Author's Notes: Good day, everyone! Welcome back to another chapter of TDR. Thank you so much for your support! I always appreciate hearing from you.
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Chapter 117
Jaime XXXVIII
Jaime strode purposefully down the hallway. He could hardly keep himself from glaring while in Riverrun, but there was a certain satisfaction underlying his mood. It seems, in apology for the hardship that Jaime suffered over the abandonment of his son by his sister, Ser Edmure Tully had granted him and Brienne the largest guest room. He hadn't truly been able to appreciate it the first day when he was suffering his seizure but had made great use of it otherwise.
It wasn't clear to him whether Brienne had fully forgiven him or not, but she had given him comfort. She was the type where her actions spoke louder than words. He'd known it was risky, telling her the story of his past, but he'd so desperately wanted that history between them that he thought it worth trying. It still wasn't the same. There was no bond over their shared experiences, but at least she knew of herself. Of her courage and her loyalty. She deserved to know what she could become: a true knight. A truer knight than he ever was.
He had hoped he could breeze by his sins, but she saw through them. Once more he felt the creeping shame of his past actions that he tried to put behind him. Was it even possible to leave it at all? Now that Brienne knew, it was time to stop dwelling in the past. The only threat that their past could help them with now was the Long Night, and preparations were well underway. Everything that he had ever hoped for with the start of the new life had largely come to pass.
Now that he and Brienne were at an understanding, he vowed to only look toward the future. However, the wait was interminable.
It had been a week and Lord Hoster Tully had still not passed. Jaime's efforts to push Lord Stark north were largely futile. Ned refused to budge until his wife had closure by way of her father's death. Jaime had scowled. It was by mere luck that she was there in the first place. Any other wife would have to suffer the news by raven and Lady Catelyn had already been there for months. Winterfell was still roughly six weeks away. A week or more would hardly make a difference, so he conceded. The lone silver lining was the uncomfortable look Lady Catelyn got when he declared that should they wish to continue the discussion, they would find him in his room.
Jaime smirked. He hadn't quite fulfilled his promise to make Brienne moan loud enough for Lady Catelyn to hear from her room. Although Brienne had loosened her attitude around love-making, it still embarrassed her to her core that others might hear and have an inkling of the sins they commit twixt the sheets. Though they had never made love in the time before, Jaime had his suspicions that the old Brienne would have been just as shy.
He was silent as he opened the door and peaked in. He saw the back of her head sticking out of the tub. Her hair was slicked back from the water and he heard her sigh in relaxation as she washed away the grit from training. It had taken her only a few days to prove her superiority over the guards at Riverrun. Jaime sparred with her often to work out his anxiety over the interminable wait for Lord Tully to finally die, but training partners were now in short supply. The guards in Riverrun did not like being shown up by a woman and Ser Loras otherwise avoided her.
He removed his boots quietly and closed the door behind him with nary a sound. He tip-toed over to the tub. Brienne was already busy soaping up and scrubbing her hair clean, which covered any noise he made. He deliberately let out a large exhale before leaning in to plant kisses, starting from her ear and going down her neck.
Brienne sighed in exasperation. "Again?"
"What do you mean 'again?'" Jaime replied in teasing. "I went without for two whole months."
"Such a hardship. I'm sure the Gods will honor you for your sacrifice," Brienne said, but she opened her neck to further kisses. "No marks above the collar. Remember?"
"I remember," Jaime growled as he nipped playfully at her collarbone. She hissed at the light sensation which only made him smile against her skin. He moved around the side of the tub and kissed her fully, immediately deepening it. Brienne for her part flung her wet arms around him and he shivered as it soaked through his doublet.
"I think you've had enough time in the bath."
"I only just got in," Brienne replied.
"Well then, the water should still be ample clean when you return to it," he grinned at her as he openly looked her up and down. He could already feel himself stirring as he traced the trails of water that followed the lines of her body to the ground. So much of their lovemaking had happened by the soft light of candles, so he savored the full, midday sun bathing revealing curves of her supple skin. As if in a daze, he picked up her towel and began drying her off.
She made to wrap herself up in the towel but he pulled away from her.
"Jaime," Brienne sighed with exasperation.
"I will not let you hide. This is as you were meant to be," he replied, gazing lovingly at her.
She frowned down at her body, standing awkwardly. "I know it's hardly—"
"Hardly dull. I could hardly expect any other woman to crush me with her might," Jaime said, reaching for her hand and dragging her back to the bed.
