Jaime barely felt the sting of his lower lip as Brienne softly pressed the wet cloth to the gash opened there by the morning's foe. He cared not about the discomfort or any scar which might be left, considering both as badges of honor in defense of the woman who would soon be his wife. She sat now before him, her precious face loving and consumed with care. He stared at Brienne, captivated as if she were a dream. Jaime realized it was not the first time he had beheld her that way, lovestruck and awed. He recalled the times he watched her, his heart aching, unable to declare the love that burned within him. At last, nothing would ever part them again.
As Jaime's thoughts carried on without him, Brienne pulled the damp linen back from his mouth, grimacing as she saw the blood that had collected upon it. She sighed slowly, and raised her fingers to his jaw. Gently she drew her thumb over the wound, hoping to sooth the swollen and broken skin. "Why did you do this?" Brienne questioned, her brow creased with worry.
Jaime took Brienne's hand solidly within his grasp, swearing a silent oath to her. "No one will ever question your character, not while I draw breath." Jaime proclaimed proudly. "I shall exact my retribution upon whomever has the audacity to speak your name with contempt." He told her. To him she was a goddess and blaspheming against her, a mortal sin.
Brienne lowered her eyes under Jaime's adoration. "I don't need anyone to defend me." She replied quietly. "I can take care of myself. I've been doing so all my life." Brienne reminded him, even as she recalled each time he had willingly faced danger and death so that she would be protected.
Drawing closer to her, Jaime caught Brienne in his gaze. "I know you have." He acknowledged. "And The God's help any man who has underestimated you." He smiled in worship, recalling a few well placed punches she had given him on a bridge as they traveled southward, when she soundly trounced him. Brienne granted him a bashful grin in response. Jaime pulled her into his arms. "You shall never again need to face those threats alone." He vowed.
"You have me, now." Jaime proclaimed triumphantly to Brienne. "I shall be your husband and protector." His eyes danced with glee at his new position.
Brienne stared transfixed into the brilliant emerald jewels that were Jaime's eyes. "You have kept me safe." She answered, her face clouding with the memories of his sacrifice as her graceful caress trailed over the mangled and scarred flesh of his stumped arm. "You have already given so much for me." Brienne's voice quivered, her voice failing her.
Jaime held her even tighter to him. He studied the space where his right hand had once been, and scoffed. "I have given nothing." He told Brienne earnestly. "Every scourge and regret I count against my own life was forged by that very sword hand." He lamented. "Each loathsome deed which was accomplished in Cersei's name was done with those fingers wrapped around my steel." Jaime's lips twisted in disgust as he spoke. "It was with that appendage that I struck down my own king, and was labeled traitor because of it." Jaime smirked. "I am well rid of it." He declared.
Then, without even an expression of trauma or remorse, Jaime's glowering became a wistful smile. His gaze turned reverently back to Brienne, her face resting against his chest as she looked up into his eyes. "Its' loss saved your life." Jaime sighed in relief, weaving his fingers through the sunshine of Brienne's hair. "That, I could never grieve." He kissed her temple. "I have gained so much more." Jaime smiled in wonder, his hand tracing the curve of Brienne's rounded belly, where it came to rest protectively atop the tiny stirrings of life within her.
Breathing in deep the scent of him, Brienne at last allowed herself to relax. She nestled deeper into Jaime's embrace. "We shall protect each other." She corrected him lovingly.
Tenderly Jaime lifted Brienne's chin and brought her face to his. "As we always have." He whispered lowly before he kissed her long and slow.
Brienne stepped into the chill of the night. The frigid fingers of the breeze played with her hair and danced tantalizingly upon her skin. The crisp cold air satisfied her lungs as her breathing rushed, quickened by excitement. Brienne paused a moment to enjoy the anticipation of what the evening would bring. She was uncertain if the shivering which ran through her was due to the frozen world in which she stood, or the certainty that soon she would be joined with Jaime, forever as one.
It had been hours since Queen Sansa had paraded a bevy of young maids and Northern court ladies into Brienne's chamber, determined to give her protector and friend a proper bride's day. Brienne had not even gotten word of Jaime since Lord Tyrion, along with his own cohort Ser Podrick, whisked her betrothed away to celebrate his last moments of bachelorhood. She had never imagined being wed. It was a dream Brienne had sacrificed the day, as a young girl, she sheared off her long braid and donned her first armor. There was no idea in Brienne's mind what should occur on a wedding day. She was honored that The Queen in the North would go to such trouble for her sake. So Brienne did not protest the commotion surrounding her, and allowed the women to ready her for the ceremony that was to occur in the Godswood. It was the longest measure of time Brienne and Jaime had been parted since he returned to her, and she missed him terribly.
"You look positively radiant, My Dear." Lord Selwyn smiled, offering his outstretched hand to Brienne. He had been waiting in Winterfell's courtyard for his daughter to make her appearance. He would escort Brienne to the Godswood, to where her groom was already awaiting her arrival.
"Thank you, Father." Brienne blushed and reached for his arm to steady herself. She glanced bashfully downward, inspecting her chosen bridal attire, unconsciously smoothing the fabric. She had politely discouraged Queen Sansa from setting every seamstress in the North to work on a wedding gown, preferring her own Tarthian blue tunic and leather gambeson, both now proportioned appropriately for her growing silhouette. The sapphire silk of her ancestral cloak draped Brienne's shoulders and almost glowed in the soft moonlight.
"A very sensible choice., to be married in your own knight's uniform." Lord Selwyn remarked, his eyes twinkling.
Brienne smiled dreamily, her thoughts distant. "This is what I wore when Jaime fell in love with me." She replied, her heart thrilling to hear the words spoken. "In this I shall wed him." She declared happily.
