Archive of Our Own ^beta

In her dream it had been spring. A meadow of soft flowers spread beneath her, hues of pink and purple and soft yellow travelling up the hillside as a brilliant blue sky stretched before her. She couldn’t say it was Tarth exactly, but it felt like home. When she turned on her side in the dream he was there, golden and strong, green eyes glittering as he gazed back at her. Jaime as he was in her mind, an honorable man with a smile that melted her. Brienne, he whispered, his fingers trailing up her arm in a slow, savoring movement. He combed through the ends of her hair, making a sigh leave her body that curled up from her toes. When their lips met it was soft and kind and made her feel lighter than the breeze that blew against them.

The breeze in her dream had been little more than Podrick airing out his dirtied blanket from his bed roll, flapping it too close to her so that specks of dirt and twigs hit her face. It woke Brienne with a start, breathless and blushing as she could still feel Jaime’s arm around her, lips against hers, as if it had been a memory she would soon forget. Just a dream, she reminded herself as she looked to his sleeping from across the dying campfire, dreams are not real.

She let the thought carry her to the other side of the fire, nudging Jaime awake with her heavy boot. They still had a long journey to go before they reached The Twins. There was a holdup on supplies that the Mallister guard had secured from Seagard and Sansa had tasked the three of them to see what the issue was and if it merited her dispatching a larger host to deal with it. The old lion buried deeper in the dingy furs he used to cover himself at night.

“It’s time to wake,” Brienne said, toeing him again behind his left knee.

“Stop that, wench,” he muttered, rolling his body over and grasping her calf firmly with his hand to still her kicks. He wasn’t holding her hard, not enough to cause pain, but the touch felt weighted and familiar, making her stomach tighten around its flutters. “Are you blushing?” he said suddenly, his eyes blinking with tiredness as he stared up at her. Just a dream, she reminded herself, wrenching her leg away from his hold.

“You’re impossible,” she murmured, stomping away to relieve herself behind a thick of trees.

By the time she made it back to their site, Jaime had relit the flame and was cooking their breakfast while Podrick finished readying the horses. The need to put as much distance between herself and Jaime brought her to sit on the overturned log close to where she had laid her bed roll the night before. Unsheathing Oathkeeper she intended to sharpen the steel when Jaime’s legs appeared in her field of vision. He stuck the plate of eggs and potatoes beneath her nose and sat beside her when she took it. Jaime’s legs stretched out in front of him, catlike as he rolled his shoulders and back, a contented sigh breathing out from his grinning mouth.

“A good morning, don’t you think, my lady?”

“Is it?” Brienne asked cautiously, shoveling the eggs into her mouth. “You’re certainly of a pleasant mood.”

“I am!” Jaime turned his grin towards her, “I was having a wonderful dream before you rudely interrupted. It was about you.”

A fleck of egg gracelessly flew from her mouth as she nearly choked. Jaime startled slightly, wiping at the spittle that had landed on his jerkin. “As I was saying, it was a lovely dream. We were swimming in waters that I believe could only be found near your home of Tarth, they were nearly as blue as your eyes and we were n—”

Brienne didn’t allow him to finish, jumping up at the mention of her eyes, heat rushing to her cheeks as she yelled for Pod so rashly the boy came running over to them in a near panic, hand on his sword hilt.

“Are the horses ready?” she asked more calmly when he appeared, his cheeks puffing out as he struggled to steady his breathing.

“Yes, my lady, Ser.”

“Great,” she said, walking long legged to her squire and pushing the rest of her breakfast into his hands. She turned sharply from them both and mounted the dappled grey stead that Lady Sansa had lent to her. “I’ll scout ahead on the Kingsroad. Don’t take too long to finish eating.”

With a kick she was gone, leaving the two men to stare at each other in confusion.

“I think we should splurge for an inn tonight,” Jaime remarked as they continued down the Kingsroad.

They had spent most of the day in silence, and in fact every time Jaime tried to stir up a conversation or ride closer to Brienne in order to enjoy her company the woman had taken off citing some imagined sound or her sudden need to stop to make water with a frequency she never had before. Jaime was beginning to wonder if she was sick, or else she was avoiding him for some reason he couldn’t think of. He spent the silence going over the past few days, which had passed pleasantly enough and with nothing remarkable happening that he could remember offending her by.

“Brienne? An inn, what do you think?” He dared not bring his horse closer to hers but knew she could hear him from the way her shoulders tensed up at the sound of her name. “Fine,” he grumbled, “Podrick what say you?”

