Jaime POV
The path leading down Aegon's Hill was obscured by the heavy snow, which continued to fall so thickly that soon it would cover their tracks, all trace of their passage erased. In the distance, King's Landing looked like a tiny fairy city from a storybook, all snow covered roofs and windows warmly aglow with candles. From here one could believe there was no grime, no hunger, and no fear.
Jaime looked at Brienne riding at his side. He noticed that she had taken special care in dressing that morning, choosing a thick woolen tunic of a blue so dark it was nearly black, and a soot-grey jerkin that was cut in a more feminine style than her usual garb. He wondered if she'd commissioned them when she'd had her new sleep gowns made. Most of their clothes were well worn and frequently mended, many seeming to have as many scars as the two of them did. Brienne's breeches were a familiar pair of close-fitted leather so scuffed and stitched that you could hardly tell what their original color had been.
Brienne shifted her weight in the saddle with a grimace. She made a little grunt of annoyance, so quiet that Jaime almost missed it.
"Is something amiss, Brienne?" he asked, urging Fluffy so close their knees were nearly brushing.
She turned to look at him, chagrinned that he'd heard her, "No, nothing is wrong," she said, giving him a small smile.
"Are you nervous about me meeting the dragons?" Jaime asked.
"No. Are you nervous about it?" she said, shifting in her saddle again.
"Not really. Well, maybe a little," Jaime allowed, "I really think you'll like Mott and Moira."
"I'm sure I will," Brienne assured him.
"So, not shy about that? Something is bothering you," Jaime said.
"I'm fine,"
"Sweetling, you're as jittery as a squire going into battle on a new horse."
Brienne sighed again, "I am not." She reached down and patted Sean's neck with her gloved hand, "I just don't want the horses to veer off the trail. I'm trying to watch for things they might blunder into."
"They'd see anything before you would. Both of them are sure-footed and used to snow."
Sean chose that moment to stumble over an unseen stone and Brienne grimaced as she pushed herself back from the pommel, which she'd slid against. She turned her head to the side to examine a tree they were passing, and then looked quite absorbed with watching a distant hawk.
Jaime watched her, perplexed. When she rose up a little in her stirrups to shift her seat again he finally realized what the trouble was. Riding a horse so soon after their first bedding was causing her discomfort. While always stoic about pain, Brienne was probably embarrassed as well. Jaime's instinct was to comfort and tease her, but he had the good sense to do neither.
Instead, he remarked, "Do you realize this is the first time we've ridden out of the Red Keep together since we got here?"
Brienne nodded, "The last time we rode through King's Landing together was when we were coming from the north for your trial. Before that, it was when we came from Harrenhal."
"Neither were very good homecomings," Jaime noted.
"No, it seems that coming back to King's Landing and the Red Keep isn't good for us," Brienne said.
"Not entirely true," Jaime said, "the first time, I sent you away and nearly lost you. This time I was smart enough to make sure you would always be mine."
Brienne looked down and petted Sean's mane, "I have been yours for a long time, Jaime," she said softly. Her voice carried to him easily through the silence of the snow.
"I don't know how I ever deserved you," he said, just as quietly.
"Nor do I," Brienne smiled, "but I suppose I shall have to bear with you, well as I may."
Jaime chuckled, looking forward to introducing his betrothed to one of his oldest friends. Mott would have the sense to see what an extraordinary person she was.
But just now, entering the city itself, he found he was not looking forward to meeting the dragons. Like Brienne, he'd grown up on tales of dragons and knights, and had always dreamed of having a place in their world. If not for the risk to her, he would have been excited.
The sounds of the city were muffled as they rode close to the wall, and the smell seemed less pervasive than usual. The population of King's Landing had swelled threefold as winter moved further south and people moved to the perceived safety of the walled city. Smallfolk thronged the streets even here on the outskirts. In the snow they looked like wraiths, taking no notice of the two riders passing by.
As poor as the food in the Red Keep was, Jaime knew it was worse down here as supplies needed to be stretched to feed so many. Bowls of Brown, once only a staple of Flea Bottom, were common even in more well-off areas. A steady business in spices from the free cities had flourished as folk tried to enhance the flavor and color of the fare.
