The days traveling next to Brienne felt like an actual honeymoon, but that didn't come as a surprise. Every day with her felt like a dream trip to Jaime, and he didn't mind if they were headed for Casterly Rock or for the moon because he was enjoying the journey immensely.

They both loved the outdoors, riding, breathing the fresh air, feeling the winter sun on their skin, the sparring matches every time they set up camp, their talks about everything, engaging Tyrion in the conversations at meals (which were the moments the three of them gathered together), the banter and the laughter, and every night, the furtive sex in the relative privacy of their tent. They'd learned to be as quiet as possible, which was difficult as Jaime and Brienne were very passionate and used to being loud in their lovemaking. Jaime in truth didn't care if the others heard them; he'd never had a very pronounced sense of modesty. But Brienne did, though as the days went by, she started to relax and detach herself from their surroundings and the men crowding around the camp whenever she and Jaime made love. They were a newly married couple after all and in their right to make some noise when sharing certain pleasures on their bedrolls. Jaime smirked to himself, rejoicing the fact that he was rubbing off a bit of his own mischief on his wife.

In short, life couldn't be more fulfilling. He didn't miss the luxuries or comforts of the over-the-top lifestyle at the Rock. He might spend the rest of his life like that, with Brienne on the road. She was the only woman he'd met that shared his penchant for living with simplicity and for needing little. But of course, that ideal state of things was just temporary and would end soon, the moment Casterly Rock took shape in the distance.

The intimacy between them grew to levels he wouldn't have ever deemed possible with any woman, or with anyone apart from Tyrion. Not even with Cersei had he ever reached that deep degree of mutual understanding. She hadn't been interested in his thoughts or opinions, in his dreams or expectations. She just assumed and took for granted that he wished the same things that she did, that he thought her same thoughts and felt her same feelings. She despised the real him and built a false image in her head which she was set on imposing on him. For years, he'd accepted all her delusions and made the effort to try to adjust to her illusory views of him. But all that insanity was unsustainable, of course, and whenever he rebelled against his delusional sister, she hurt him badly with her contempt, indifference and cruelty, giving him the cold shoulder until he returned to her with his tail between his legs. It was him who licked her boots and asked for her forgiveness every single time. Everything revolved around her.

Now he saw all those past humiliations as clearly as daylight.

With Brienne, he'd discovered for the first time how it was to have a woman who loved him, not an inexistent Jaime. She never mocked him, never laughed at him, never accused him of being stupid like Cersei did so often. She listened eagerly whenever he revealed bits of himself, shared memories or put into words his hopes and dreams. And to think that in the past he'd sunk so low as to make himself believe that Cersei was his only dream, his only hope and expectation. Thank the gods that he'd opened his eyes to such an abysmal mistake.

Aware that their lives would become more complicated once they arrived at Casterly Rock, Jaime was determined to make the most of their easy days on the roads.

An actual honeymoon wouldn't have turned out to be so amazing.

Seventeen days of glorious travel passed. Tyrion didn't agree so much with Jaime's and Brienne's enthusiasm, mostly because he hadn't been able to visit a single brothel and he'd complained about his brother and sister-in-law rubbing in his nose their vigorous and frequent sexual activities, of which he'd been an unwilling earwitness each time and, on one occasion, even an eyewitness by accident.

But in the end, the looming silhouette of the colossal and oppressive castle came into view, and Jaime's high spirits deflated instantly. Riding by his side, Brienne seemed to feel the exact same way, and they instinctively searched for each other's hands for mutual support. He smiled at her as encouragingly as he could, figuring how fearsome and overwhelming her new home must look to her.

"No matter how many times I've heard stories of your ancestral castle. Not even in my wildest imagination could I have conceived something so huge," she confessed, and she certainly looked overcome and dismayed, though she was trying to put a brave front.

He snorted, trying to lighten the mood. "It seems that the Casterlys and my ancestors had some kind of inferiority complex, and they probably built this monstrosity to make up for some shortage."

He succeeded in distracting her, to his relief. She giggled at his pun. "No way," she said between chuckles.

"Fortunately, I don't have any shortages to make up for as far as I know," he added to needle her, watching her from the corner of his eye and relishing beforehand her upcoming reaction.

"Oh, of course you don't, do you? Certainly it's not your ego what suffers from a shortage," Brienne retorted, to his delight. He loved when she tried to take him down a few notches, and that was why he was always bragging in front of her, just for the pleasure of hearing her throw humbling retorts at him.