The Evenstar regarded his daughter proudly. "From what I can tell, I cannot imagine Ser Jaime Lannister finding fault with you in anything." Brienne's father beamed. Since his arrival in The North, the depth and strength of the love shared between his only child and Ser Jaime had become abundantly clear. However, as any good father should, he wanted to offer Brienne one more option.
"Say the word." Lord Selwyn said softly as he drew close to Brienne."Say the word, and we shall be sailing for Tarth before they know we have gone." He offered.
"Father?" Brienne almost chuckled at his protectiveness.
Lord Selwyn was not deterred. "Are you absolutely certain this is what you want?" He implored.
A thoughtful loving expression crossed Brienne's face, before her gaze turned unfaltering serious. She grasped her father's hand in her strong grip and looked deep into his eyes. "I have never been more certain of anything in my life." She declared.
Lord Selwyn softly touched Brienne's cheek and nodded assuredly. "That's what I thought." He smiled.
Jaime fidgeted unsteadily and swayed from one foot to the other as he stood beside Tyrion. In the moonlight, the groom and his attendant made a glowing outline against the ancient Weirwood tree in the Godswood of House Stark, awaiting Brienne's approach. With a nervous tug at his collar, Jaime swallowed a hard lump in his throat. The day had begun so differently than it was ending. His bold fearlessness in the avenging of Brienne's honor was as familiar to him as the back of the one hand he had left. He had known such bravery daily since he first picked up a sword. Jaime prided himself that his nerves never got the better if him. Of breathless expectation he was unaccustomed. This was something entirely strange to him, and blissfully wonderful. Before Brienne stole his heart and the very breath from his lungs, Jaime was charging unabashed toward his future, and certain there was none. All that mattered was glory. It was in that pursuit, for Cersei he was sure to give his life.
This night Jaime stood upon an foreign precipice, a life he had never known, and one he desired so wholly and desperately. The years that now stretched before him would be filled with love. The woman he treasured more than his own life, his Brienne, would soon be joined to him as his beloved wife. He would be husband, Lord, father. A tiny fearful shiver ran up Jaime's spine, and his heart raced with apprehension. It was not a fear of marriage to Brienne which shook him. It was the terror that he would never be the man she deserved which made Jaime's posture quiver and turned the moisture in his mouth to dust. There was no doubt in him that he would never be good enough for her. Still, the heart that now danced in chest and whose every beat cried out only Brienne's name ached for the pain he had caused her. Deep down Jaime's soul lamented that he would never truly be the honorable man he always wished to be. Yet, Brienne believed that he was, and perhaps that was enough.
At Jaime's side Tyrion recalled his own wedding as he peered across the clearing to Sansa, the girl who was once his bride, standing a little too casually and far too close to Sandor Clegane, in his opinion. Tyrion had noticed their partiality to each other. His brow wrinkled in consideration of what that might mean. He feared he knew all too well.
"Where did you find a septon?" Jaime's edgy whisper distracted Tyrion from his suspicions.
"Hmmm?" Tyrion questioned, only half listening to his brother's inquiry.
"This is the North." Jaime continued. "The Dominion of The Old Gods." He eyed Tyrion, partly alarmed but mostly impressed. "There are surely precious few Holy men of The Seven up here." He conjectured.
"Lord Selwyn brought his own." Tyrion replied with an ominously sly smirk. Jaime's agitation returned at his brother's implied warning.
"Are you quite certain you wish to go through with this?" Tyrion questioned snidely.
Jaime turned an insulted raised brow in Tyrion's direction, already expecting some callous remark on Brienne's appearance. "Wed the woman I love?" He asked for clarification. To Jaime, no angel in The Heavens could have been more exquisite than the Maid of Tarth.
Tyrion shrugged, ignoring the annoyance in Jaime's tone. "All I'm saying is that you have never truly tasted bachelorhood." He grinned teasingly, knowing how deeply Jaime loved Brienne, and that none of his jests would take root in either his brother's mind nor his heart. Still, he could not resist continuing his farce. "Being unencumbered can be quite enjoyable." Tyrion explained to the roll of Jaime's eyes. "Think of it, go where you want, do whatever you want, with whomever you want." He snickered lustfully.
"I am doing that." Jaime protested, at last aware of Tyrion's humorous argument.
"Imagine the adventures. The pleasures of the flesh." Tyrion's eyes flashed up at Jaime, lecherous in the glow of the torches which lit the Godswood. "Your last hinderance is, thankfully, dead and gone, ashes." He breathed a sigh of relief. "Do you really wish to tie yourself down with a wife, now?" Tyrion chuckled. "An armored one at that." He declared. "That could be very dangerous." Tyrion shuddered exaggeratingly to emphasis his point.
Jaime threw his head back and laughed heartily. He let his arm hang casually to his side and draped it around Tyrion's shoulder. His mind imagined with explicit clarity the glorious long lines of Brienne's body which he had grown so accustomed to enjoying, his own personal paradise. "Oh Dear Brother." Jaime snarled haughtily. "You have no idea what is under that armor." He taunted with glee.
Like a bolt from the Heavens, Jaime could almost sense Brienne near. It was the same familiar attachment which had always kept them bound, even from across the entire continent of Westeros itself. He stepped from Tyrion's banter to peer along the path that led from Winterfell's main keep. Jaime's vision faltered at first, blurred in the haze of the day's dusting of snow as it met the chilled breeze of night. Crystals stirred by the blustering air rose and danced through the trees, making the Godswood glisten and shimmer like the stars.
At last he saw her. Brienne emerged from the shadows, ethereal on her father's arm. The same moon that witnessed Jaime's greatest disgrace when he left her here sobbing with heartbreak, and which had glared so coldly upon them on that forlorn night, now cast its light upon Brienne as bright and warm as the sun itself. She shone like an angel sent to him from The Gods. Jaime was uncertain if Brienne walked or floated on heavenly wings as she approached.
