Chapter Text
It was a gorgeous day. The sun was shining, the people of King’s Landing were enjoying themselves, and Jaime hated every moment of it.
A year ago he would have done anything for a tourney held in King’s Landing, but then he had become part of the Kingsguard, had learned things he had never wanted to know, and now everything about this tourney felt wrong.
At least he had managed to get away from his duties for the duration of it.
Wandering around the tourney-site he found himself at the field reserved for the melees.
A small part of him wished to be on there, fight and prove that he was still as good and even better than the last time he competed. But a bigger part of him revolted at the thought of representing the king any more than he needed to.
“We can be together”, Cersei had said. And then left with their father just a few days later, not even bothering to write a letter at all in the past year.
Jaime sighed and shook his head. There was no use thinking about it any longer, was there? She clearly had made her choice. And it was not him.
On the field, a new fight had started.
He could see the guy who had been announced as Ronnet Connington and a knight in blue armour, without any indication of who he was, or which house he was representing.
Jaime hadn’t planned to stay longer than a few moments, had expected to be annoyed because he could point out all the mistakes they made. And while he was able to do just that, he found himself mesmerized by the taller knight.
Only paying attention to him, Jaime didn’t notice how the time went by and suddenly the first day was coming to an end. The final fight in the melee was going on and Jaime was cheering for the knight in blue armour just as much as the rest of the crowd.
Both knights were good, he could see that, but the taller one was better. Maybe a little sloppy with some techniques, but that was probably due to lack of experience, Jaime thought. And yeah the smaller one was fast and doing very well, but he didn’t stand a chance against the taller, stronger, faster one, and he yielded.
The crowd cheered, Jaime joined the applause, he hadn’t seen a knight like this in a while, distracting him from his own worries of every day.
And then the taller person took off his helmet and for a second Jaime didn’t understand why the crowd’s cheers turned into anger, why the expression on the defeated guy’s face turned from acceptance to rage. But then he registered and just stared open-mouthed at the woman in front of him.
She was tall, taller than him, he couldn’t see much more than that. All he could make out was her shoulder-length blonde hair getting illuminated by the slowly-setting sun. She shook her head to get the loose strands out of her eyes, a smile blossoming on her face.
But not for long.
Someone in charge stomped on the field and her smile vanished. Jaime couldn’t hear one word that was spoken but he didn’t need to. Of course, there would be consequences. She was a woman and women didn’t fight with swords, women didn’t compete in tournaments, and they certainly didn’t win.
She left the field, head held high even though she officially lost that fight, and was greeted by an older, even taller man who looked at her with a mixture of pride and exasperation and Jaime couldn’t do anything but look after her. He wanted to talk to her, congratulate her on the fight, ask her to spar with him, but his feet didn’t move, and then she was gone.
He spent the majority of the next day looking for her, it couldn’t be that hard. She must tower over almost everyone else here. But what if she left already? What if she didn’t want to spend any more time around people who couldn’t see how amazing she was because she was a woman? What if she left and he didn’t get to talk to her or fight her? He couldn’t just leave and travel through Westeros searching for a tall, blonde woman who can fight well. Though maybe with that description it wouldn’t take long.
And then he found her.
She was standing right next to an older woman and a dark-haired child, not doing anything except staring down a man he recognised as Ronnet Connington, her blue eyes glinting in the sunlight, full of anger. He didn’t need to have been there to be able to guess what happened here.
“I suggest you leave,'' she said, her voice was cold, full of that same anger he could see in her eyes. He never thought the sight of an angry woman could be like this. When Cersei was angry and cold he wanted to leave the room and not be anywhere near her until she calmed down. But right now, this woman’s anger, there was a strange feeling of warmth spreading through his chest. He was probably just happy to see she hadn’t left yet and he could get to talk to her.
“You’re like my knight in shining armour,” the child said, looking at her in awe.
She closed her eyes and shook her head with a soft smile that almost looked sad. “You know I’m not a knight.”
She should be a knight. The thought surprised him, caught him off guard and he took half a step backwards, tried to figure out where that thought came from. He didn’t know her. He saw her fight once, granted it was a great fight to watch, but he saw her fight one time, saw her defend a child and overheard a probably private conversation full of jokes.
And yet, he couldn’t stop thinking about how unfair it was that she wasn’t a knight, that she couldn’t be a knight but any man could almost without any effort.
Jaime took a deep breath and continued walking towards them. He needed to talk to her about her fight yesterday, ask her if she wanted to spar with him, just once, just so he could know how good she really was. He really needed to ask her for her name first.