Some even tried to make what they had more appetizing by coming up with new names for it: Saffron Stew, Pigeon Pride Pie, Blackwater Bounty, and more, all attempting to disguise what were essentially mushy grains with bits of organ meat, fish heads, and the slimy but plentiful bay eels, cooked until they were tender and indistinguishable from the oddments of root vegetables and rats that were also thrown in.
Jaime hoped they'd never have to resort to eating rats on campaign in the north. It was a possibility when the troops finally depleted the remaining game in the woods. There'd often been discussion of eating their horses if it came to that, but he'd sooner eat tree bark than Fluffy or Sean.
"We're almost there," Brienne said cheerfully as they passed Dragon's Gate.
"Lead on," Jaime said.
The horses sensed the dragons and pranced nervously, tossing their heads and rolling their eyes. Both mounts were battle seasoned, but Jaime and Brienne tried soothing them anyway, talking to them and patting their necks and withers reassuringly.
Brienne halted in front of a newer building that had been added on to the dragon pits since Jaime had last been in this part of King's Landing. He smelled the musky, reptilian scent of the dragons and the fetid, faecal smell of wet sheep. From somewhere in the small stable a horse, scenting Sean and Fluffy, nickered.
A grinning Dothraki warrior strode out of the low building toward them.
"Ashefa, well met!" Brienne greeted him as she and Jaime dismounted. She turned to Jaime, "Ashefa was with us when we saw the dragons a couple of days ago. Ashefa, this is Ser Jaime. I've brought him to meet the dragons."
The Dothraki took the reins of both horses, "Dragons fed," he told Brienne, "Three sheep for Drogon, two for Rhaegal, two for Viserion. Dragons full, they sleep."
"Thank you, Ashefa," she said, "We'll go see them now."
The Dothraki nodded and led their horses into the stable.
At the door of the house they wiped their boots on a thrice-folded tapestry in front of the door. Jaime thought he might have seen a ballroom scene from Joffrey's reign under the scrapings, but it was difficult to tell.
The opulence of the front room was a surprise. The large hearth and rich furnishings would have suited any noble's manor, though this house was on a much smaller scale. A semi-open kitchen and a hallway leading to several closed doors. Jaime wondered if the bed chambers were as well appointed as the front room seemed to be.
Brienne led him to the big, reinforced door at the back of the house and they walked through it together. The first thing Jaime noticed about the large run in front of the cages was the metal panels placed at regular intervals along the perimeter of the dragon enclosures. They looked like war shields, the kind you might use to protect you from arrows and boiling oil – or flame. Next he noticed the blood, some fresh and some rust-colored and dry, on the ground and the bars of the cages.
"Sheep's blood," Brienne explained, "And these shields are to get behind if you hear them making a rasping sound. I haven't heard it yet myself, but the Queen says it's the sound of their flame sacs igniting."
"Charming," Jaime muttered, looking for the dragons.
"I've heard they get calmer after a meal, so perhaps they're having a bit of a dragon nap," Brienne suggested, walking up to the cage on the far right. She stepped up to the wide-set bars and peered in. Jaime was right behind her, his hand on the hilt of his sword. "See there," she said, pointing to a shimmer of opalescence at the far corner of the cage, "Viserion is asleep with his wing over his eyes."
"But where are the oth –"
A screech rent the air to their left and Jaime pulled Brienne back behind one of the shields so roughly that their legs tangled and they nearly fell. Jaime's sword was out and leveled over his head for an overhand strike in an instant.
"That's Rhaegal," Brienne said, peering out, "I think he's just curious about us."
"Wondering how we'd taste, no doubt," Jaime said drily, sheathing his sword. The big green dragon was watching them, rubbing his head on the bars of his cage, his scales making an almost musical sound as they slid across the metal.
Rhaegal's greeting had also woken up Viserion, who raised his wing off his head and sniffed the air. Brienne stepped out from behind the shield and Jaime had to resist the urge to make her stand behind him.
