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“This isn’t… This isn’t right. We shouldn’t do this.”
Her voice was higher pitched than normal. He always enjoyed it when her voice did that; whenever her voice began to raise pitches, sounding strangely girly, he could always tell that she was struggling against herself. When her voice did that, he knew that she was warring between what was deemed right and what she wanted. Nine times out of ten, everyone would choose what they wanted, but she was different. She gave fight to her own desires, almost more than she fought other men and their preconceptions about her. It was fascinating, to say the least, always had been and always would.
“Oh come now. There is right and there is ‘right’ – and no one in this city truly does either.”
“There are plenty of men and women of honor here. The Kingsguard–”
He let out a laugh. “The Kingsguard is nothing but a name anymore. I was in the Kingsguard! As was Kettleback before you gutted him with Oathkeeper. And if I had pig shit for honor, then who knows what he had.”
Despite his callous words – despite the truth of it and the absurdity of the situation – Brienne’s face softened. “You have honor. It’s just…a different sort of honor.”
Jaime rolled his eyes as he fell back onto the bed, going silent as she watched him. She was the only one in this damned city that thought he had any honor left in him. The Kingslayer turned King. He knew what the people of the city whispered about him. It was a bloody miracle that his head hadn’t ended on a spike. It was ridiculous that he had somehow managed to become king. But the Queen did what she wanted and what she thought was right, best, you name it. She’d forgiven him upon finding out what exactly had happened all those years ago at the foot of the Iron Throne and had told his secret to everyone in Westeros. He became a hero, though his nickname never went away. As time went on, she had grown to realize what she needed to do in order to bring the people back. She used the new hero of Westeros to her advantage.
And if the Dragon Queen can set aside honor for a night or three, then so can I.
“A different sort of honor,” he mused aloud as he languidly reached out to touch her white armor. “Is that what they’re calling it these days?”
She went to stand up, but he gripped onto an edge of the armor and held her back. If she’d truly wanted to, she could have pulled away from him easily – she was stronger than him, if he was honest with himself; and he had a lax grip on her besides – but she hesitated and stayed sitting down. “What of our vows? You are married to the Queen and I swore–”
“I know what you swore,” Jaime interrupted as he sat back up next to her. His eyes never left hers. She may not have been a sight to look upon, not like Cersei had been, but her clear blue eyes had always been more beautiful than anyone’s he had ever seen. Cersei’s eyes had only been his in the end. “I said the vows myself. You can hold no lands or titles; you can bear no sons or daughters. That doesn’t mean you cannot live.”
There was than troubled look on her face, the one she always wore right before she forsook her vows with him. It was her best look; and it always managed to rile him up. “Jaime…”
“Besides, since when have vows ever meant anything to me?” he continued as he began to undo her armor for her with one hand. It felt like he was peeling off a layer of her skin. This white armor was more than just armor to her; it was a shield that she hid behind, just as he had done. No matter how much time passed, it would always be odd being the one that the white cloaks guarded. It would always feel strange wearing royal clothes while Brienne wore the white cloak and armor that he’d once worn, that he’d thought to wear for all his life. “Enjoy yourself. Do what you desire for a change.” He smirked at her. “Your King commands it.”
Brienne swatted his hand away. “But the Queen–“
“Is too busy making a different Kingsguard knight forsake his vows,” Jaime finished for her. She just stared at him with those blue eyes, seemingly endless pools of blue just like the waters that surrounded Maidenpool. It hadn’t been difficult to notice the way that Ser Jorah Mormont looked at their Queen. It had been the same way that Jaime had once looked at Cersei when she had been Queen. The moment he’d caught on, Jaime had let out a laugh and made his way to Brienne’s chambers almost immediately. “The Bear and the Dragon – what a delightful story no one will ever hear. What would ours be? The Lion and the Maid? Oh, wait, we can’t do that anymore…”
Whenever Brienne blushed, Jaime always smiled. He did whatever he could to make her blush on a daily basis, even while she was standing guard and stiffly trying to ignore anything he said. It wasn’t even directed towards her most of the time. She turned pink in the cheeks whenever she was holding back laughter as well.
“One of these days, you’re going to come to terms with the fact that vows aren’t the same thing as promises,” Jaime told her as he set her white cloak down. They wouldn’t want to get that soiled, not like he’d done. He wanted to do everything in his power to make sure that she was never treated the way he had been after he’d killed Aerys. He wanted to protect her. “They’re more like rules – meant to be broken.”
“Rules aren’t made to be broken, Your Grace.”
Jaime’s smile curved into a smirk as he pressed his lips against the side of her neck. “Keep calling me that and vows might not be the only thing that gets broken tonight. Your bed might not make it through the night.”
When all was said and done, and both of them had their way, Jaime waited until he knew that she’d fallen asleep. Most people probably assumed that Brienne snored, from all the times people called her a cow, but she was quiet as a mouse. He was too, if only because he knew that snoring could get you killed during a war. It wasn’t war time anymore, though he could never quite seem to wrap that around his head. He lied in bed, looking at the ceiling and idly tracing what little curves she had under the sheets. Thirty minutes after he was certain she’d fallen asleep, he pulled himself out of bed and slipped his clothes back on. It was still difficult to do with one hand, but he managed for the most part, making only a bit of noise. With two hands, he would’ve been able to cloth himself silently and slip out in a matter of minutes.
He left, as he always did, in the dead of night and wandered back to his bedchambers. It wasn’t very often that Jaime stayed in his room all night; most of the time, he could be found wandering the castle, escaping a Kingsguard member from time to time. The king was supposed to be guarded at all times, but he hated that. He hadn’t been able to escape the king when he’d been a knight and now that he was a king he couldn’t escape the knights. The price of royalty appeared to be privacy, among many other things, like freedom. All Jaime had ever wanted was freedom though. He’d never one desired the crown or that damned throne.
Danaerys was awake when he walked into his bedchambers, candles still lit and everything.
“I have to say,” Jaime said as he crossed the room, “I didn’t think you’d be back.”
Danaerys Targaryen was as beautiful as women came. With her pale blonde hair that fell all the way to her back, sharp purple eyes, silk white skin, and supple curves, she was certainly a temptress. She was a powerful woman as well, but Jaime figured that anyone in control of three dragons would have to be powerful. She looked at him in a way that suggested she was considering giving him to the flames, but that was a punishment that she had done away with, lest she wanted the people to consider her the Mad King reborn.
“You must have been doing something very important to be up this late.”
Jaime pulled his shirt over his head and tossed it to the side for the second time in two hours. “A king has his duties.”
“Did you give Brienne my regards?” she asked lightly, as if she was treading on delicate ice.
“Did you give Ser Jorah mine?” Jaime turned to regard her with true casualness. Her cheeks turned pink, but he knew that she would not respond to such a quip. It was below her. She was a dragon. She did not need to answer to a man, least of her a lion, least of all her husband and king. Everyone knew who truly ruled here; and he let her have control gladly. “I thought not.”
“You will not speak of this–”
Jaime waved her away as he got into bed. “Don’t worry, my love. I wouldn’t dream of spoiling your nightly escapades, so long as you don’t bother mine.”
And just like that, the deal was made between them. In all honesty, it was probably the best thing that could have happened for their marriage and the Seven Kingdoms. Robert had whored around obviously, but Cersei had kept her doings with Jaime a secret. It had cost them everything. And when Rhaegar and Lyanna Stark’s forbidden love had cost them everything. Jaime was tired of love and the like ending with war and death. It wasn’t fair to anyone. So why keep it a secret if it would only poison them in the end? Why hide it at all if it would only mean their death?