“I saw you fight yesterday.” It wasn’t the kind of entrance he imagined making but it was what it was.
All three people turned their heads towards him, and he could see the second they recognised him, the taller woman opened her mouth and blinked a few times like she couldn’t believe she was meeting him, while the other one smiled kindly at him and made him feel like an idiot because he didn’t recognise Olenna Tyrell.
The past few days had been a lot. First, her father agreed to let her attend the tournament, not that she expected him to say No. after all, he usually gave in to her wishes. She just expected to have to fight more with him. But maybe he had felt guilty for his last attempt to find someone willing to marry her.
Then they had run into Lady Olenna, who had declared her as absolutely marvellous, introduced her to her granddaughter Margaery and left them alone to speak to her father about something. Margaery, in turn, had looked at her in a way that had made her feel self-conscious for a moment before she had smiled and decided they had to be friends now.
And then she had fought in the melee, done better than she had expected herself and in her excitement kind of forgot that she shouldn’t reveal who she was, and had done just that.
She figured the only way it hadn’t turned into a complete disaster, was because the melees took longer than anticipated and needed to continue today either way. Not with her competing, but with the men she did defeat yesterday.
Then today Ronnet Connington had sought her out, still upset about being defeated by her yesterday, and while she knew she should have just ignored him, as Olenna had tried to tell her, she just couldn’t. Apparently, she hadn’t been able to completely get over the feeling of humiliation when he broke the betrothal her father had arranged, the moment he actually saw her.
And to top all of these things Jaime Lannister, youngest boy to ever be knighted, had appeared, started talking to her, and rendered her speechless.
She knew he was talking to her, could see his lips moving, but she couldn’t understand what he was saying. There was too much ringing in her ears for the words to register in her brain because Ser Jaime Lannister was talking to her with a soft smile on his face, tilting his head to one side as if he just realised she was making a complete fool of herself by staring at him openmouthed.
She heard Olenna introduce herself and Margaery to Jaime, one hand on her arm, and it made it easier to breathe, calmed her down enough to follow the conversation.
Jaime’s attention switched to Olenna as he nodded in recognition and for the split of a second Brienne could see something like self-consciousness flicker over his face. But before she had a chance to think about what that could possibly mean, he covered it with a polite smile and introduced himself in return.
“And you are?” He looked at Brienne again, an expression on his face that she didn’t understand.
Most of the people she had met in her life, knew who she was. And they didn’t look at her as if they were genuinely interested in getting to know her. If anything they tried to ignore her and politely mask their disgust.
“Brienne”, she managed to introduce herself after Olenna poked her side with her elbow.
“Brienne”, Ser Jaime repeated as if he had just discovered something beautiful and she didn’t get it. It was just a name. She was just Brienne, the freakish, ugly daughter of the Lord of Tarth, who preferred swordfighting to whatever her Septa used to think she should do.
But Ser Jaime looked at her like he didn’t see any of that and it made her feel strange. Somewhat out of place. No one ever had looked at her like that. Not for real, at least. No one was supposed to look at her like that.
“So, you saw her fight?” Margaery asked, ended the silence that had started to grow uncomfortable between them, and managed to light up Jaime’s entire face.
“I did,” he confirmed. The green in his eyes sparkling in the sunlight. “I haven’t seen someone this good in a while.”
“I haven’t seen someone this good ever,” Margaery announced and Brienne couldn’t hide the smile that grew on her face. Never in her most daring dreams would she expect to get praised by Ser Jaime Lannister, member of the Kingsguard, youngest boy to ever be knighted. And suddenly she found herself talking to him about sword fighting. And it was easy. It felt right. Like the most natural thing in the world. Like she had done it her entire life.
He was recapping her final fight from the day before, giving detailed explanations about what she did and how good it was and she couldn’t stop the blush warming her cheeks and spreading over her neck. Doing these moves was one thing, having Ser Goodwin, who taught her, or even her father praise her for these moves was a regular occurrence in her life. But this was new. And she didn't know how to react or what to say.
Luckily he didn't seem to notice her lack of replies, he just kept talking, hands gesturing, eyes sparkling, and if she was being honest, she was completely fine with just watching him.
"So of course I had to find you and ask you if you'd like to spar with me one day," he said and looked at her expectantly, frowning a little when he noticed Ser Goodwin, who had shown up next to her while Jaime was talking.
She blinked a few times. “You want to spar with me?”
“Yes,” he confirmed.
“Why?”
“Because I like a challenge and you are really good.”
