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"You know, this really isn't necessary," Brienne insisted, for at least the dozenth time. "All that really matters is that you and I wish to get married. Besides, my father will certainly agree--he's always done whatever it takes to make me happy. And despite recent shortcomings, Lannister is still one of the most respectable names in Westeros. It's a better match for me than it is for you."
Jaime glanced up at his soon-to-be bride. Her blue eyes reflected buildings and sailors and the sea. There was a glimmer to them sometimes, when the sun passed overhead just right. And the contented curl to her lips was far more frequent than it had been in previous years. When Jaime smiled, it was almost a smirk. "I have to disagree." He took her hand and pressed his lips to the palm of it. "I'm afraid you may be getting the short end of the stick, my dear. I believe I've heard tales of sapphires."
Her faint blush turned to a roll of the eyes as she swatted him away. "Oh, come off it. I knew you were after me for the money."
He laughed in response and took her hand again, squeezed it. "A most noble cause, to be sure."
The docks were growing ever-nearer, as was the hailing dusk. The clouds hadn't yet dispersed into stars, but swathes of pink had begun to touch blue and white, coating the sky in a sort of ruby haze. It was beautiful. This was right; this was safe. He tried to tell himself that, to repeat it to himself inside of his head, but a deeply-buried part of him was still inevitably anxious. He was a man with one hand flesh, the other hand gold. He still wrote with the scrawl of a nine-year-old and though he fought a bit better now, he'd long since forsaken his knightly title. And so many knew him as Kingslayer, as Oathbreaker, as the betrayer without a scrap of loyalty left in him. What would Lord Selwyn think, of the eldest heir to a dying house, with little but legends to his name? Brienne had told him this didn't matter--that she would marry him even if her father denied his request. And yet, she always spoke so highly of her father. He wanted to prove himself worthy of her to the one she loved the most.
As if sensing his nerves, she squeezed his hand tightly. He relaxed into her grip.
The docking was a relatively short process, full of sailors shouting across the way to one another, and gleeful cries from a few gathered townsfolk, come to see their beloved Brienne's arrival. She'd grown quite popular in her absence and even moreso, it would seem, upon her return. A few of Jaime and Brienne's most trusted knights--including the Tyrell boy, Loras, who had taken quite a liking to Brienne since her engagement--rustled into the crowd to keep away the masses. Jaime turned to his betrothed, and gathered all the courage he could. "Are you ready then, my dear?"
"I still think this is quite unnecessary."
"Consider it a formality, then. And if he does say 'no,' we'll run away and get married in the mountains or the woods."
"Perhaps a tavern," Brienne joked.
"Quite romantic."
The walk to Lord Selwyn's palace was a short one. Their arrival was announced by one of his personal squires who had bowed to Jaime and bowed lower still to his fiancée before proclaiming into the chamber: "Lord Jaime of House Lannister, and Lady Brienne!"
They had sent a raven ahead of course, announcing their departure and estimated arrival. The grin on Lord Selwyn's face when his daughter ran to him was brilliant with surprise and delight all the same. They hugged tightly for a moment before Brienne let him go and backed away to reveal the reason she'd came. "This is Ser Jaime, Father. A... friend. I've mentioned him before." Jaime bowed as low as he could.
"You have, you have," Lord Selwyn agreed. He turned to Jaime, gesturing at him to rise once more. "Taking good care of my daughter, then? Or rather, has she taken good care of you?"
He laughed appropriately. "She has, my lord. Quite fearsome in battle, far more fearsome than I, though it wounds my pride to say it."
"It shouldn't," said Lord Selwyn, though not unkindly. "She's the best around, my Brienne. Though I suppose you haven't visited solely to praise her skills in combat?"
There were certainly other skills of hers that he could praise, though he decided against it here. "I'm afraid not, Lord Selwyn. I have... something of a confession to make."
Even Brienne raised her eyebrows. Her father said: "A confession?"
"Yes, my lord." He had said it a dozen times--a hundred, or perhaps more than that, but only ever to her, only ever to Brienne. Whispered in the night and in the morning and passionately and casually and lovingly, always lovingly. "I have fallen most deeply in love. Your daughter has captured my heart."
"Has she?" He looked to Brienne with raised eyebrows. The gentle pink of a coming dusk warmed her cheeks as she briefly glanced away.
"She has. I owe her my life--in every sense of the word, though I know that's a debt I could never repay. Still if you--and she--would let me, I would try to repay it every day, for the rest of my life. She is everything I never dared to dream, and then, almost suddenly, she was everything I ever dreamt." He remembered ever dream she'd ghosted into, remembered every line of dialogue and catch of blue. Still, as important as love was to him--more important than anything, now that he'd truly known it--Lord Selwyn was certainly expecting something more. "From the standpoint of wealth and titles, I assure you that you wouldn't have to worry. The Lannister name still holds many riches, and as heir to the family name, Brienne and I would rule over Casterly Rock for many years, after which our eldest son or daughter would inherit the position. An alliance between our two Houses would be most beneficial, I assure you." He wanted that--a family and safety and comfort and security. But most of all, he wanted her. "Far more valuable to me than the bond between our Houses, however, is the bond between Brienne and I. I love her. And I don't believe anything--not steel nor word nor wealth--could ever come between us."
"Quite the poet," Lord Selwyn remarked. Still, he was looking quite pleased with the speech, beaming at the man he would someday call son. Brienne was smiling widely too, and when their eyes met, Jaime couldn't help his own grin. She knew--she must--that he'd been practicing this particular monologue for quite some time, worried about stuttering or slipping up or sounding stupid. But she knew--she must--that he meant every word.
Jaime bowed his head once more to Lord Selwyn before concluding. "I ask not for dowry or money or land. I simply ask for her. Brienne--she is the most cherished gift of all, though I'm sure we both know that she is no one but her own to give."
"Indeed," Lord Selwyn agreed, with a shining smile at his daughter. "Therefore, I think it's her you should be asking."
He already had, of course. Before he'd proposed it to anyone else, he'd proposed it to her. A dozen times, in a dozen different ways. And each time, she had replied 'yes' or 'of course' or 'you bloody idiot, I agreed to it already.' Still, he felt it would be fitting to kneel, crouched on one knee, gazing up at her as he had a dozen times. It was funny, how each time she grew more beautiful, how each time he noticed something softer or harsher in her face, how each time he loved her more and more and more. Always more.
It was funny, the sudden salty wetness dappled across his face.
"My lady Brienne," Jaime said, in something just north of a whisper. "I believe you know my feelings for you, and it is my deepest desire that you would see to accept my proposal. I know I have done very little, comparably, to prove myself worthy of your affections, but my own are quite persistent." A deep breath, a catch somewhere between throat and lungs. A collection of echoes and stardust. An exhale. "Will you forever hold my heart? And will you allow me the honor of forever holding yours?"
"Always," Brienne breathed. There was a gleam to her eyes that revealed he was not the only one crying. "Inevitably. Endlessly."
In one swift motion, she helped him to his feet and he embraced her. They held each other tight for one moment, then two. Then they didn't let go. He whispered into the crook of her neck: "It seems, my lady, that you'll be stuck with me. Endlessly."
She laughed--a wet sound. "Inevitably."
"Always."