Their pace seemed slower than Jaime could bear. He prayed that Lord Selwyn would hasten his stride. To his relief, the self-conscious smile on Brienne's lips widened and softened as he came into her view. The bashful blush of her cheeks deepened until Jaime was convinced that his heart would burst with the love he felt for her. Once as a boy, before Cersei had tarnished his life with her carnal explorations and maneuvered him into her abhorrent web, he had traveled with his parents to the wedding of a cousin. Even more than the opulence and pageantry of the gala, Jaime recalled being touched by the obvious love the couple shared. For a moment, he had allowed himself to wonder if he might come to know such a bond once he was grown. It was a short lived hope, which was soon to be destroyed by his own sister. To fill the roles and obligation that were determined for him, Jaime grew to surrender those imaginings of a true and real love, until he almost believed he had never wanted it at all. That was until Brienne of Tarth entered his life.
Although he could not admit it at the time, not even to himself, Jaime remembered the exact moment his heart was captured by The Maid of Tarth. As if he could ever forget. As he watched Brienne, his bride, being led toward him, Jaime envisioned the scene he had witnessed when they traveled along the King's Road. He saw her so tall and proud, strong and determined as she cut down three Stark men along the side of the dirt path, avenging women she did not even know. It was enough that their lives had been ended cruely and unjustly. A fate Brienne could not abide. Before her blade had sliced completely through her first assailant, the passion and strength with which Brienne stood her ground and then attacked wrapped themselves around Jaime's heart, into his very soul, and even when they were parted had never let go. Jaime could not take his eyes from her then, as now. Brienne was all he saw, the only living being that filled his mind and his heart.
Lord Selwyn guided Brienne proudly to Jaime's side. The old man stood for a moment, staring wistfully at his daughter, as if seeing her once more as the hopeful girl she had once been. Softly, he bent and placed a kiss upon Brienne's cheek. There were tears in the old man's eyes when he stood back to admire his child. With a nod The Evenstar turned to Jaime, and placed Brienne's hand within his. Then, Lord Selwyn stepped back and stood a few paces from the couple. It felt to Jaime as though their fingers had always been intertwined, he had simply not found her. Now she was here, and she was his. He would never let her go.
Brienne was a vision. Jaime could scarcely breath. She always took his breath away, but this time was different. Now, he would join his life with hers. How could he have imagined that anyone other than she was the second half of his soul? The future at last lay before him, and it was her. He managed to tear his gaze from Brienne's astonishing eyes to notice that she had chosen leather and not lace for her bridal attire. He was glad of it. The tunic and trousers suited her, far more than any gown ever could. Though he wondered how long she could maintain her accustomed accoutrements. Jaime's happy smile came to rest on the bulge of Brienne's belly. Their babe seemed to have grown even in the short time he had been restored to its mother's side. A rush of excitement shivered through him to imagine the family that would shortly be his.
With a wise and gracious countenance, the Septon addressed Jaime. "You may now cloak the bride and bring her under your protection." He declared.
Biting her lip shyly, Brienne stepped closer to Jaime. She bent her knees ever so slightly, and with an endearing grace. His fingers trembled as he carefully unwove the braided silver thread tassle tied at her throat. He noticed she had woven it loosely, and thanked her within a knowing grin. In the chilly northern night, the lush fabric was cool to his touch as Jaime slid Brienne's familial colors down her arms. He blushed, imagining the pale blue tunic she wore following the same path when he would be alone with her later that night.
Folding the precious garment, Jaime handled Brienne's cloak like a rare treasure as he laid it into Lord Selwyn's hands. The Evenstar smiled proudly, and lowered his chin graciously, welcoming Jaime into his family. Following the symbolic exchange, the old lord joined those watching along the edges of the little clearing that encircled the ancient Weirwood tree. He was now merely a spectator watching his beloved daughter wed the man for whom she was destined. Jaime returned his full attention to his bride. His stance was as straight as an archer's arrow. His chin held high, he regarded Brienne as if she were a singular gems and he the luckiest man in the world to have plucked it from where it hid. Almost frantically, eager to enwrap Brienne in the colors of his house, Jaime tugged at the closure of his own cloak and pulled it from his neck. Gently, he wrapped the red brocade around her glorious frame and tied it tenderly at her throat, glad it would warm her in the night air. As he fastened the finery with his less than precise hand, Jaime felt a shiver within Brienne's shoulder and heard a quivering gasp escape her lips. Alarmed, he searched her face, only to find a loving smile upon her lips and happy tears mingling through her lashes. He fought himself not to kiss her.
"My Lords, My Ladies." The Septon began, peering out at the little gathering. "We stand here in the sight of gods and men to witness the union of man and wife. One flesh, one heart, one soul, now and forever." He paused and lowered his gaze thoughtfully over the happy couple, who seemed not even to remember that anyone else stood within the Godswood.
With an excited sigh of anticipation Jaime reached for Brienne's hand. He laid her graceful fingers atop his own as she stared longingly at him. Their grasps entwined, the bride and groom lifted their hands for the Septon to join. "Let it be known that Ser Brienne of House Tarth and Ser Jaime of House Lannister are one heart, one flesh, one soul." The holy man asserted as he wrapped their hands in a wide ribbon of white silk. "Cursed be he who would seek to tear them asunder." He warned. A knowing look passed between Jaime and Brienne, each envisioning all they had overcome for their love to triumph, and those who might have kept them apart.
"In the sight of the Seven, I hereby seal these two souls, binding them as one for eternity." The Septon announced, almost in challenge to the fates that had once torn Jaime from Brienne's side.