Jaime waved a dismissive hand. "I was thinking specifically of something more anatomical." Oh, the innuendo aimed at her was so much fun. She invariably blushed and her cheeks were so sweet when they reddened.

She huffed, rolling her eyes. "Your head, of course. It's the biggest part of your anatomy. Almost as big as that castle over there." She looked very proud of her own quick wit, the minx.

He shot her his naughtiest glance. "Your cries whenever I shove my cock into you tell a different story. Oh, yes, seven hells, you fill me to the brim! Stuff me with your gigantic..."

"Hey, I've never referred to it as gigantic!," she cut off in outrage. "Now who does have an inferiority complex? You're making up things I don't say."

"But you think them, I'm absolutely sure. You're just too proud to admit it. But I see through all your fuss, wench. Should I start worrying about your obsession with my size?," he teased relentlessly as their horses advanced slowly but inexorably.

"You're the only one obsessed with your size, I assure you," she replied, glancing at the skyes, as if asking the gods for extra patience.

"Stubborn wenches make my size grow even more with their doggedness, so you are only adding fuel to the flames and that won't help with our predicament regarding my measurements. And by the seven, so much talk about size is making my cock react enthusiastically in order to measure up to your insatiable standards."

For answer, she punched his arm for good measure, and he whined exaggeratedly and rubbed pointedly the area hit by her strong fist, grinning from ear to ear. But it was true that he had a big problem down there. Shit, he was so aroused again that his breeches might explode. His wench made him horny from dawn to dusk and even during his sleeping hours, so his poor cock had little rest.

The good thing about all his silly teasing was that his strategy to distract her had definitely worked. She was fighting to hide her own grin by the time they reached the first gate.

Anything to make her feel less intimidated. If he kept her focused on his size, she wouldn't focus so much on the castle's.

His uncle Kevan, his family and the castle staff were all awaiting their arrival at the vast main courtyard. The newcomers got off their horses and Tyrion opened the door of his carriage. As the stable boys took care of the mounts, Jaime took Brienne's hand and gave her a reassuring smile, not caring that the entirety of the occupants of the building were watching all their movements and gestures.

"Welcome home, my lord, my lady. Nephew," Kevan greeted solemnly the three of them, and Jaime had to suppress his impulse to roll his eyes. His uncle was so much Tywin's shadow that it looked almost weird.

"Thank you, uncle. This is my wife, Lady Brienne. Love, this is my uncle Kevan, his wife Dorna and their son Lancel," Jaime introduced succintly and simply, making clear that he wouldn't deprive himself from calling his wife by all the tender names he fancied in front of everyone for the sake of an absurd sense of propriety.

Kevan and his family bowed or curtsied to Brienne. "My lady, we're glad to have you here," he added. By the stern look in his eyes and the eerie silence of the whole group, no one would say that they were that glad to welcome their new lady. But once more Jaime didn't care one shit what they thought. Brienne was their lady now and they'd better start showing the respect due to her.

"I'm glad of being at my new home too," she replied with a shy smile, and Jaime squeezed her hand.

Kevan didn't smile, but that coolness didn't surprise Jaime. His uncle, like Tywin, wore permanently that sour expression of someone who had been smelling horseshit. On the other hand, Dorna at least had the decency to smile back. "You must be tired after so many days traveling. Everything is ready to offer you proper nourishment and rest," Kevan recited, and pointed at the castle with his hand.

Tyrion, how not, chose that moment to break the tension. Or to add to it, depending on the perspective. "Uncle! You must have missed me so much. Such a long time with no one to scold apart from your son, it must have been boring. And aunt, you look lovelier than ever. Cousin Lancel, you've grown a few inches, soon I'll have to look up when I talk to you," he greeted without respite, and ruffled the child's hair. Lancel was a delicate thing and skittish like a mouse.

Again, the only one who showed some warmth was Dorna, whereas Kevan was rivaling with the coldness of the Wall and Lancel was seemingly contemplating hiding behind his mother's skirts. Jaime almost let out a chuckle at the sight.

It's so good to be home again, he thought sarcastically. "My wife and I will head for our chambers to take rest before dinner," he announced, and a couple of servants stepped forward to guide them to their assigned quarters.

Luckily, after the introductions, Jaime and Brienne were left to their own devices with the maidservants, and he didn't let go of his wife's hand as they entered the building and walked through the labyrinthine corridors. Tyrion on his part scurried away, probably to his own chambers.

"The next time we fancy a journey, we might just traverse all Casterly Rock. This place has many more miles to go than all the way we've gone through from Tarth," he quipped.

Brienne giggled again, and his heart jumped along with his relentless cock.