Rhaegal continued to make a show of rubbing up against his cage, looking surprisingly like a cat trying to lure someone in to pet him. He was much taller than them, but he kept his head lowered to their level. Jaime saw him blink, his third eyelid sliding quickly over the bronze colored eyes.
Jaime wondered where Drogon was. There were areas within the furthest enclosure that might have hidden the big black dragon. Jaime steeled himself for another sudden screech should he decide to make his presence known. Viserion got to his feet, looking surprisingly awkward in the process. In flight he would be magnificent, but here on the ground he seemed to be at a disadvantage.
Stretching his golden wings, Viserion flapped them a couple of times as though to shake out the wrinkles. Brienne was biting her lip, clearly waiting to see if the dragon was going to come to her.
Rhaegal stopped rubbing and impatiently shoved his snout through the bars as far as he could.
"This is the wilder one?" Jaime asked, finding he wanted to reach out and touch it. He kept his hand firmly on the hilt of his sword, determined to show no friendliness to the creature.
"So it's said," Brienne told him, glancing at the dragon. "He sure looks like he wants someone to give him attention, though."
Viserion made it to Brienne and immediately put his nose through the bars. She set her hand on his snout and rubbed the ridge of scales over his nostrils.
"How's my good dragon? Huh? How's that Viserion today? Did you have some nice fat sheep to eat?" she cooed.
Jaime began to fear she would kiss the thing like she often did Sean. She looked over at Jaime and smiled. It was going to take a lot to make her more cautious with these creatures, he could already tell.
"Just don't kiss…" he started to say, but it was too late. Brienne set her lips on the dragon's nose and Jaime sighed dramatically.
"Jealous?" Brienne asked as she straightened. She put her arm through the bars to reach Viserion's forehead and caress that, too.
"Don't get used to it, Lizard Breath," Jaime said to Viserion. Brienne laughed.
"I think Rhaegal would like you to pet him," she suggested, "see the way he's looking at you?"
Rhaegal had been attentively watching Jaime the entire time. Probably waiting for his chance to bite me, Jaime thought. The dragon looked a little too clever for his taste.
"I thought they didn't like men," Jaime said.
Maybe they don't, but there are no men like you," Brienne said, smirking.
"Only me," Jaime finished, smiling back. He'd said that once, long ago, and Brienne had never stopped teasing him about it. She said it showed what an arrogant ass he'd been.
Brienne stepped over to Rhaegal and held out her hand for him to sniff. He drew his snout back into his enclosure and raised his head, looking down his nose at them. Viserion knocked his head against the bars, his small horns clanging as he tried to recapture her attention.
"I think your dragon is jealous," Jaime said, "I mean, I think that dragon is jealous."
"You needn't remind me it's not mine," Brienne said, annoyed. Whether at Jaime's reminder or the way Rhaegal had rejected her offer of friendship, Jaime couldn't be sure.
Both of them were looking at the green dragon when Drogon ambled up to the bars of his cage, yawning so widely they could see his sharp teeth and smell his breath.
"Gods, what a stink!" Jaime said, "I don't suppose we could teach them to eat mint leaves?"
"I imagine the next time he makes flame it will burn away the sheep's blood and tufts of wet wool that causes the odor," Brienne said.
"Something to look forward to."
Brienne turned back to Viserion, who promptly pushed his nose between the bars. Jaime saw that Rhaegal put his snout back through as well. He cautiously stretched his arm out toward the dragon, hoping Brienne was too engaged with Viserion to notice. Rhaegal sniffed at Jaime's hand curiously and then nudged it. Jaime cautiously placed it on the dragon and felt the warm scales under his fingers. He'd expected them to be cold, like plate armor. Intrigued, he brushed his fingertips along the ridge of the dragon's snout. A noise came abruptly from its throat. Startled, Jaime hastily drew his hand back. He looked at Brienne in alarm, only to see she was struggling not to laugh at him.
"He's durring, Jaime. Nothing to worry about. Except that you might start liking him, that is."