“But you’re … you,” she tried to explain, knew it didn’t do anything. How could he want to spar with her? He was so much better than her. Not that she had had the chance to see him fight, but she had heard the stories, and why else would he have become a knight at 15; a member of the Kingsguard right away?
He frowned, threw a helpless glance at Olenna but she could just shrug. “Yes, I am me. What are you trying to say?”
“You’re Jaime Lannister,” she tried to put her thoughts into words, knew it sounded ridiculous; as if he didn’t know his own name. “You’re one of the best swordfighters. The youngest person to become a knight, the youngest knight to be part of the Kingsguard. You surely have other people to spar with.”
She noticed the light dimming in his eyes when she mentioned the Kingsguard, but it lasted less than a second and it was probably just the sunlight hitting him differently because he moved his head a little. When she stopped listing the reasons why he couldn’t possibly want to spar with her, he was smiling at her again.
“I mean yes I have. And I can go and spar with them. But I do that every day. And you are good and I just want to see how good you are sparing with me,” he shrugged. “But if you prefer, we could fight for real?”
“Why would I agree to that?”
“Because you are good and you won all your fights and I want to do it. And if you win I can knight you.”
He didn’t know why he just said that. He couldn’t explain it to himself, let alone anyone who would ask him. All he knew was that it felt right to offer it to her. She could decline either way, maybe she didn’t want to be an actual knight.
He was still processing his own words when he noticed her expression changed from shocked surprise to annoyance.
“I don’t need your pity,” Brienne said, her voice almost as cold as it was when she talked to that guy before him. But he could also hear trembling, as if she was worrying that he was joking.
“Pity?” he asked
“You think I want to be a knight because that would be the only option for me to be more than the ugly girl no one would ever want to marry. Because I could never be a proper lady.”
She didn’t sound accusing. If anything she sounded resigned. Like she actually believed that.
“I think you want to be knighted because you know you’d be a great knight. Your skills with the swords are great from what I saw, and why would you train swordfight if you didn’t at least once think about being a knight.”
“Maybe that’s what you did, Ser Jaime, but I am not you.”
“I know that. But you remind me of myself when I was younger. Skilled in sword fight, helping people because it is the right thing to do, wanting to be a knight-”
“I don’t want to be a knight.”
He almost believed her, but her voice betrayed her lie.
“Why not?”
“I am a woman. Women can’t be knights.”
“People the age of fifteen can’t be knights and look at me.”
Brienne sighed and looked away, folded her arms in front of her chest, and he couldn’t say if she did it because she was annoyed or to protect herself from whatever emotions he could see clouding her eyes.
“Listen,” he said after a few moments of silence between them. “I’m sorry. I overstepped and I shouldn’t have assumed things. I was excited and not thinking.” That wasn’t the first time and it wouldn’t be the last time. He could hear his father’s voice reminding him of just that, could see Cersei’s expression whenever he did anything without thinking.
Brienne finally turned her head to look at him again and he couldn’t help but lift the corners of his lips into a smile.
“I think you’d be a great knight but, of course, if you don’t want to be one, you shouldn’t,” he kept going on. He wasn’t sure if what he said helped his case in any way, he just knew that he didn’t want Brienne to be upset with him for any reasons. Wanted to see her eyes shine with happiness rather than hurt.
“I’d still like to spar with you-”
“I think you should go for it,” the man who had shown up next to Brienne interrupted his attempt of apologies and he turned his head to him. Was he saying what he thought he was saying?
Brienne seemed to wonder the same thing muttering a bewildered “what?” in his direction.
“I mean, what do you have to lose? If you win, you get to be a knight. And don’t even try to tell me you don’t want to be one, Brienne. Even if I hadn’t known you as long as I did it would be very obvious. And he is right, you would be great. Certainly better than that Ser Ronnet we just met. And if you lose then… what happens if she loses?”, he turned to Jaime.
“Nothing.”
“See, you have nothing to lose.”
Brienne sighed, seemed to realise there wasn’t anything left she could say to argue against them.
“Okay,” she agreed at last. “I will fight you.”
He would lie if he said he didn’t worry that she changed her mind and left already.
But she was still there and he felt almost relieved.
There was no crowd like the time he watched her fight, possibly because this was in no way official. But Margaery was here with Lady Olenna and the tall man, Jaime assumed to be Brienne’s father, as well the other man who seemed to be a good friend of the family at least.
As they took position he noticed a few people walking by and stopping, curiously watching what was happening.
Brienne waited as they circled each other for a moment, not breaking eye contact, ignoring everyone around them. And when Jaime attacked she blocked him almost easily. He knew she was good, had seen it the other day, but he still had managed to underestimate her strength.
