufus, hung in his place of honor, red candles in his eye sockets and mouth.

Jaime looked around for an empty table, but seeing none they took one close to a brazier and near the kitchen as well. There were a couple of women chatting quietly at the end of the table, so they took the other. Rather than sitting side by side, he and Brienne sat opposite each other, but not before sharing a kiss.

They had Jenna as their server again. The woman looked them over and smiled when she saw they were holding hands across the table.

"Heard that song about you," she said in greeting.

"Which one?" Jaime asked, raising an eyebrow at Brienne.

"Well, truth be told there was several folk in the kitchen anxious to sing me some of the better known songs about the pair of you. But the one I mean is 'Brienne the Brave.' It was lovely."

"Which others did they sing?" Jaime asked curiously. Brienne kicked him under the table, but he hardly felt it through his boots.

"Now, is it chivalrous of you, Ser, to embarrass the lady? Can you not see how she blushes? They wasn't songs for the morning table, most of them," Jenna said, looking sternly at Jaime. She wasn't that much older than him, but still seemed inclined to treat him like an errant child.

"My apologies then, to you both," he said, seeing Brienne trying not to laugh at the scolding he'd received.

"Shall I bring you something to break your fast, then?" Jenna asked, "There's also some little fishes cooking on the dragon egg. I'm told we're supposed to call 'em 'Dragon Talons' for the way they curl up when they cook, but mostly we just call 'em pig slop, because that's where most of them are headed after the first bite. Someone had the clever idea to soak them in brine overnight and now they smell like the bay when the tide's out."

Brienne wrinkled her nose and shook her head.

"I believe we'll just have the eggs and pork, my lady, with some ale," Jaime told her.

"Good choice, Ser. I'll have that out to you soon. Oh! Why, here's your other young men, Lady Brienne!"

Loras and Dwayne had come into the hall and were walking to their table. Jaime wasn't sure he wanted to see Ser Dryp just yet, but it seemed unavoidable.

"Well met, Ser Loras, Ser Dwayne," Jaime said, smiling up at them, "I hear the fish is very good today."

"Ah, that sounds delicious!" Dwayne said, seating himself next to Brienne. She opened her mouth to tell him about the fish, but then caught Jaime's eye and decided to let him have his petty revenge.

"We'll have whatever else they're having also," Loras said, sitting down by Jaime. Jenna nodded, gave Jaime a speculative glance, shifted her eyes to the other two men and then gave him a knowing smile before going to fetch their order.

"Lady Brienne, it is good to see you looking so well today," Dwayne told her, "I don't know about you, but I was barely able to leave my bed yesterday."

"Nor was I," Brienne said blandly. Jaime quickly looked at her and caught the secret smile she gave him. He couldn't help grinning at her.

"I don't think I've had that much rum in so short a time before," Dwayne continued, seemingly oblivious to the hidden meaning of Brienne's statement.

Loras, however, was quick to pick up on the look Jaime and Brienne were exchanging.

"You know, you really do look well rested today, my lady," he said, "it must have been a very satisfactory day in bed."

Jaime snorted with laughter, and Brienne blushed to the roots of her hair.

"Were you well looked after in the Maidenvault?" Loras asked, widening his eyes innocently. His emphasis on the word maiden did not go unnoticed.

"My brother Tyrion was kind enough to find us chambers in the Holdfast," Jaime said, "The lady will no longer be residing in the Maidenvault."

"I see." Loras said, smirking, "I take it the little misunderstanding between you two has been settled?"

Dwayne looked uncomfortable, "Loras, we ought not pry. You can see that you're embarrassing Brienne."

"It's all right, Dwayne. Loras and Jaime are just having a jape at my expense," Brienne said, "but I can assure you that all is well between me and Ser Jaime."

"We're betrothed," Jaime said with satisfaction, enjoying the startled look on Brienne's face, "But don't tell anyone yet."