"He's probably just trying to make me incautious so he can get under my guard another time," Jaime said, stepping back and crossing his arms. He and Rhaegal stared at each other for a moment, and then the big beast banged his head on the bars just as Viserion had done. Jaime laughed when the dragon again presented his face for petting.
"I don't trust you," he said, putting his hand through the bars to stroke Rhaegal's forehead, "so don't get used to this." The dragon immediately durred again and closed its eyes.
Jaime glanced over at Drogon, who was watching a bird soaring high overhead, black against the clouds.
"I wonder how long it's been since they've flown?" Brienne said, "I bet they're terribly bored, being grounded in here."
"I suppose so. I'm sure they'd be happier flying around and terrorizing the folk of King's Landing."
"Maybe I'll get a chance to take Viserion up soon, let him stretch his wings," Brienne said hopefully, ignoring his comment.
Jaime felt a shiver down his back. Having her at risk working with a dragon on the ground troubled him enough, but up in the air, with no control… if only he could find some way to convince her to refuse to do this. But she'd already given her word. He knew from long experience that her stubborn honor was nearly intractable. All he could do was try to protect her.
"We should get to Mott's," he said, stepping back from the green.
"We should," Brienne agreed, giving Viserion a last rub with her knuckles, "Do you hear him durring? He's not nearly as loud as yours."
"Not mine." Jaime said, but leaned forward, "Yes, I hear it. Not cute. Not a bit."
Brienne smiled knowingly. Tommen got his soft side for animals from someone, and it certainly wasn't Cersei.
"Let's go take a look at the house. I think we'll be spending a lot of time there," she said, and walked back to the door, turning to look back at the dragons just once. Drogon had wandered off, still watching the sky, but the other two stayed to watch them go. Jaime refused to believe that a dragon could look disappointed.
Inside the house, candles had been lit, and a small oil lantern was waiting upon a sideboard. The great hearth was laid for a fire, but unlit.
Brienne took Jaime's hand, leading him into the wing of the house with a half dozen closed doors.
Jaime tugged her back to him, wrapping his right arm around her waist to hold her against his chest, "Tell me you won't take stupid risks, Brienne."
"Jaime, you know I won't…"
"Promise me," he said fiercely, "Don't let your bravery make you underestimate these creatures. I couldn't bear it if something happened to you."
Before she could reply, his lips pressed hard against hers. He took her lower lip between his teeth, possessive and demanding.
He let go, whispering against her mouth, "Promise."
"I promise," she breathed.
They stood, no space between them, and the look in her eyes roused him. The soft blue of them was almost eclipsed by pupils so dilated they seemed fathomless; a darkness he would willingly drown in. Her breath was shallow and quick, skin flushed. The roughness of his kiss had reddened her lips and he yearned to repeat it. He'd only meant to secure her promise to be careful, but the yielding sweetness of her response was intoxicating.
"Gods be good, woman, we're never going to make it to Mott's with you looking like this."
"Like what?" Brienne said, blinking as though she'd just woken up, her long, pale lashes sweeping her cheeks as she tried to focus her eyes on Jaime.
Jaime leaned in to kiss her shoulder before resting his forehead against it.
"You've no idea the power you have over me, Wench. How just the look in your eyes, nay, how everything about you, makes me want you."
"Surely not everything," Brienne said, self-deprecating, affecting a small laugh as she stiffened in his arms.
He could feel her pulling away, even though she didn't move.
"You don't have to believe me, Brienne. I've a lifetime to prove it to you, but I hope it won't take that long for you to accept it," Jaime said, raising his head to meet her eyes.
Brienne took a deep breath, a shy smile lighting her eyes, "Perhaps another time you can show me, prove to me, what you mean. But just now I'd like to see what secrets this house is hiding behind these doors. "
Like a couple of kids exploring, they opened the door to the first room and looked inside. It was a deep, narrow pantry. The glow of the small oil lamp Brienne held up revealed shelves laden with grains, dried meat and fruit, preserved vegetables and eggs; pickled, boiled, and, hopefully, fresh. A large slab of aging beef hung on a hook, ready for shaving or carving. There were no pigs' feet to be found, and only one large jar of pale chunks of meat in oil labeled "Cod." An entire cask of wine took up a corner of the room, and Jaime was able to decipher the script marking it out as being from one of the better-known vineyards in Dorne.