He charged again, stronger this time, she blocked again, with noticeably more effort, and he felt his lips curing into a smile. This felt good. This felt right.
Out of the corner of his eyes, he noticed more people stopping to watch, a small crowd gathering around them, but Brienne was attacking and he needed to concentrate on that, wouldn’t make it easy for her.
They broke apart again, managed to take a breath and the noise in his ears became clearer again, made it possible to guess what the crowd was whispering. Before he could do so much as angrily turn his head to them - could they not see that it didn’t matter if she was a woman? - Brienne charged at him again, fueled by the need to prove them wrong. And he almost couldn’t block this time.
Her sword hit his with more force than he expected and he could feel it starting to slip out of his hand. His eyes met hers, brilliant blue like sapphires in the sun and for a second he considered letting go, letting her win, because if anyone deserved to be a knight it was her. But there was something in her eyes that told him she would resent him for that. She would know and she would hate it. So he strengthened his grip around his sword and kept it in his hand.
When he sent her sword to the ground a couple of minutes later, forcing her to yield and [maybe something is missing?] they’re both out of breath and he knew it was only a matter of seconds until he would have had to admit defeat.
He could see the light in her eyes vanish for a brief second, disappointment showing through before she carefully put on a mask of indifference.
And slowly he could focus on his surroundings again, could hear the crowd cheer for both of them.
He grinned when he picked up her sword from where it rested on the ground and walked towards her. Hadn’t felt this good in months, and he knew it was because of Brienne. Yesterday he wanted to spar with her because he thought she looked like a worthy opponent, today he wanted to spar with her again because he knew she was.
And then he made a decision.
She didn’t know why she was upset about this. She didn’t really expect to win against him either way, let alone be knighted. Today or any other day. And yet there was this feeling of disappointment, of failure. Weirdly mixed with a sense of accomplishment because she knew he had struggled around the end, knew that she could best him with just a bit more training. But that didn’t change much about the fact that she lost and couldn’t explain why it upset her as much as it did.
At least until Jaime picked up her sword and walked towards her, his eyes sparkling with delight and a wide grin on his face, that she couldn’t help but return.
She expected him to maybe tell her this had been a good fight, maybe offer to spar with her once more, help her get better. But he didn’t say anything, just handed her her sword and looked at her with a strange expression.
“Kneel”, he suddenly said. Brienne had been about to turn away, walk towards Margaery who was frantically waving at her, seemed to struggle between wanting to run to her and not wanting to come too close to the swords, but now she froze, turned back to Jaime.
He never said what would happen if she lost, she assumed he’d leave her be, forget about her as just another one of the opponents he won against. Maybe he would have some tips for her to improve her sword fighting. She didn’t expect him to mock her for indulging in the fantasy that maybe he was able to make that one dream she had come true. She shouldn’t have ever admitted having that dream. Not to herself and especially not to Ser Goodwin.
He was standing in front of her, waiting patiently. There was no malice showing in his eyes, just determination and before she could tell herself to stop dreaming, remind herself not to trust any man, no matter how nice he seemed to be, she knelt before him, never looking away from his face, her hand ready to draw her sword again if he tried anything.
She could see a soft smile blooming on his face and then he brought his sword down to her right shoulder.
“In the name of the Warrior, I charge you to be brave.”
She stopped breathing. He said he’d do it if she won, that was their deal. And she had lost.
“In the name of the father, I charge you to be just.”
Maybe she was dreaming after all? Maybe she would wake up in her bed and their fight hadn’t happened yet. Maybe the whole tournament hadn’t happened and she’d wake up on Tarth.
“In the name of the Mother, I charge you to protect the innocent.”
Maybe someone would come and let her know that this was a mistake, that Jaime Lannister couldn’t just knight someone, especially not a woman.
She couldn’t make out what the crowd was saying. If there even was still a crowd or if they had all left after their fight was over. All she could hear were the words Jaime was speaking, and the buzzing in her ears.
“Arise Brienne of Tarth, a Knight of the Seven Kingdoms.”
She blinked a few times, stared at him, tried to figure out what exactly just happened. He couldn’t really have knighted her. That wasn’t their deal.
But he kept smiling at her, his eyes sparkling in the sun and slowly she stood up, unable to hold back the smile on her own face. Slowly accepting the fact that it wasn’t just a dream after all, she wouldn’t wake up and not be a knight.
Jaime sheathed his sword and nodded at her but before she was able to form any words - of thanks or of anger, she wasn’t quite sure - he turned away from her, waved to the crowd and walked away.