Instead of pushing her onto it and laying across, he laid back himself and pulled her up to be atop him. He groaned loudly and leaned back onto the bed as he felt her settle onto his lap.
"Can we … do it like this?" Brienne asked.
"Absolutely," Jaime said in a husky voice. He opened his eyes and smiled up at her, enjoying the way she towered over him from his viewpoint. Suddenly, he felt his heart jump and fear rushed into his veins. He clutched at the sheets and tried to get control of his breathing.
Brienne frowned down at him. "Are you well?"
"Yuh-yes, keep going," he replied, forcing his lips into what he hoped was a smile.
Jaime sat up and focused his attention on getting off his doublet, while Brienne attacked the strings to his trousers. In a matter of moments, he was tossing both items to the side and was now as naked as she was. She bent down to take his cock in her mouth, but the brief look she gave him sent him into panic and he reached for her.
"You don't need to sully yourself by doing that," he replied, gasping for breath, and reaching to pull her closer.
"Are … you sure? You've done the same for me."
Jaime grimaced. "That's a tad different."
She wrinkled her nose at the phrasing and he laughed. At his direction, she fondled him as she normally had. Slowly, he felt the fear fade away and the pleasure crept back. He fell back onto the bed and moaned to show his appreciation.
Brienne readjusted her position so that she was leaning over him and doing her own ministrations, first delving into his mouth before taking the time to kiss and nip around his face. She had learned previously that massaging the pulse point on his neck was particularly pleasurable and focused on that. Jaime thought about reminding her about leaving bruises but decided against it. He would wear them with pride in front of the Starks.
It took very little for his cock to stand at attention; he motioned to Brienne he was ready. Her efforts were a tad clumsy at first, but soon she was riding him hard. He was transfixed by the concentration on her face and the way her breasts moved as she went up and down. He grabbed her hips to keep her steady and joined in their movement.
After a few minutes, he groaned loudly as he spilled into her. She rode him through his release but then rolled off of him.
He frowned. "You didn't cum?"
"Must I?"
"I refuse to slack on your pleasure."
"Jaime, you kept me up in the late hours of the night to give me that pleasure. I'm sated," she insisted.
He narrowed his eyes. "Are you sure?"
She stared into his eyes. "Would I lie?"
"The Maiden knows you're terrible at it," he said wryly.
She pummeled him with a pillow. "I suppose that's answer enough then."
"Wouldn't you consider that a virtue?" Jaime asked, raising an eyebrow.
"I would. But you mock me," Brienne said, although he could hear the smile in her voice. Then she rolled off the bed onto her feet again and climbed once more into the tub.
Jaime huffed. "I like it when you stay in bed for a little longer."
"It's the middle of the day! I dare not tarry," she insisted, dunking her head to wash her hair.
"But we're not doing anything. We're forced to wait on the Stranger to take old Lord Hoster."
Brienne sighed. "Jaime, I know you care little for the Tullys or decorum, but I beg you, do not insult Lord Tully at the funeral."
He snorted. "Even if I did, no one would blame you. You do not control me."
"Jaime," she said in a stern voice.
"I am the son of a lord paramount. I was taught better than that," Jaime shot back hotly. "We're Lannisters. Superior in every way, especially in manners—unless the occasion calls for it."
She stopped in the middle of washing to absorb his every word. Her expression was mulish, but she chose not to respond and went back to scrubbing her hair.
"Didn't you say you wanted to make rounds among the soldiers?" she asked, then soaked her hair to wash the soap from it.
"There's still time enough in the day for that," he replied.
Brienne regarded him with a frown as she pulled herself out of the tub and finally said, "Don't take too long."
He watched her dress in silence; when the door closed with a snap, he slumped back into bed. He allowed himself to lie there for a moment. He rolled out of bed with great difficulty and summoned a tub of clean water for himself, putting his trousers back on just long enough to oversee the servants filling the tub.
Jaime sighed as he sank into it, but he was anything but cheered by the warmth of the water. After their fucking, he did not feel the usual warm glow of satisfaction. There was a knot in his stomach and his skin felt clammy despite their warm and comfortable quarters. He rubbed at his eyes in the hopes that it would scrub the brief vision he'd had of Cersei getting ready to take his cock into her mouth. It had nearly softened and it had taken his every effort to not show his fear to Brienne.
Six months dead and she continues to haunt me, he thought, sticking his head under the water and scrubbing vigorously. Would there ever be a time when she was completely banished from his thoughts?