"Especially not Cersei, I should imagine," Loras said with a low whistle, "Well, I am very happy for you both. You are certain you're not rushing into this? I mean, you've only been sharing a bed for years."

"Loras, is this really the time to tease them? I'm really happy everything has worked out so well," Dwayne said, "Have you decided when to have the wedding? We'll all be on the road north soon. I imagine you'll want to have your ceremony in the Royal Sept before then."

Jaime was grateful that no one else was aware of why they didn't want to marry in that particular sept. Brienne was looking at him, unsure what to tell the two knights about their plans.

"We haven't made plans yet," he said, "we really don't want to excite anyone's interest in our wedding."

"Oh, a wedding!" Jenna said, arriving with their plates, "how perfectly lovely!"

Fuck. The four of them looked at each other in dismay.

"Dear lady," Loras said smoothly, "We are all very happy for Lady Brienne and Ser Jaime, but you've stumbled upon a very great secret! It would be appreciated if you could keep it so until they've made their official announcement."

"Oh, to be sure, Ser. I am the very soul of discretion," Jenna said seriously, setting a plate piled high with dragon talons between Loras and Dwayne. "Would you two like something to dip the Talons in? Perhaps some hot wild mustard or clotted mare's milk?"

"I hear they're quite good dipped in aged egg custard," Jaime said, nodding encouragingly.

"Alas, Ser Jaime, we're fresh out of egg custard in the kitchens," Jenna said, affecting the proper tone of disappointment, "but there's some thistle jam's just been discovered in a cellar what's been forgotten for years. I hear it might be a real rare treat once eaten by kings."

"These…talons…look like something we might eat on Lorath," said Dwayne, "but there we eat them with just a sprinkling of salt. What do you think Loras, would you like to try something like we have in my homeland? I recall you saying you'd like to visit there someday."

Loras smiled at Dwayne, "Just some salt then," he said to Jenna, "and perhaps a tiny bit of the thistle jam and some toasted bread? My friend here hasn't had an opportunity to try many of the legendary foods of Westeros, what with winter's deprivations and all."

"Right away, Ser," Jenna said, her pretty dimples deepening with her smile, "I'll bring it with your ale."

When she'd left Brienne looked at Jaime with concern. "Do you think she'll tell anyone? I can deal with Cersei, but if the queen hears we're to be married…"

"What has the queen to do with it?" asked Dwayne as he speared a pale chunk of pork on his knife and regarded it suspiciously.

"Tyrion thinks she might use it as leverage where the dragon training is concerned," Brienne said.

"Or worse, she might decide to plan our wedding." Jaime added.

Loras looked around the dining hall dramatically and then burst out laughing, "And how should you like a dragon-themed wedding, Lady Brienne? I imagine Daenerys could top even the splendor of this room if she had good reason."

Jaime and Brienne both groaned.

Jenna came back with the mugs of ale, cubes of bread, a small dish with something green and gelatinous on it, and a tiny pot of coarse salt. Dwayne turned to help her with the mugs and she set the other items in the center of the table.

"Enjoy!" She chirped and quickly left the table. Jaime could see her shoulders shaking with laughter as she walked away.

Dwayne got a pinch of salt between his fingers and speared a talon. He examined it critically, looked doubtful, then sprinkled the salt over it and stuffed the fish in his mouth. Jaime and Brienne saw the tears spring to his eyes as he quickly chewed and swallowed, but Loras was concentrating on getting the thistle jam to adhere to the toasted bread.

"Mmm, delicious!" Dwayne said enthusiastically when Loras looked up from his task.

"Is it as good as the ones from Lorath?" he asked, trying to maneuver the jam and bread to his mouth without letting them part ways. He stopped suspiciously just before putting it in his mouth and sniffed. He shrugged and popped it into his mouth and chewed.

"Fuck it all!" he gasped, digging in his mouth with his fingers to clear the mucous like jam and chewed bread out.