The old man then peered earnestly at Jaime and Brienne. "Look upon each other and speak the words". He bid
Brienne and Jaime turned to face each other, the magnitude of their pledge shining on their faces. "Father, Smith, Warrior, Mother, Maiden, Crone, Stranger." They chanted the promise together, their voices mixing like a heavenly chorus.
"I am hers and she is mine." Jaime swore proudly, his chest rising and falling chaotically as the beating of his heart threatened to overtake his breathing. Every moment he had spent in awe of Brienne visited his mind once more. He felt again, the longing he feared he would never be free to express. Those shadows of fear and secrecy which had loomed over the beginning of their love would never threaten them again.
"I am his and he is mine." Brienne uttered her own oath concurrent to Jaime's words. Her heart raced so that she was sure it echoed through the leaves of the Weirwood tree. She had thought her dear love lost to her. The certainty of raising his child alone had loomed dauntingly before her. Then, when she had accepted the road laid out before them, Jaime returned swearing his love and offering his life to her. The same one he had nearly lost to protect her. Brienne's silently gave thanks to the divinity which must have watched over them both. Such a chance was not offered to many. The fact that it should be given to her left Brienne humbled and grateful, and so deliriously joyful that the life she had resolved to spend alone would now be shared with the man she loved so dearly. Never, would she take for granted the blessings they had been given.
As if the tiny babe nestled securely within her womb understood each of Brienne's thoughts, she felt the little life she and Jaime created kick at her side in approval. A mesmerizing smile settled upon her face. Jaime thought he might succumb to her grace, and yes beauty, for that was truly what she was to him, a beauty. "I am yours and you are mine, from this day, until the end of my days." They proclaimed together, knowing their passion and love would last far beyond this life itself.
Approvingly, and far too slowly for the groom's liking, the Septon unraveled the ribbon from their hands. Unable to wait a moment longer, Jaime ignored the solemnity of the occasion and took Brienne strongly and passionately in his arms. She melted into his embrace. "With this kiss, I pledge my love." He swore to her, and sealed his declaration upon her lips, long and deep.
As if they had been given new life, Jaime and Brienne filled their lungs with the crisp northern air, and turned to their small audience. They clung to each other, intoxicated in their joy. Jaime's stumped arm wrapped possessively around Brienne's waist, while his left hand rested protectively upon her rounded belly. He was taking full advantage of cherishing each moment as husband and father. Brienne nestled against him, content in the bond they shared and the future they would build together.
"Ser Jaime and Ser Brienne Lannister." Tyrion announced in appreciation.
"Of Tarth!" Jaime added quickly and loudly, celebrating his bride, and accepting another kiss from her to the hearty exuberant applause of those gathered around them.
The wedding feast lasted far into the night. Though the attendance was modest, Winterfell's Great Hall was a sumptuous scene of merriment in honor of Brienne and Jaime, and the celebration of their marriage.
The feast was grand and lavish. The wine flowed freely. The honored guests enjoyed a multitude of entertainment with minstrels and bards, jugglers and musicians of all sorts. No expense was spared, and the finest the North had to offer was laid out before the bride and groom. Brienne and Jaime spent most of the evening not a hair's breadth apart, staring adoringly at each other. Everyone swore they had never seen a greater testament to wedded bliss.
A more lively event could scarcely be recalled. A boisterous Lord Selwyn partook in as much wine as Lord Tyrion and the pair soon presented quite the drunken and melodious spectacle. Podrick acquired the interest of a few young ladies, and was soon enjoying being the center of their efforts to gain his favor. As usual Sandor Clegane strayed not one pace from Queen Sansa's side. He in turn was rewarded with the full and loving attention of his charge, to the point that many wagered they would be next to stand before the Weirwood tree, unaware the secret couple had already pledged their vows to each other there. Jaime spent the night watching over Brienne, and she had at last decided to let him.
The joyous atmosphere made it all the more concerning when the newlyweds were summoned to the Queen's solar as the festivities waned. Brienne and Jaime took their leave of the well-wishers in The Great Hall and walked arm in arm through the darkened and quiet corridors. Their hearts still raced with the giddiness of their new joyous union. Yet, neither wished to admit to the other that their worries fell upon what might have caused The Queen to request their presence.
They entered to find Queen Sansa seated upon a cushioned settee beside the fire. She appeared fatigued and did not rise when Brienne and Jaime arrived to answer her appeal for their audience. Sandor Clegane, who had clearly been kneeling before her, stood to his full height, and showed no sign of leaving as he moved to guard Sansa. His expression was creased with his ever-present scowl. The Queen in North greeted her guests with a warm caring smile.
"Please." Sansa asked of Brienne, who was herself weary from the celebration. "Sit beside me." She requested, patting the empty space on the cushion where she relaxed.
Brienne gave Jaime a comforting nod, and regarded him tenderly as she accepted The Queen's offer. He, in turn, moved to stand sentinel over his expectant new wife. With a graceful flow made cumbersome only by the curve of the child she carried, Brienne settled herself next to Sansa. She was grateful for the softness of the upholstery, and the respite it gave to her swollen ankles.
"The ceremony was so beautiful." Sansa complimented with a genuine affection usually only afforded to family. Brienne accepted the flattery with a loving look up at Jaime, who stepped closer and rested his hand tenderly upon her shoulder.
"For a moment it almost appeared the both of you forgot there was anyone else in the Godswood." She grinned wistfully. "That is at it should be." She nodded.
Sansa graced Sandor with an adoring gaze. "It reminded me of our wedding." She admitted, turning toward her husband and reaching for his hand. Sandor obliged her his strong protective grip over her thin fingers.
Brienne's eyes widened in astonishment as Jaime forced proper demeanor to keep his jaw from dropping open. "Your Grace?" Brienne questioned, confused.