“An inn would be wonderful,” the squire agreed, almost dreamily, eyes glazing over as he thought of how wonderful a hot bowl of stew would be instead of the last portion of salt fish they still had in their bags.

“It’s decided then, since your lady seems intent on not weighing in on the matter. Tonight we’ll sleep comfortably at an inn, and meet The Twins in the morning.”

The inn they had found wasn’t far off the Kingsroad. A sizeable establishment called The Broken Arrow, ran by a rather soft-spoken, hook nosed woman with a lazy eye that wandered to the right. Luckily, there were two rooms available with Jaime and Podrick insisting Brienne take the single room to herself. She was glad for it, feeling relief for the first time since she woke that she had a place to retreat to and could maybe dream again, undisturbed and unafraid of what her sleeping might reveal. Brienne paid the woman with gold Sansa had bestowed on them before they left Winterfell.

“Dinner’ll be ready in half an hour,” the woman rasped in her breathy voice, leading them to the common room. They took a corner booth and it wasn’t long before a barmaid had brought over three ales. Only a few other tables were occupied and a fire in the back of the room crackled warmly filling the room with the scent of smoke and earth.

“Cozy,” Jaime remarked, again trying to stir up some semblance of conversation.

“Yes,” Brienne agreed, sipping at her beer.

Jaime’s face lit with a grin and he nudged at Podrick’s side. “She speaks! I was afraid a witch had cast a muting spell on you, Ser, you’ve hardly uttered a response to me all day.”

Brienne’s eyes rolled upwards and she sighed heavily, leaning back in her seat across from them. Her legs, long and loosened before her, pushed against something. From the way Jaime’s brow quirked upwards it had not been the leg of the table. She straightened again, all the rigidness of a soldier, and took a long, slow drink of the hoppy ale.

She listened as Podrick and Jaime began to trade tales, a game they’d started early in the journey, trying to one up each other with their ridiculous tirades. She was glad for it, they knew she never participated, telling tall tales not being one of her strong suits. She watched though as they both laughed, easy smiles affecting them in ways that seemed impossible mere months ago when the realm was still entrenched in war and death at every moment.

She liked Jaime’s smile, so wide and open, and the way his eyes crinkled with delight. His laugh was almost like a sigh, not loud like Podrick’s, but full of mirth just the same. He’d glance at her every now and then, sharing the secret of his smile, and it brought the flames back up to burn her beneath the armor she still insisted on wearing.

“Are you alright?” he asked her suddenly, studying the way she looked back at him. The food arrived just in time to save her from having to answer.

She cursed herself inwardly, digging into the dish of steamed lamb with cinnamon and acorn bread. It was one dream! she pleaded with herself. A dream of his touch, tender and loving, of his lips on hers, soft and sweet. She wasn’t even sure if what she felt in her dream was how a real kiss would feel but if she thought of it hard enough her lips could tingle with the sensation. Every word he uttered today just reminded her of those cursed lips that would only ever kiss her in a fantasy. She just needed to rest, she knew, to sleep dreamlessly or better off have a nightmare about the Others to scare her back into her senses. She finished her dinner first, excusing herself despite Jaime’s protest, and finding her way to her room.

A series of knocks beat against the door in some later hour, after Brienne had bathed and scrubbed her body and mind from the day’s journey. Instinctively she reached for Oathkeeper, holding the sword behind her back as she let the door crack open. She breathed her relief at Jaime’s face on the other side and he took that as enough of a sign to let himself in the rest of the way.

“What is with you today?” He asked once the door had shut, his tone sharp and glaring.

Brienne placed the sword back where her armor lay across the small set of drawers. “I do not know your meaning, Ser.”

Jaime rolled his eyes at the formality. “I have been trying for hours to think of what I’ve done to upset you, Brienne, and frankly it’s driving me mad. Just speak to me, be out with it! Let me fix my offense.”

“Oh, Jaime,” she softened, her throat constricted at the pained way he looked at her. She didn’t mean to upset him. “You didn’t do anything.”

“I have a hard time believing that when every word I said to you has gone unanswered, and every time I move towards you, you back away. There! You just did it again!”

He had taken a step to her, and she moved back without thinking. Biting her lip, Brienne looked away from him, hands fidgeting together as she tried to think of something to explain herself with. Anything that wasn’t the truth.

“If you didn’t want me to come with you, you should have said something,” he started to mumble, watching her with agitation. “I’m sure Lady Sansa could have found someone else to go--”

“I dreamt of you!” she blurted, face stuck in a grimace as she did.