He put it out of his mind and washed up. He had a duty to his men. More importantly, though, he had an obligation to Pod. His training had long fallen by the wayside even before the coup. Then Jaime's duties to the king had carried him away until they were stuck riding on horseback for weeks at a time. Now that they were confined to Riverrun for the time being, it was a perfect opportunity to revisit the boy's training and get him back on track. He pulled on his armor for the occasion.
|-The Dragon's Roar-|
It had taken Lord Hoster Tully another two days to die. They had stayed another day to conduct the funeral, during which Jaime had struggled to contain his laughter as the new Lord Edmure Tully failed to land a fire arrow in his own father's burial ship. Naturally, the Blackfish had stepped up and got it in his first attempt. It seemed Lord Edmure was as clumsy with the bow and arrow as he was with his courtesies.
Jaime was careful to keep his expression tailored and his voice neutral. No matter his disregard for the Tullys or the Starks, it would have been the height of rudeness to mock them at that time.
A distant memory of his father lecturing him about manners and courtesies rose to the forefront of his mind and he gave a shake to dislodge it. He would not deny the old lion had some valuable lessons regarding conduct, but the pain of his treason was still too near.
Jaime stepped up to Moat Cailin and glowered. It was a worse ruin than he remembered. He was careful exploring it, but even a brief glance at the ground floor rooms showed holes and crumbling doorways. Vines from the swamp had crept over the walls, holding some of the rotten furniture in place. There was a powerful smell of sea salt, earthiness, and decay. Even as he was standing there, he thought he heard the crumbling of rock.
He made an about-face. Lord Stark, Lady Catelyn, Robb Stark, and his wife, Lady Margaery, were standing just outside the ruins. Only Margaery seemed to be looking upon the castle with any kind of optimism. Brienne, Pod, and Ser Addam were next to them. While Brienne seemed curious, the rest were indifferent. Some of the other Northern lords had also come by, but it was Lord Tallhart and his two sons standing at the entrance. The sons did not seem particularly thrilled, but Lord Tallhart swelled with pride.
Jaime stepped up to him. "Congratulations, Lord Tallhart. Once she's patched up, she'll make a fine castle," he said and was pleased that his voice remained a calm blue.
"Thank you, Lord Lannister," Lord Leobald replied. His voice was a light tan mixed with a tinge of exciting green. He was careful to control his demeanor, something Jaime thought the Starks could stand to cultivate. Though he had a feeling that Margaery would whip up her future children in the same fashion as Lady Olenna. That would be an amusing sight to see.
"I will be leaving Captain Boras and five hundred of my men in service to restore Moat Cailin. Upon my return to the south, I am apt to leave Ser Addam and his soldiers. I've already sent for a stonemason to oversee the repairs," Jaime said, as he marched out of the crumbling structure with Lord Tallhart trailing behind him.
"I thank you for your generosity, Lord Lannister, but it is hardly necessary …."
"It's not a request; it's an order," Jaime replied sharply. "We do not have the luxury of time on our side. The Long Night may be as few as four to eight years out. Moat Cailin must be ready to stand in that time. You and your family will stay here and oversee it in lieu of going to Winterfell."
Lord Tallhart sighed and Jaime saw the burnt orange of frustration. "As you command, Lord Lannister."
The Northern lords nearby shifted and muttered in annoyance, their voices too quiet to get a reading but Jaime could be certain they weren't pleased.
"Do you have any objections, Lord Stark?" Jaime called out to him.
"Of course not. I understand the urgency. I thank you for your loyalty and the offer of your men, Lord Leobald, but there will be more than enough to root out Roose Bolton from Winterfell. Your place is here," Lord Stark said to the Tallharts in a gentler blue tone.
"As you say, Lord Stark. Pluck Roose Bolton out of Winterfell like the leech he is," Lord Tallhart said.
A chuckle went through the lords, but neither Jaime nor Lord Stark smiled. Jaime couldn't keep from grinding his teeth together as he thought about routing Roose out of Winterfell. It was nearly half a year overdue and his fingers itched to deliver the killing blow.
"Lord Tallhart, Lord Stark, I would have you join me for dinner so that we can discuss the plans for Moat Cailin," he said, his voice wavering only slightly from its calm blue to a muddied color that he'd characterize as disgust.