Queen Sansa blushed at the intimacy she had just revealed. "Sandor and I were married several moons ago." She acknowledged, confirming the suspicions that she and The Hound were far too partial towards each other for their interactions to be based upon anything but a deep and abiding love.
"Then it is you we should be celebrating, Your Grace." Jaime spoke up, recalling the girl he had once sent Brienne to find, happy with the course which all their lives had taken.
Sansa smiled graciously and shook her head. "Not at all." She refused. "It warms my heart that I could give you this day." She told them. "It is the least that House Stark owes to you both." She said, envisioning the memory of Brienne and Jaime battling defiantly against the forces of the Night King to defend Winterfell.
"Surely, your marriage must at least be announced." Brienne replied. This day, as the bride, she had felt more regal than any queen. Though usually one to shy from attention, the care and excitement which had surrounded her had given Brienne a sense of being more special than ever she had known in her life. Desperately, she wished such an experience for her young benefactor.
Sansa tilted her neck uncertainly. "We have discussed it." She looked again at Sandor and than back to Brienne. "We shall need to present our union quite tactfully to the Northern Lords." She acquiesced.
"Is it any of their concern?" Jaime huffed. The arrogant nature of his upbringing rising to the surface.
The Queen smiled understandably. "I appreciate your indignation on our behalf, Ser Jaime. However, their are those who will not easily accept my vows to…" Sansa trailed off, choosing her words carefully.
It was Sandor who found them for her. "She married beneath her, and the cunts won't ever let her forget it." He growled.
"I did not marry beneath me." She whirled upon her husband for his low opinion of himself. "My father once said that when the time was right he would choose the proper husband for me, someone brave and gentle and strong." Sansa's eyes grew heavy to think of Ned Stark's promise. "I believe that is exactly what he did." Her gaze upon Sandor softened. His bristling temper eased.
"If it is an upheaval you fear, Your Grace, you have my word we will always be here to protect House Stark." Brienne swore, even as her thoughts turned to the danger that might bring to her little family. She stroked her waistline unconsciously with a silent oath to her unborn child for the safety and shelter she would provide.
Clearing her throat, Sansa raised her eyes apprehensively to Brienne. "It is that very subject I wished to discuss with you, and Ser Jaime." Sansa replied, eyeing both with an anxious expression.
Sansa took a calming breath and determined her best approach should be bluntly honest, anything less would be an insult. "Ser Brienne." She stated formally. "I hereby release you from your oath to House Stark." Sansa proclaimed.
Brienne's face fell. Her shoulders rose as if she were trying to catch the last of the breath that was rushing from her lungs. At her side, Jaime tensed, certain Queen Sansa's decision had more to do with him than Brienne.
After a moment, Brienne found a small and quiet voice. "Have I displeased you, Your Grace?" She asked numbly, blinking back painful tears.
Eager to explain, Sansa reached and took Brienne's hand. "I feared you would assume so." She shook her head. "Hear me now, Ser Brienne." She began, officiously. "You have given no slight, nor created any cause to believe your loyalty untrue. You have served House Stark with valor, and upheld the oaths you swore to myself as well as to my Lady Mother, with greater strength and resolve than anyone could have." Sansa bowed her head reverently.
"It is with a heavy heart that I free you from this bond." The Queen said sadly. "But I have a new Sword to protect me, now." Sansa gave a quick loving look to Sandor. "And you have others who should be your undivided priority." Sansa grinned happily at Brienne's rounded form, and then nodded knowingly to Jaime. He understood she was also passing care of Brienne to him, a role he had already accepted whole heartedly.
At last comprehending Queen Sansa's purpose, Brienne took her hand from The Queen's grasp and brought her fingers to clutch Jaime's which still rested upon her shoulder. "I understand." She answered. "It has been an honor." Brienne answered lifting her head proudly.
"I am pleased you feel that way." Queen Sansa stated coyly. "I hope that you shall always remain united with House Stark." She affirmed. "It is also my wish that you will accept my gifts to you, in commemoration of your wedding." Sansa offered humbly.
Brienne attempted to refuse on principle. "Your Grace, you have already gifted us beyond measure." She assured. "You have trusted me with your life, sheltered us, and blessed us by allowing our marriage in your Godswood." Brienne smiled in gratitude.
"It brought me great joy to do so." Sansa replied. "Yet there is one thing more that I would like to provide, for all you have done for me." Her voice quivered as she spoke. "You are more than my protector, Brienne." Sansa declared. "You are my friend." She said earnestly.
Before Brienne could protest further, Sansa continued, unwilling to accept another denial. "I would like to give you the Dreadfort." She told Brienne and Jaime plainly. Her tone held none of the ominous foreboding that would be her right at the mention of the home of her abuser, Ramsay.
"The Bolton stronghold?" Jaime asked, as he and Brienne stared at each other is shock.
Brienne expression quickly registered concern and worry for her Queen. "You Grace, your history with that family." She reminded subtly. "Surely it would be better to demolish their home." She suggested.
Sansa smiled appreciatively. "It is no longer their home, and they can no longer hurt me." She affirmed with strength. "I saw to that." Sansa bit her lip slyly, and enjoyed a moment of memory, still hearing the music of Ramsay's screams as he was devoured by his own hounds. With a knowing glance, she squeezed Sandor's fingers a bit more tightly. He chuckled with pride, understanding her thoughts, and wishing he had been there to see her triumph over the slimy Bolton cunt.
Then, regaining her composure, Sansa addressed Brienne and Jaime once more. "The North needs all of our fortresses." She replied, her face edged with a soft blush. "We need to be protected, especially now." She said, her tone small and shy.