"We may never leave," Jaime announced.
"I can't imagine the other rooms could be as appealing as this," Brienne said, "I think I could live happily in here with just a pillow, a blanket, and a knife."
"And me," Jaime reminded her.
"I might share, if you made it worth my while."
"Then we'd better explore the other rooms, that I may find the means to do so," Jaime said, walking ahead of her to open the next door. It was a privy closet.
"It is large and well-appointed, at least," Brienne noted, "but unless you are becoming more flexible in your old age I doubt you'll be proving of use to me in here."
"Ah, but there you're mistaken. Someone has had the foresight to put in a shelf with some books upon it. I could drag an extra chair in here and read to you when you were obliged to bide here for a while. If you wished."
"Ugh, I would not wish." Brienne said, wrinkling her nose at him.
"Just remember that I offered."
"I can very well read to myself, especially in the privy closet. Now, if you wanted to read to me in bed, that I would not turn down."
"Only if you will read to me as well," Jaime smiled, "perhaps we could find a book similar to the one in your father's library."
Brienne laughed lightly, not opposed to the idea. Jaime found that the image of them reading to each other pleased him very well, though he hoped she would do the lion's share of it. Her voice was rich and pleasant to listen to, and he did not read with the ease of his brother Tyrion.
A supply room similar to the pantry was behind the next door. Linens, pots, a pile of kindling, candles and cleaning buckets filled the shelves. Unbidden, the image of Hemikh and Helyn came to Jaime and he shuddered slightly.
"Cold?" Brienne asked.
"Ah, I wish. I was picturing Hemikh and Helyn in the supply closet of the Maidenvault."
"You never actually saw what happened in there, did you?"
"Well, no. Thank the gods."
"If you didn't see, then what picture was in your mind?"
"Picture? Er, there was no picture."
"No picture," Brienne said skeptically.
"None. My mind was as vacant as a snowy beach."
"That, I can believe. But you're imagining it now, aren't you? Trying not to think of it is making you think of it even more."
"Stop, Brienne," Jaime warned her, closing the door to the small room.
"Not until you tell me."
"Only if you tell me what image came to your mind when I mentioned it," Jaime challenged, turning to grin at her.
Brienne smiled and leaned in close to his ear, "I saw…"
Jaime waited as she paused what seemed a long while, her warm breath a pleasant tickle on his neck.
"Frustrating, isn't it?" Brienne finally said, giving his earlobe a quick kiss before walking away from him.
"Wench. I'd tell you what I assumed they were doing, but you'd only regret it. Some things cannot be unseen."
Brienne reached for the handle of the next door and opened it. She ducked inside, laughing. Jaime looked into the large room, which was dominated by a bed that was raised so high off the ground it came with a matching two tiered step in front of it. Brienne was already sitting on the edge, her feet swinging a few inches from the floor.
Jaime stopped at the threshold and leaned against the doorframe, arms crossed and a smirk on his face. He said nothing, waiting until Brienne relented and made some remark.
She was still laughing when she finally said, "So? Are you going to tell me?"
Jaime's smile broadened. He walked toward the bed and halted in front of Brienne. The height of the mattress meant they were face to face, though Brienne was seated. Jaime nudged her thighs apart and stepped between them, resting his hand and stump on her hips. Brienne wrapped her arms loosely around his waist.
"Do you remember what happened last time you asked to hear about what Hemikh did?" He asked, his eyes bright with amusement.
"I…oh!" Brienne said, remembering their first night in the Maidenvault and how he'd turned her request to demonstrate Hemikh's hip thrust at Helyn into something far more interesting. And intimate.
"Regrettably, we don't have time for a reenactment of that night," Jaime said, "But since you wanted to know: I only pictured the two of them doing it in the Dothraki Horse-position. Now that that image is stuck in my head, I'd be pleased to banish it by doing something completely different with you. When we have time."
