Chapter Text
Casterly had come to life for the wedding. Looking at his home, Jaime could imagine the grandeur of it in it's heyday. The bride had been insistent in her demands. She had wanted a wedding to rival those fairy tales she loved as a child.
For his part, Tyrion looked contrite. Finally, something that his quick witted brother could find no words for.
“It’ll be fine.” Jaime reassured the smaller man as they toured the damages. Bannisters had been replaced and polished to a shine. Carpets hauled out and replaced with newly commissioned pieces. Tapestries were cleaned, mended and hung on freshly scrubbed walls.
“This is what father had wanted all along.” Tyrion sighed into his glass of port. Jaime knew his brother wasn't mourning their father. Tywin Lannister’s death had been sudden but there had never been any love lost between the father and son.
“It’s nothing, little brother. The place could use a little lifting. Father had the right of it.”
“That’s about all he had the right of.” Tyrion said.
Jaime nodded. What else could he say? “Well, the place is yours, you can do with it as you like now.” Tyrion nodded, but the concern still crawled over his features.
They had made it to the main courtyard where servants with strange accents continued to busy about. Jaime hardly recognized the place, especially with all the new faces wreaking havoc on his childhood home. It wouldn't be his, but he knew Tyrion would continue their father’s drive to make the castle and their name as great as it once had been. Tyrion, however, would be far more reputable and compassionate in his command of House Lannister.
“So, when does the Lady arrive?” Tyrion asked his brother.
“What lady?” Jaime asked with a grin. Every time he thought of her, Jaime found the corners of his mouth fighting for sanity.
“There’s that look. I’ve seen it enough times to know you know damn well what lady I am referring to.”
“She’ll be here. She’s coming from quite a distance, you know.”
Tyrion nodded. “The wedding is in two weeks. Will she make it in time?” He asked.
Jaime sighed. “It’s not her nature to not honor her promises, Tyrion. She’ll be here. She’s the entire reason for this thing.”
Tyrion smirked. “Well, not entirely.”
____________________________________
She did show up on time, just as jaime knew she would. The tall wench came riding through the gates with her retinue. Including her father and the five knights who had served as his babysitters. She smiled when she saw him, a brilliant affectation that made her eyes more beautiful. Jaime held her horse’s leads as she dismounted. “I knew you would make it on time.” He said.
“Who doubted I would?” Brienne said. Jaime tilted his head in the direction of his younger brother. “Of course he would. I probably ruined some side bet he had going on.”
“Well, it is an important day.” Tyrion shrugged. “It's not everyday that one marries. Actually, it should only be once in a lifetime.”
Brienne’s eyes met Jaime’s. The two shared identical grins. “For the gods’ sakes. You two.” He shook his head.
Brienne turned to the younger man. “Keep it up, little man, and I will put a spear through you and serve you at the feast.”
Jaime smiled at her fierceness, yet knew, when it came to Tyrion, her claws weren’t sharp. “Be, kind, My Lady, Wench. Tyrion is but a mass of nerves at the coming nuptials.” He watched the smile war against ehr features. “There’s that smile.” He said, his fingers tracing their path over her lips.
“I think I shall need more wine.” Tyrion muttered his excuses and promised to check on the progress of the preparations.
They’d spent the past two years in a nether. Neither straying far from the other in that time. Jaime had followed her back to Tarth, after she had spent two moons with him at Casterly. On Tarth, Jaime had begun to learn what it was to be a Stormalander, to learn the importance of leading as a man of honor, rather than one who instills fear into the masses. Jaime was on Tarth when news of Tywin’s death came in the form of a raven from Lannisport. It was Brienne who held his hand through the long journey. He raged about words enver said, love never acknowledged and not being able to stand vigil for his father.
Brienne had been his rock, when the madness of the world had took hold of him. Cersei had not come from the North. She was expecting her first child and could not make the long journey. Tyrion had stood vigil, for seven days. He had made all the arrangements and entertained the well wishers. By the time Jaime had made it back to the Rock, there were few remnants of the funeral, and Tywin Lannister had been laid to his eternal rest.
Then, they had spent nearly half a year at Winterfell, where everything changed.
Brienne’s tug at his sleeve brought him back to the present. “You all right?” The question swirling in her blue eyes. “You look as if you went away for a while.”
“No more of that.” he said with a smile, his hand finding hers again. “We have a wedding to attend.”
“That, we do.” Brienne agreed.
_______________________
The day of the wedding dawned beautiful. Brienne awoke in her borrowed rooms. She had spent the night with the ladies, feeling as misplaced as she would have those back home. She looked upon her gown for the ceremony and wondered, not for the first time, how she had been suckered into all of this.
Truly, she had been the one to orchestrate most of it. Had placed the groom into the exact spot needed, had made sure the groom wouldn’t escape. Brienne smiled at that, the Lannister men and their love for running.
A knock at her door broke her reverie. Tyrion entered her rooms slyly. “My Lady.” he bowed.
Brienne smiled as he made his way to her breakfast and made himself comfortable. He poured wine t=for the two of them and bade her to join. “What are you doing here, Lord Tyrion. Should you not be preparing for the day?”
“This day, would not exist without you, Lady Brienne.” He raised his glass to her and she obliged.
“I had little to do with much past introducing the two of you.” She said. “You and your stunning personality did the rest.”
Tyrion through his massive head back and laughed. “Oh, you are a Lannister.” he chortled.
“Not quite.” she returned with a grim smile.