Jaime guffawed to see the elegant Loras Tyrell using table manners more suited a three year old peasant. Brienne looked away, wiping her eyes and trying to stem her laughter by biting her lips.

Dwayne looked concerned. He shot a dirty look at Jaime and Brienne as Loras wiped his tongue with an unadorned cube of toast.

"Gods, I don't believe any king ever ate that!" Loras stuck his tongue out and tried to speak, "Uz id ook ike aye ave pwickles in muh tung?"

"No, no prickles that I can see," Dwayne said, leaning forward to examine Loras's green coated tongue, "I would imagine the salt and talons would draw them out if there were any stuck there."

Dwayne quickly speared a little fish, sprinkled salt on it and laid it on Loras's tongue before he could close his mouth. Loras drew it in and chewed gratefully. As he chewed his face grew red, but it was Dwayne's eyes that teared up.

Loras spit the chewed fish in his hand and glared as Dwayne slapped the table and laughed uncontrollably. Loras looked around for a place to put the mess in his hand and noticed that Jaime and Brienne were avoiding his eyes by concentrating on their food. Suddenly Brienne hiccupped and clapped her hand over her mouth, her eyes going wide with consternation.

Jaime chuckled; he knew this was what happened if Brienne held back her laughter for too long. Very soon now

Brienne fell into a violent fit of hiccups mixed with laughter and had to lay her head on the table as she wheezed and shook. Dwayne reached over and rubbed her back.

"Oh, poor Brienne! Look what you've done to her, Loras." He said.

"What I..?" Loras said outraged.

"I'm sure someone would comfort you, too, had you not a piece of chewed fish in your hand," Dwayne said calmly.

Jaime found his laughter somewhat tempered by seeing Dwayne's big hand caressing Brienne's back. He could think of no way to end the familiarity except to finish the meal and leave. They had been too occupied to eat after their single meal of the day before, and he knew they both were hungry. It would be unfair to drag Brienne away before she'd finished her eggs, at least.

Loras apparently had seen enough of Dwayne's care for Brienne as well. He dropped the contents of his hand onto Dwayne's trencher.

"There, you can have your fish back." He said as Dwayne's mouth dropped open at the muck in the middle of his eggs, "If that's the style of food and hospitality on Lorath I believe I shall stick with pigs' feet and Blackwater cod."

If Brienne's right about these two, then they seem to be in the middle of a lover's quarrel, thought Jaime, but at least Dryp isn't touching her anymore.

Brienne inhaled a huge breath, head still down on the table, and held it for a remarkably long time. In Jaime's experience that never actually cured hiccups, but she always insisted on trying it anyway.

"Better, my love?" he asked, when he became concerned that she might have passed out. Brienne lifted her head and regarded him with her remarkable blue eyes, still sparkling with mirth. She nodded and sat up, reaching for her ale. Just as it got to her lips – hic – and she was laughing all over again.

"Forgive my Lady," he said to the other men in his most formal voice, "It would appear that recent events have made her quite giddy." Jaime reached for her hand and held it in his upturned palm, stroking it with his thumb, "Come, Sweetling, you must calm yourself or you'll frighten the dragon later."

Dwayne pushed away his trencher. Out of the corner of his eye, Jaime was sure he saw Loras stick his tongue out at the big knight.

"Dragon?" Loras asked, "You're going to see the dragons today? Did you agree to train them, then?"

"I've agreed to train one of them," Brienne confirmed, "Viserion. Today I just want to take Jaime to the dragon pit to meet him."

Loras looked at Jaime, "How does that sit with you, Ser Jaime? A bit harder to rescue your lady from a dragon than a bear."

Jaime opened his mouth to answer, but Brienne cut in, "I shall not need rescuing, Ser Loras. If all goes well, teaching that dragon to fight White Walkers and carry supplies may just help us to rescue other people."

"Us?" echoed Ser Loras.