"Oh," Brienne said, "Yes, I agree. Completely." She moved toward him until her bottom was at the edge of the mattress. Sliding her hands down to his ass, she pulled him tight against her, wrapping her long legs around him, "Because we really do need to be getting on our way to Mott's."
Jaime's breath caught at her boldness. When did she figure out how to tease him so? Then he recalled all the times she'd wriggled against him in their bedroll over the years in seeming innocence, and laughed.
"What's funny?" Brienne asked, a little taken aback.
"Nothing, Wench. I'm just enjoying figuring out so many unexpected things about you."
"Like what?"
"Ah, that would be giving away the game, wouldn't it?" Jaime said, "But maybe you should tell me what you pictured the Dothraki and his unlikely partner doing. Just to help me banish thoughts of what I'd like to do with you on this bed. Otherwise, we'll never get to the forge before dark."
"All right," she said agreeably, "I just had a sudden image of Helyn on her knees…"
"You pictured the same thing I did, then."
"No, it wasn't the Dothraki Horse pose. She was on her knees, on the floor, facing him."
Jaime wasn't able suppress a frustrated groan. The vision that immediately took root in his head didn't involve the other couple in any way.
"I know I'll be sorry I asked, but how do you even know…about that?
"Gods be good, Jaime, I haven't been living on an isolated island somewhere. Not for a long while, anyway. Do you think when I see a whore kneeling in front of a man in camp that I believe she's just keeping his cock from freezing in the cold?"
"Well, I hadn't really thought…"
"I believe the term I've heard bandied about is 'cocksucker,' not 'cockwarmer', though generally it's men calling other men that in anger. Still, I assume there's some connection."
Jaime didn't answer. He backed away from her, remarking blandly, "This is a nice room, don't you think? I'm surprised there's no dragon motif, considering Daenerys had this house built."
Brienne had a satisfied smirk on her face, bu answered him amiably enough,"These are dragons, see?"She ran her hand over the silk blanket she was sitting on, "this pattern is all interlinked dragons. It's also on the draperies against the far wall there."
Jaime walked over and examined the drapery fabric until his body had calmed some. He pushed one panel aside and looked out the thick panes of the window, which overlooked a large, dry yard that was covered by the old dome.
"Brienne, did you know there's a place out here you could use for training Viserion?"
"No, the queen never mentioned one." She went to stand next to him and saw a space that could accommodate half a dozen dragons with wings spread. There were huge stone pillars anchored into the ground with heavy iron chains attached. "I bet they used this arena to train dragons before the Pit was burned during the Dance of Dragons."
"They've only rebuilt some of the dome and enclosures; maybe there are more useful artifacts to be found," Jaime said, "We can have Lavakhat and Hemikh look through old cages and rubble for anything useful."
"That should keep them out of trouble until I figure out what I'll need them for besides flinging parts of sheep as dragon rewards."
Jaime laughed, imaging Viserion sitting up and begging.
"Are we done in this room, my lady? We should finish looking around."
"We're done for now, Ser Jaime," Brienne said, giving him a cheeky smile, "there are at least three more rooms to explore."
"Do you think you can behave yourself in the next one?"
"Me? All I did was sit on the bed. I've never seen such a tall bed. What function could it serve?"
Several thoughts and images passed through Jaime's mind rather quickly, each of them featuring Brienne and the bed and not one of them involving sleep. Brienne was looking at him, and he realized she was expecting an answer to her question.
"I've no idea, Sweetling. I'm sure there must be some purpose we can't possibly imagine."
Brienne gave him a knowing look and they both left the room smiling.
The next room was also a bed chamber, unremarkable in any way except for the clashing purple and red velvet that Dany sometimes favored
"It looks like a brothel," Jaime remarked.
"Seen that many, have you?" Brienne asked.
"Hauled Tyrion out of that many."
The final room appeared to be servant's quarters, comfortable but plain. Jaime supposed they could have Agnes move in there to look after their needs, but the more he thought about it the more he liked the idea of having the house all to themselves.
With that thought happily settled in his mind, they retrieved their horses and set out for the other side of the city and the Street of Steel.