"Yes, that sounds reasonable, Lord Lannister," Lord Stark replied. His own tone had heightened in formality after the public row at Riverrun. He clearly still stood by his lady-wife, whom Jaime couldn't keep himself from sending a glare at as he passed. He rather doubted there was anything that could smooth the tension between the Starks and the Lannisters, and Jaime was not about to be the first to budge on that front.
He gave Brienne a smirk as he joined her, Pod, and Addam and they started walking back toward the Lannister portion of the camp. Despite it being only midday, they broke for the night to better address Moat Cailin. They were at least going to be back to marching in the morning instead of having to wait for an indeterminate amount of time.
Jaime couldn't keep himself from glancing toward Brienne out of the corner of his eye, feeling his heart twinge. Their fight was behind them, but he was still feeling the ripple effects. While Brienne had been happy to engage in lovemaking, he still felt a certain distance from her. He couldn't decide if it was her being distant from him or if he was disappointed she didn't change into the Brienne of old.
It was a foolhardy thought. He knew very well that this Brienne could not be the Brienne he'd first fallen in love with. Their shared experience and then her venture into the wilds of Westeros had fundamentally shaped her into the warrior he had come to have so much respect for. This Brienne was still an excellent warrior, but she was as fresh as spring grass. Apart from inappropriate words from other men, her life had been far lighter on hardship.
All she needs is the opportunity, Jaime thought, shaking his head in mild disgust at himself. He shouldn't want her to suffer just so he could feel a bit closer to her, but as she was anticipating fighting in the Long Night, it seemed inevitable.
"How long do you expect me to stay in Moat Cailin?" Addam asked with no small amount of exasperation.
"Not more than six months, I hope. The repairs won't be completed, but I would hope that plenty of headway will be made," Jaime responded, running a hand through his hair.
"Seems reasonable," Addam replied, but there was something in the wavering uncertainty of the purple in his voice that caught Jaime's attention.
"You do not seem as enthused about the North as I," Jaime said, amusement creeping into his voice.
"You're not the only one who wishes to get their affairs in order," Addam responded, his voice dark purple in disgruntlement.
Jaime stopped and turned to him, a knowing smile on his face and raised his eyebrows at his friend.
At first, Addam was stalwart, but then his face cracked and he sighed. "Your father was hardly the only one concerned with marriage. I am to wed Lady Elyana Sarwyck upon my return."
Jaime snorted and began again on his path. "I suppose congratulations are in order."
"Perhaps," Addam replied. "I know nothing of her."
"If my memory isn't failing me, my father once spoke in disdainful tones about the Sarwycks. He didn't like their savvy. Knowing my father, they were merely trying to make use of their lands. Lord Sarwyck has a son as well?"
"Had. Lord Sarwyck passed nearly two years hence. Apparently, he and my father ironed out this betrothal just before he died. My father was reluctant to keep me abreast of the proposal until it was done and dusted, likely to head off my protestations," Addam grumbled.
"It shouldn't be all bad," Jaime replied.
"Lady Brienne, you've been married now three months. Is there anything you wish had been smoother?" Addam glanced back at her.
Brienne opened her mouth, but nothing came out and she closed it again. She was quiet for some time, but every time Jaime glanced at her he could see her mulling the question over like it was a new kind of food.
"Be truthful to her," Brienne finally said, causing Jaime to wince. "As this is arranged, she had no more choice than you, so be considerate. Your marriage does not have to be one of displeasure or hate."
Addam looked thoughtful and nodded. "I'll see what I can do. She's not a fighter like you."
Jaime clicked his tongue, "Such a shame. Are we invited to the wedding?"
"The lord paramount attend a retainer's wedding?" Addam barked a laugh. "Your father would have never and I would think you'd hate it."
"I know my duty," Jaime snapped. "You've been my friend since we were but boys. You attended my wedding, I insist that I will attend yours."
"I'll make it known to my father. Pray you find yourself busy. He would not resist the temptation to have your personal ear."
"I've swatted enough flies in my time," Jaime said. The color of his own voice, though green with mirth, wavered to an ashamed yellow; his good spirits faded. Brienne's advice sounded like an indictment of their marriage. Though they might appear strong to others as Jaime rarely went anywhere without her, the foundations of their relationship were still faulty. As much as he wanted to mend the cracks, he wasn't entirely sure how.
Perhaps it would be enough to show his trust in and deference to her.
"We have some time yet before dinner," Jaime said, as they finally reached the outskirts of their camp. "Pod, let's get to work."
"Yes, m'lord," Pod said, unable to hide the green excitement in his voice.
