Chapter Text
Does he ever shut up? Brienne thinks, as they surge onto the river bank. Her arms are sore from rowing, her skin is chafing under the ill fitting armor, and chafing even more are his invasive questions. His bold statements. How many words could he think of to replace “dour” or “pig-headed” were his previous goals, now he’s upped the ante. Never in her life has she heard someone speak so much. Not even the bards of her childhood spoke so many words in a moon’s turn. While she’s yanking him about and pushing him up the rocky ledge, he just keeps on talking. They’ve hardly just started this journey together. Jaime is determined to whittle down her patience to sawdust.
It seems it’s all he knows how to do is blabber on, like he can’t stand the thought of silence. Or peace. Or peaceful silence. Maybe it’s the only way he feels in control of the situation. Brienne then realized she has, most unfortunately, overestimated her level-headedness. She had sworn quietly to herself, aloud to him, that he would not provoke her to anger. But he just wouldn’t cease. Her sanity was at stake.
“-overpower you, fling you down, tear off your clothes… None of them were strong enough.” That arrogant smirk again. “I’m strong enough.”
“Not interested.”
“Of course you are! You’d love to know what it feels like to be a woman.”
Something in her snapped. Not out of her mind, or what have you. This particular topic made her think of Renly’s camp all over again. Of all the times she was made fun of for her muscled appearance, her giant stature, her small teats, and even her crooked teeth. Those same lechers still had the audacity to bet on her maidenhead. Well you know what? If that’s how the Kingslayer wanted to play, she was more than happy to oblige.
Jaime was climbing the ledge to get to solid ground while she hung back a few feet. Brienne placed her hands on her hips, looking up at him as he tried to scramble up the hill with his hands shackled. Really assessing him while she thought of what to say. Even under the filth ridden clothes, she could see the wiry muscle he retained. His athleticism alive and well as he vaulted himself further up. He had spent a year in imprisonment, so he was weakened. However, the same weak man had strangled Lord Karstark’s son while he was tied at the bottom of a post.
It was worth the risk.
“Well are you just going to stand there watching me as I climb or-”
“Do it then.”
He stopped, inquisitive emerald eyes peering over his shoulder. “Beg pardon?”
“Overpower me. Fling me down. Tear off my clothes.” She enunciated every word, a fiery rage lighting her up from the inside. Her brows were drawn so far down, she could feel the weight of her frown.
Sliding down back to the bank, he was a mere foot from her now. So she continued.
“You smell like shit, and your breath worse off, Gods know what your cock is covered in... But you’re pretty enough, Kingslayer. So… Do it. ”
Brienne watched as Jamie’s eyes seemed to darken with- was it anger? Disbelief? She couldn’t name it. All she knew is that for once Jamie was silent. Her eyes traveled further down to his lips, his mouth slightly agape with unspoken words. Further down, she watched his throat move with the effort of swallowing down whatever retort he may have had. The more her eyes traveled downward, the more tense he became. In the clench of his hands, to the flex of his thighs. Poised to strike, though he made no move.
She likely looked the same way, her spine ramrod straight as she imposed her height over him. The hands at her hips were firm, her fingers twitching. If he thinks he’s so capable, then let him try. I have killed rapists before. I can learn to keep them alive.
Dragging her gaze back up, she leaned in a touch closer. It was hard keeping her face in a snarl instead of puckering in disgust. Gods, he reeks. Sensing he wasn’t bound to move, much less say anything, she made to speak again. Why are his eyes nearly black? Have I mentally tortured him with the idea of me stripped? That thought would normally make a pang of hurt ring through her mind… But the silence was so satisfactory .
“I don’t see any hands sliding under my armor, so let’s move on.”
Grabbing the chains, she led the way. Up the hill, and to the road, he would remain blissfully silent for all of ten minutes until they would come across the three miserable souls strung up in the trees.
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She would cut down three wretched souls for their atrocities. Two quick deaths…
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Jaime was watching her back, Brienne unaware as she buried the girls. There was a name to the feeling. When she had challenged him to have his way with her. He dare not name it. She had come so close, he could have grabbed one of the two swords she wore. The memory of her eyes roving over his body wouldn’t escape him. He shivered, not because of the wind. A dangerous thought was bouncing around in the depths of his consciousness. He wasn’t so sure it was about stealing the sword.
If only I were strong enough.