At once attentive to Sansa's meaning the Queen's guests leaned forward, worry set upon their faces. "Has there been a threat?" Brienne asked urgently, her palm traveling reflexively to cover her unborn child. Jaime's stance grew rigid. If it meant his life, he would not allow Brienne and their babe to be drawn into a battle now.
Sansa smiled in gratitude. "No, there is no cause for alarm." She answered serenely. Her calm posture eased the knights. "I meant that it will be good now for House Stark to have loyal and strong bannermen." She lowered her gaze and raised her own hand to cover her still slender abdomen. "I too shall soon be a mother." Sansa stared warmly at Brienne in comradery.
"Oh, Your Grace. What wonderful news." Brienne gushed happily.
"It would please me to know you are near." Sansa begged. "Not only as protector, but as confidant." She smiled hopefully. "Perhaps our children might be companions." Sansa thought aloud. With a far away flash in her eyes, Brienne joined the young Queen in her hopes for their babes.
"There needs to be life, and light, and happiness at Dreadfort." Sansa continued. "I believe there will be, with your stewardship there." She commended. "It will not be so dreadful with good people of honor to fill its halls with love and laughter." Sansa told them.
Brienne and Jaime studied each other. Never had they imagined such an accolade. Brienne raised her brow and regarded her husband proudly. To be thought of as a good man was all Jaime had ever desired. He saw the gleam in her eye, and recalled the time that no one thought him decent, or respectable. He had known what it was like to be disparaged and reviled. He could scarcely believe that it was Sansa Stark herself, who had been so maligned and abused by his own family who now proclaimed his honor. Once that good reputation was all he desired, now all he wanted sat before him, filled with his child. Brienne was the realization of every dream he had ever held dear. He would do anything for her.
Aware of their shock and apprehension, Sansa trudged on with her plea. "You could rename the fortress." She offered. "Perhaps something less ominous." She said, trying her best to persuade them. "Would you permit me a suggestion?" She asked, kindly.
"Please do." Jaime and Brienne answered together, their eyes wide at the possibilities of their new home.
Sansa bowed her head respectfully. "I thought perhaps, Even Rock might be fitting." She suggested.
"Even?" Brienne whispered, already dreaming of their home.
"For Evenfall." Jaime finished for her.
"Rock?" Jaime repeated, imagining his Lady there.
"As in Casterly Rock." Brienne added in his place. Their astonished smiles met.
Queen Sansa cleared her throat, realizing the significance of what she had just imparted. "There is one more thing I would like to do…for you, Ser Jaime." She interrupted.
"For me?" Jaime asked quizzically.
Sansa straighten regally where she sat. "You shall be the proprietor of a vast estate. Yours will be one of the greatest names in the North." She proclaimed. "For that purpose, I wish to confer upon you a Lordship, as a Bannerman of House Stark." Sansa announced.
Speechless, Jaime looked to Brienne for guidance. Deep within her sapphire blue eyes he found all the answer he needed. He breathed deep, standing stoic beside Brienne, enjoying at last the feeling of true belonging. Without words, he stepped before the Queen and drew Widows Wail from the scabbard at his side. Reverently, he knelt, the tip of his sword balanced upon the stone floor, his hand grasping the jeweled hilt in front of him. Jaime turned to gaze lovingly at Brienne, who nodded her agreement. Then lifting his eye solemnly to The Queen in The North, he spoke. "You honor me, Your Grace." He affirmed. "You honor us, our family, and our house." Jaime acknowledged gratefully. "From this day forward, House Lannister of Even Rock swears it's fealty to House Stark, to you, and to your heirs." Lord Lannister vowed.
"Allow me, Lady Lannister." Jaime growled seductively into Brienne's neck from behind as she struggled to remove her tunic.
Brienne smiled and leaned her head back against him, enjoying the tickle which ran down her spine at the feel of his hot breath on her skin. "Why thank you, My Lord." She teased, though her tone held only the pride she felt for his new title.
"Mmm. I like that." He chuckled, as he slipped his arms around her. With the clumsy fingers of his left hand, Jaime opened the stays which held together the blue fabric of her garment and hid her glorious figure from him. The stump of his right arm rested lovingly upon his Lady Wife's swollen belly.
Brienne turned and caressed Jaime's cheek. "You earned it." She praised. "The Queen has every confidence in you." Brienne gushed. "And so do I." She told him, tenderly.
Jaime took Brienne's hand and brought it to his lips. "Thank you, My Love." He smiled through the kisses he placed on her fingertips."But I meant, I like you calling me Lord." He laughed. Brienne rolled her eyes at his jest even as she dissolved in mirth against Jaime's chest.
"Let me help you." He offered, turning her once more and sliding the now open tunic down her back. Lustfully, he traced the lines of Brienne's bare shoulders with his lips. The soft moan of enjoyment which his exploration elicited from her throat caused Jaime's own body to react needfully. Brienne gasped playfully, as she felt his erection growing against her ass. He held her in place against him as his hand found its way to the waistline of her britches. He loved the way she had requested the seamstresses remake them to accommodate their growing child. She now wore them low on her hips, below her pregnant belly, which left precious little resistance in the design for his roving finger. The drawstring, she now kept loose, which again left nothing to hinder his path. With a quick flick of his wrist Jaime made short work of the bow that secured the cord. Smiling in victory, he continued on his quest toward the soft curls between her legs, and the sensitive skin beneath. Reaching his destination, Jaime breathed a long low sigh of satisfaction as a wanting cry of anticipation sprang uncontrollably from Brienne's lips.
Almost as quickly as he had begun to work her Jaime used the turn of his arm to lower Brienne's britches to her thighs and pulled his fingers away with a naughty grin. Brienne was left on the verge of begging for more. The little disappointed pout of her enticing lips drove him mad. He kissed her urgently, before she could speak.