"Jaime will be helping me, or at least he'll be with me, while I try to train Viserion. Daenerys says the dragons aren't particularly fond of men, but who couldn't like Jaime?"

Dwayne gave a little snort and all eyes turned to him. He blushed. "Sorry, I, uh, my ale went down the wrong way."

No one mentioned that he obviously hadn't been drinking any ale right then.

So Ser Dryp isn't fond of me, either, Jaime thought, I wonder why?

"Spoken like a girl in love," Loras cut in, smiling at Brienne, "But I daresay your dragon won't care how dashing and handsome he is. What makes her Grace think the dragons dislike men?"

"They dislike Jorah Mormont intensely," Brienne said.

"Everyone dislikes Jorah," Loras said.

"I bet even Jorah dislikes Jorah," observed Dwayne, "seeing as he hates anyone that wants to see what's going on under the Queen's silk dresses."

Jaime and Brienne laughed.

"How does that even make sense?" Loras asked.

"They get it," Dwayne pointed out, "maybe you should ask the 'dashing and handsome' Ser Jaime to explain it."

"Okay, leave me out of it," Jaime said, truly perplexed by the exchange.

"I think we should go. Are you finished with your food, Ser?" Brienne asked him.

Jaime drained his ale and nodded to her. They made their goodbyes and hastily left the hall.

"What in the seven hells was that all about?" Jaime asked her when they were back outside in the snow.

"Jealousy, I should imagine," Brienne said, "Dwayne is afraid that Loras fancies you, and Loras is trying to make Dwayne jealous by flirting with you so that he'll do something about it."

"Do something? Like what? Surely he doesn't mean to challenge me for Loras's affections?"

"No, Sweetling. At a guess I would say Dwayne is holding back on having a romance with Loras, and Loras is trying to goad him into declaring his feelings."

"How do you know all this?" Jaime asked, stopping in front of the stables.

"It's just obvious," Brienne said, giving him a kiss and preceding him into the noise of the stables.

"So, they haven't, uh, spent time with one another?"

"I didn't say that. Remember when Dwayne said he barely left his bed yesterday?"

"I guess so," Jaime said, though he hadn't paid much attention. He grabbed Ser Fluffy Tail's saddle from the rack and Brienne picked up Sean's.

"And I said I hadn't either?" Brienne said, turning up the row of stalls their horses were in.

"So?"

"That was a convoluted form of girl talk. He never said why he didn't leave his bed," Brienne grinned, "and neither did I."

"Now I know you're making all of this up," Jaime said, setting Ser Fluffy's saddle over the railing.

"You'll never know for sure, will you?" Brienne teased, "For you are such a man." She set her saddle on the rail also and opened Sean's stall.

The horse was eager to see her and whuffled his breath into her hair before pushing forward to leave the stall. Brienne tied his halter to the hitching ring and began to saddle him while Jaime petted his nose and watched her curiously, still undecided about whether she was serious about Dryp and Loras. Perhaps I'll never know, he thought, But I'm all right with that.

When Sean was ready, Jaime went to release his own mount, giving him some scratches behind the ears and a couple of hearty pats on the neck.

"There now, Reggie. You'll be near dragons today. You'll be valorous and brave, and not let Sean show you up, eh?"

"Oh please," Brienne said, picking up Fluffy's saddle and hoisting it over his back, "Your horse is such a dandy compared to Sean. Ser Fluffy will have nightmares for weeks."

"Night mares?" Jaime asked with a smile, "Ser Fluffy – er, Reggie, is a true knight and unafraid of anything. Sean is afraid of spiders."

"Ice Spiders," said Brienne, tightening Fluffy's cinch, "Not little innocent garden spiders like you are…Ser Jaime." She tied the new sword onto Fluffy's saddle and walked over to mount Sean.

Jaime had the grace to know he'd lost this battle and got on his own horse. They rode out of the stables and out of the Red Keep, heading down Aegon's Hill and into the snowy squalor of King's Landing.