“In time.” Tyrion added. “Jaime loves you. He just needs to know all the choices are his.” He studied her profile in the rising sun coming through the large windows.
“I know that.” she smiled. “And, as I have told you before, we agreed on that. We both want to marry when we are ready, not a moment before.”
Tyrion nodded. “He took a lot of angry ravens for it. Father was most displeased.”
Brienne stabbed at her eggs while Tyrion made off with her bacon. “It was your father that was the greatest barrier to all of this.”
“And, he is dead now.” Tyrion said.
Brienne poured them each another glass of wine. “Be that as it may, I am glad at least that you have found true love.” She gave him an honest and sweet smile as payment for redirecting the conversation.
“My Lady, I could never thank you enough for your service. You introduced me to the best part of my life. Sansa is...everything I ever dreamed.”
“Make sure you remain that for her, Tyrion.” She frowned. “No more whores, or mistresses, or whatever it was you paid them to be.”
Tyrion smiled into his glass. “I owe you a debt that..”
“This was a debt paid, Tyrion.” Her eyes softened from across the table. “I always told you you would find someone.”
“You really are a Lannister.” He said, and Brienne knew it was a sincere compliment.
“What are you doing here, Brother?” Jaime said from the door. “Shouldn’t you be off terrorizing children and curdling milk? Or, whatever it is people do before weddings.”
Tyrion grinned up at his brother. “I’ve come to break my fast with my favorite sister.” he said.
“Why are you in my Lady’s chamber?” He grinned when his eyes met Brienne’s, a gentle blush crashing over her features at his attentions. “I’ll not have you molesting my future bride on the dawn of you finally getting your own. Go, find your new brothers. I hear they are looking for a cure for last night’s imbibing. Don't suppose you know anything about that?”
“Starks,” tyrion grinned as he jumped from his seat and dusted his hands. “I’d always thought they could hold their spirits in the North.”
“People just love to praise a famous name.” Jaime shrugged. “Go, find that red head of yours. What is it they call it in the North?”
“Kissed by fire.” brienne offered. “And, that’s a Wildling phrase I believe.”
Tyrion and Jaime shared a smile between them, Brienne, had no doubt they were recalling the unfortunate ginger wildling who had set his sights on her in her time at Winterfell. “Stop it, the two of you.”
“You should have let that ginger beast steal her.” He said with a smile at the doorway.
“Be gone, short man, before `i tell your bride where I found you this morning.”
“Now, now, dear brother. Be kind to me.” His features broke into the Lannister grin. “After all, I know where all the Lannister gold is.” Tyrion bowed and swept the door closed behind him.
Brienne frowned. “What does he mean by that?” she asked.
Jaime shrugged. “Tyrion’s job here, under father’s orders, were to manage the cisterns and plumbing.”
Brienne nodded. She had known that. It was the lowest place the once patriarch could have bestowed.
“I’ve no doubt that my brother would have found the untapped veins of gold somewhere on this rock. He has always had a nose for such things.” He took his brothers glass of wine and sniffed it. “Strong spirit for the morning.”
“Hair of the dog, I would assume.” She had felt the weight of the wine on her, even though she had not touched her second glass while Tyrion had had four. “It would explain the renovations.”
“The wine?” Jaime asked
“No, you idiot. The gold. The changes around here.” Perhaps the wine had hit her in such a way, but Brienne suddenly saw things with great clarity. “Your father has passed.” She said.
Jaime jolted in his seat as if his ass had caught fire. “Yes, he has.”
“That’s not what I meant, Jaime.” She felt a blush climbing her features. “What I mean to say, is that I am certain my father would be amenable to releasing you from any betrothal that…”
Jaime leaned back into his chair. “And you? What would you be amenable to, Lady Brienne?”
She fidgeted with her empty plate and wished to be anywhere other than under Jaime’s intense glare. “I will live.”
His bark of laughter was unexpected, but angered her. “I’m glad you can laugh at this.” she said.
Jaime wiped his eyes and stuttered an attempt at words. “You’ll live. Wench, I’ve no doubt of anyone on this hideous continent would live and fight and survive, it's you.”
She ducked her head, uncertain if it was a compliment or a gentle brush aside. “I had a conversation with your father last night. While the Northmen and my brother were emptying Lannisport of its vineyards.”
Brienne leaned forward, suddenly clear headed. “You did?”
It was Jaime’s turn to fidget.. He twirled the empty wine glass in his elegant hands. “He did. He said much as the same to me, that he would release me from the arrangement if I so desired.” Jaime’s eyes turned back on hers as the silence crept around them. “Don’t you want to know what I told him?”
Brienne rose from her seat and began to arrange her things to ready for the wedding. “It's fine, Ser Jaime.” She threw as offhanded as she could. “I understand.”
The sound of the chair overturning and Jaime’s hand on her waist made her reach for the sword that wasn't at her hip. “Ser Jaime.” She hissed.
“No way, Wench. We have been through too much to let doubts and stupidity get in the way now.” He kissed her softly. It wasn’t their first kiss, nor their 100th or even 100th, but it was as sweet and wanted as that kiss in the tourney yard.
“I’ve no doubts.” she fired. “Especially when you kiss me that way.”
He kissed her again. “We should do this more often then.” he smiled.
Brienne scowled at him. “What are you saying?”
“The same thing I said to your father last night.” Smiling Jaime held her hands in his and leaned into her ear. “We need to marry, and soon. I don't know how long my honor can hold.”