"In good time, My Wife." He tantalized her, when he left her lips.
Returning his attentions to his work, Jaime bent and moved the fabric down Brienne's long slender legs. He manipulated each leg over the tall leather of her boots, until the garment lay in a dark woven puddle at her feet. Brienne used an exaggerated flex of her thigh muscles to kick the trousers across the floor at an angle that brought her ass close to his face. Jaime stretched his neck and kissed the soft pink skin before him. Then he gave the roundness of her rump a quick bite. Brienne screamed in delight.
"Come with me." Jaime ordered.
Feining surprise, Brienne stared shocked at his suggestion. "I'm still in my boots." She attempted to remind him.
Jaime turned in mocking exasperation. "Patience, Wife!" He ordered.
Brienne's jaw fell open as she stifled her laughter, enjoying his forceful charade. Her eyes sparkled at the merriment they enjoyed. Taking full advantage of her distraction, Jaime took Brienne gently by the shoulders and led her to their bed. With the greatest of care, he settled her slowly down upon the mattress. With a kiss, Jaime laid Brienne back, nestling her onto the pillows.
With a gentle hand, Jaime lifted Brienne's legs and maneuvered himself onto the bed beneath them. She watched him with glee, anticipating where his journey would lead. Carefully, Jaime took one of Brienne's feet and pulled the buttery leather boot she wore from around her ankle. Eyeing her as if the act had taken the utmost skill and she should be impressed with his prowess, he flung the footwear to the floor. It landed with a loud thunking sound. Without taking his charming grin from Brienne, Jaime deposited the other boot beside the first.
Jaime cradled Brienne's leg on his stumped arm while he worked the knots from her sore tired feet with his left hand. Slowly, methodically, he moved from her toes, to her arch, and up to her ankle. He attended to Brienne's calf muscles with the same diligence. She lost herself in the relaxing sensations Jaime's fingers were providing. Reflexively she leaned her head back and moaned with pleasure, stretching the blood into her limbs and arching her back. Jaime reveled in her reaction, feeling his own arousal and need for her growing once more. He gave equal attention to her other leg, and found her blissful enjoyment enthralling.
The tension drawn from her muscles, Brienne laid back and scribbled tiny unseen circles over the tightened skin of her abdomen, soothing the little nudges from within. She studied her husband with a luxurious leer. Gods, he was perfect. Not for the first time in the past days did she wonder how it had come to pass that one such as he could have paid her any mind at all, much less fallen in love with her. She had forced herself to block from her mind the memory of that wretched ball given in the days of her youth, when her father's best intentions had become a crushing torment. In truth, it had been many years since Brienne had given her own wishes even a passing thought. Her life had been filled with the needs of others. It was not until she discovered herself carrying Jaime's child, that Brienne began to consider anything regarding her needs. Then, it was all that mattered. Now he had returned to her, his love stronger than ever. They were joined as one, and Brienne's life was so wonderfully different than anything she could have imagined.
With expert precision, Jaime kneaded the final knot from Brienne's heels. He lifted her long exquisite toes to his lips and kissed them soundly. He then set her foot gingerly down upon the sheets. Gleefully enjoying the agony of the wait he caused, Jaime rose from the bed and took his sweet time disrobing. He knew it was a risk he might pay for with her exertion later. Jaime was certain he was driving Brienne wild.
Employing a stealth one perfected only in the throws of battle, Jaime kneeled on the mattress beside her and crawled up the length of Brienne's body, following her angles and curves with his mouth. He licked the salty elegance of each leg, tracing her shinbones and kneecaps with his greedy tongue. He suck the flesh of her thighs, and made her quiver with his teeth upon her hips. Jaime lifted his head to delight in Brienne's urgent waiting stare. She could not take her eyes from him.
Jaime was enraptured by Brienne's eyes as she watched his slow and steady progress. He reached and ran his hand down her thigh to her knee. Softly he bent her legs upward, spreading them apart slightly to afford him a prized view of the delicate secret that lay between. Jaime smiledat the treasure he had uncovered. Savoringly be bent deeper and imbibed the intoxicating sweet wetness he found waiting for him there.
Brienne's breath caught in her throat, a casualty of her pleasure. What was left in her lungs seeped through her parted lips in a heady moan, as she felt his mouth upon the nerves that inflicted so much glorious desire. It was a soft song she sang to him, and Jaime took it as a great victory. His triumph spurred him onward, swelling his cock and driving him deeper toward Brienne's most delicate places.
With a gulp of air, Jaime set upon his mission. Brienne opened her legs even wider and welcomed his probing tongue. His fervor was insatiable, his attention to detail meticulous. He worked every inch of her like an artist, and she sang his praises with each thrust of his mouth, each nibble, and caress. Jaime thrilled at the feel of Brienne's fingers in his hair, pressing his face even closer to her. He willingly obliged, forcing his tongue into her, devouring the sweet sugar she held within. Brienne tensed against the strength of her orgasm. Her impassioned cry echoed off the chamber walls. The glorious flow of release which he was coaxing from her could wait not longer.
"Jaime." Brienne called. "I'm going to…" she warned.
"Yes!" His muffled answer replied. The sound of his voice was all she needed. Louder she cried, and her wetness flowed over Jaime's lips. He lapped at it like a man dying of thirst, and raised himself up to view the results of his handiwork, his beard and mouth still glistening from her. Brienne could only stare, her breasts heaving from the exertion. It was all the invitation he needed.