“Is that what’s been bothering you? A dream?” Jaime could have laughed, but she looked so upset he dared not to. “I can’t control what dream me did, but on behalf of us both I do apologize and I hope you can forgive us.”

“No it...” Her throat bobbed as if she was being forced to swallow a sword, but she looked at him finally, breathing deeply. “It was a nice dream.”

“So why are you...oh.” He couldn’t help the smile, really, and it cut his features into the sly golden way they used to sit. “How nice was it?”

“Jaime,” she warned.

“Must’ve been very nice if you’ve been avoiding me because of it,” he stalked closer to her, his eyes dark in the dim candlelight that lit the room.

“It wasn’t like that, it was only a kiss.” She put a hand up to his chest, keeping him at bay. He snorted, moving back a step to let her breathe.

“Did I kiss you or did you kiss me?” He asked an odd sincerity in his words.

Her eyes narrowed at him. “What does that matter?”

“Well in my dream you kissed me. I was just wondering if it happened the same way in yours.”

“You dreamt I kissed you?” Brienne tried to keep the shock from her voice. It was enough that he had had the dream, but to admit it to her in such a cavalier manner was disarming.

“Well, yes, I tried to tell you this morning but you ran off with the horse.”

“Don’t mock me,” she glared at him. “You said you had had a good dream.”

He smiled again, easy and wide, “It was. A very good dream.” He took a step towards her again and this time Brienne didn’t move away. “We were swimming, naked as our name day, in the bluest waters I’ve ever beheld. You had your arms around me like this,” he took one hand with his left, his wrist nudging at the other to mirror it as he placed her arm around his neck. “And I had my arms around you like this,” He placed them on her waist, his left hand holding her firmly. “And then you leaned up and kissed me. That’s how I knew it was a dream, since you’re taller than I am so I’ll have to do the upwards motion...when the time comes.”

She blushed deeply, letting her arms drop from their place around his neck. She didn’t know why he had to be so wicked about things.

“Now how was it in your dream?” he asked, still keeping his arms about her waist.

“We were lying in a meadow,” she spoke so low he could hardly hear her. “And you had your hand in my hair and you kissed me.” The words rushed out of her as quickly as she could get them, but still he smiled.

“So like this, then,” his left hand trailed up her side, slow and savoring every inch of her thick muscled waist beneath the thin cotton tunic she slept in. He slipped his fingers up the long column of her neck, feeling her tremble ever so slightly at his touch. He caressed at the nape of her neck, letting the ends of her hair brush against his fingers. She only had an inch on him, but still he pressed up on his toes, letting his lips hover just a breath away from hers. Their bodies were so close to each other, her arms were trapped between them, hands pressed firmly against his chest.

Brienne closed the space between them and the kiss was soft and kind and then firmer as he wrapped his right arm more tightly around her waist begging her to be as close to him as possible. His mouth was wet and warm, gentle as he moved against her. Her dreams held no comparison to the full press of his body and she tried to commit every inch of their touch to memory.

“I asked you not to mock me,” she whispered to the place his lips had been once he pulled away from her.

Still on his toes, he let his forehead dip to hers, pressing together. “I assure you I am not, my lady. Dreams can be prophetic.”

“It didn’t feel like this in the dream,” she sighed deeply, her body trembling with a cold ache at the absence of him. Jaime smiled at her, thumb tracing the soft line of her jaw. The gentle sweep settled her, and she turned her head without thinking, kissing his palm where she could reach it. The sound of his breath hitching dug deep within her and made her own breath shake.

“Podrick will wonder where I am,” he said, reluctant to let go of her now that he had had her in his arms.

Brienne nodded, “You should get back then.”

Jaime took her hand in his, thumb grazing across the calloused knuckles as he brought her hand to his lips. He brushed the barest of kisses to where his thumb had traced, then turned her arm over and placed another to the smooth skin of her wrist. “After this business with the Twins is settled, maybe we should go somewhere without Podrick, or Lady Sansa, or anyone else but just the two of us.”

“Yes,” Brienne sighed in hushed agreement.

“Dream of me, my lady,” Jaime said as he backed out of the room.

The door shut softly, leaving Brienne smiling to herself as she let the weakness in her knees give. She sat on the edge of the bed, cheeks blooming with a blush and her fingers tracing the parts of her lips where she could still feel Jaime. “I will,” she whispered to herself but her sleep that night held no dreams, only the promise of their next kiss when the sun rose again.