Wiping his face on the back of his stumped arm, Jaime continued. He lifted himself along the length of Brienne's torso like a lion on the prowl. He gloated victoriously as he nestled his cheek against the curve of Brienne's belly. The soft caress of her hand along the other side of his face gave Jaime the warmest feeling of comfort and acceptance, a bond like none he had experienced in his life. He pressed his ear against her soft pink flesh, and listened to the heartbeat of his child mingle with that of his wife. It was the sweetest harmony he had ever heard. Jaime wondered at the exact moment his seed had planted within Brienne's womb. Surely it had been their first moment together. Jaime counted the accomplishment as one of his greatest triumphs. He had gotten a child on Brienne of Tarth, surely an act for only the bravest and strongest of men.
Leaving their babe well protected, Jaime moved upward lingering over Brienne's breasts. She was not largely endowed in that feature. Even the fullness caused by her pregnancy had not made her as ample as many other women who were not bearing a child. Small chested though she my have been, Jaime often found his mind wondering to the perfection of Brienne's chest. He had already spent many a lustful moment exploring the rounded hills and vales of her anatomy with his lips, his hands, and other more reactive parts of his body. This night he filled his mouth with her softness, and teased her with his teeth on her pert attentive nipples. No time wiled away there was ever enough.
Through her skin, Jaime could feel Brienne's aching for him. Her body rose with the shallow bursts of her breath. The high pitched gasps that burst from her throat sang to him, calling Jaime like a siren. Brienne's desire fueled his own longing. He climbed higher and found her waiting lips. The sweetness of her passionate kiss was the treasured reward for his conquest.
Forcefully, Jaime feasted upon the sweetness of Brienne's mouth. She accepted his greedy hunger, and parted her lips further. Her body pressed against his as she inhaled his breath and clung desperately to his flexing muscles. A low lustful growl purred in Jaime's throat. Brienne answered him with a soft sensual sigh. He devoured her, and ached for more.
Breathless, Jaime lowered himself to the mattress beside Brienne, thoroughly enjoying her reaction to his endeavors. For a moment, lost in his astonishment of her, Jaime beheld her with such adoration it nearly brought tears to his eyes. He could scarce believe that each night for the rest of his life would be spent by her side. Tenderly, he reached and stroked her hair, brushing back a strand that had fallen across the bridge of Brienne's nose and obscured the deep depths of her gaze. Jaime was intoxicated by her, and the dreamy smile upon his face looked much like a man who had already imbibed too much.
Brienne stared happily back at him, luxuriating in the blissful peace he gave her. "You're going to spoil me." She predicted.
Jaime's eyes flashed with mischief. "I hope so." He grinned, leaning in for one more spirited kiss.
Without a word, Jaime sprang to his knees. Maneuvering himself backward, he stopped at Brienne's hips. Lithely, he lifted her long shapely legs and dipped between them, careful not to stretch her muscles too quickly and ever mindful of her expanding belly. Kneeling again at the wonderland between her thighs, Jaime wrapped Brienne's legs around his neck and over his shoulders. What a sweet death being crushed by them would have given him. However, this night he chose life, and the sheer exhilaration that was making love to her. With a lascivious grin he clutched one of Brienne's hips with his left hand, braced the opposite thigh with his stump, and fit himself into her, entering the warm wet sheath that was his shelter. His hard swollen cock pulsed against her soft tight clench. Jaime laid his head back and moaned in ecstasy. Brienne's back arched with a gasp that begged for more. Gently he rocked into her, his eyes asking if she were alright. With a sultry nod, and a slight lifting of her hips Brienne beckoned him inward. Jaime complied eagerly, his thrusts growing harder and deeper. Brienne twisted the sheets, her passionate cries swirling around them like their own proud banner.
Jaime prayed at Brienne's alter like a man saved from the torments of the Seven Hells themselves. She was the miracle that had saved him. Their heavy stares met, holding each other transfixed with fascination. He loved to watch her when he fucked her. No, fucking was something you did to a whore. He had fucked Cersei many times, yet never like this, never with the feeling this gave to him. With Brienne there was so much more. This was love, real and pure and true. The joining of two hearts, two bodies, and two souls. At last he knew what it meant. Brienne was all he ever wanted, all he needed. She was everything to him. He would love her until the very ceiling of Heaven crumbled down around him.
A frantically chaotic yet delightfully pleasures scream signaled to Jaime that Brienne was close. She had withstood all of his delving that she could bear and soon she would reach her highest pleasure. Wishing nothing more than to hold on with her there for eternity, it was no use. Jaime too, felt the urgent sensation that he could not forestall much longer. Frenzied, Jaime reach out for Brienne, she stretched her arm and grasped his hand as if her life depended upon it. Their voices met in the sweet notes of a familiar private chorus. Drunk on each other, their smiles writhed in an intense and wonderful pain. Burning in the fire of their own light, Brienne and Jaime arrived together at the peak of their fervency.
Drained and exhausted, Jaime fell to the bed beside Brienne. The depleted gasps that attempted to feed their racing hearts echoed through the warm fire-lit chamber. Brienne's abdomen rose and fell with each rushing breath. Concerned and anxious, Jaime pulled the fur over them and cradled her in his arms.
"Are you alright, My Love?" He questioned uneasy.
Brienne stretched and purred in satisfaction. "I have never been better." She smiled whimsically and relaxed, running her palms lovingly over his arms beneath the cover.
Relieved, Jaime pulled Brienne to him, nestling her rounded frame against his own body to support her weary muscles. She sighed appreciatively, and burrowed deeper into his warmth. Jaime kissed Brienne's temple and rested his head beside hers on the pillow. They lay in silence for a long moment, overcome by the day and what they shared. Then Jaime spoke softly to her.
"Would you like to know something, My Wife?" He teased.
Brienne chuckled lowly, already drifting toward slumber. "What is it, My Husband?" She cooed.
"I am beginning to like The North." Jaime admitted with a soft laugh of his own.