Work Text:
‘I can’t.” He says it so sharply that it breaks through the confluence of noise around them. The crews shouting; the boats knocking, the seagulls, the merchants on the dock, it all fades. Her vision tunnels from where she has been working the hooks of an orphan’s coat until all she sees is the dingy hook and the calloused finger and its torn cuticle. “Wench, I can’t.”
She finishes the hook before turning to him so slowly that she’s not sure she’s actually moving until they are facing each other. His eyes make her flinch, so green and lost, red at the rims and pooling with something between hatred and despair. She reaches her hand up and brushes at the corner of one before it can overflow. He grasps at her wrist.
“Brienne I-.” She pushes her thumb against his lips.
“Okay then.” She says cooly, turning slightly towards their fellow fleeing travel companions. Survivors. Refugees.
“You’ll have my money and supplies, take the pack.” She faintly sees his gold hand swing out towards the pile of belongings that Pod stands before, looking stricken. “When you get to Pentos, Tyrion will honor our agreement. He’ll care for them. Help you find them work and homes.” The orphans look at her warily. “You’ll be free to find the feral Stark girl.” She looks at Gendry who reads her face and gives her a stiff nod. “You’ll do it. You’ll fulfill our vow.”
“I will.” Brienne lets the words rip from her still raw throat, as he eyes slip shut. “Our vow.”
“You can-.” He gulps, his words spilling from his lips like bile. “‘I’ll find a septon. I’ll make sure that you’re freed-.”
“Oh do shut up!” She yells, yanking her arm from his grasp, her skin stings as his fingernails find purchase in an attempt to hold onto her. She takes two long strides, a pair of giant brown eyes pushing Jaime’s frantic babbles of remorse from her ears. She brings up both her palms to Pod’s face and stares back at him, her little finger settles against the raw red marks from the noose that almost claimed him. “Stay with Gendry. You do not leave his side until he delivers you to Tyrion Lannister. Do you hear me?”
“Yes.” The word bursts out of his mouth like a curse. She tightens her hold on his face and shakes him as he starts to sniffle.
“You continue your training. Don’t fall into his ways.”
“Yes, My Lady..Ser.” He chokes it out like a cry. She shakes him again as if to bring him out of it before pressing her lips to the child’s forehead. She looks again at Gendry but he’s already leading the orphans onto the boat, reaching back and grabbing Pod roughly by the shoulder. She turns back to Jaime.
“We’ll meet again.” Jaime continues, oblivious to what has just happened here. She straightens her spine. “When you return with the Stark girl. I’ll-.” He leans in as if to kiss her and she knocks the wind from his lungs with her forearm against his solar plexus. “Hu!”
Brienne walks off the dock and into the market. She’s got just enough gold in the purse at her hip to buy their horses back if she’s quick about it. She’s pondering whether that is indeed the best use of their limited funds when he grabs her arm and yanks until she turns. He’s rubbing at his abdomen with the forearm of his right hand and squinting in pain-filled confusion.
“What are you doing?” He spits at her.
“Deciding our next move.” She growls. “How long can we stand here before you’re noticed and your sister's soldiers cart you off to the black cells?”
He has the good grace to look around cautiously before walking them away from the crowded scene, knocking the hood of his cape up around his face.
“Our next move?”
“I’m assuming you want to go back for her?” Brienne’s terse tone. “Was I wrong?”
“I-.” He stops, making a face, arm still rubbing and for a moment she’s worried she’s ruptured something in him. “Back?”
“You can’t go to Pentos.” She says in exasperation.
“No.” He agrees, with a slow shake of his head. “I can’t just leave. But you-.”
“Then I can’t just leave.” She stops him, wincing as he flinches when her arm raises. She lowers her flattened palm to his forearm and holds him like he had hold of her on the dock. “If you can’t just leave, how can I?”
“Your vow.” He murmurs, moving his hand from her forearm to her elbow then down her arm.
“Yes.” She closes her eyes for a second before opening them to his. Blue meets green, calm sapphire waters into frantic emerald seas. He stills. “So many vows..” His eyebrows crinkle. “I am his and he is mine.”
Jaime looks as if he might drown until she leans her forehead against his and he sucks in a long staggered breath.
“You made those vows quite taken with fever.” He reminds.
“You made our first in chains and at sword point.” She counters as his fingers cradle the tight corner of her jaw. She presses her scarred cheek into the warmth of his palm.
“You have a point.” He chuckles and she pushes her lips against his fluttery eyelashes.
“Kings Landing then?” She can hear the wisp of jealousy in her voice and it makes her angry.
“Not for her, Wife.” He says softly against her chin, she pulls back to look at him. “Tommen. Myrcella. They’ve done nothing-.” He swallows. “Watching you with those children. How could I usher them safely away and leave my own to-?”
“Then Dorne.” She says, her eyes flickering towards the ships. “Dorne first. The princess will be easier to access than the king.” She sees he wants to disagree, Tommen is in greater peril. “We can’t help Myrcella if we are dead or on the run. Our best hope for both is to get her well away before we try to kidnap a king.”
He snorts at that.
“I’ll be the death of you.” He tells her mournfully before she kisses him hard.
“From this day to the end of my days.” She finishes, watching him stare at her in wonder for a moment. But then reality returns. “Give me your hand.”
“You have it.” He squeezes her fingers and she rolls her eyes. “I have but the on-. Oh.” He holds up the giant block and she nods.
“We passed a Smithe.” She swallows and looks at him gently. “We need coin.” Understanding dawns. He grimaces and she hesitates. “Oathkeeper's jewels..” She breathes.
“No.” His grimace turns into a scowl as he shakes the hand at her. “Take it and make it useful,” He watches her undo the straps pulling it away and tracing her fingers over his chafed scars. “Gendry will find Arya. We’ll send Myrcella to Tyrion with more coin to help him to do so.”
She nods as he takes his golden appendage from her as she carefully rolls the cuff of his shirt.
“When we have Tommen we’ll go to the Rock and wait for Tyrion and his new queen there.” He finishes hoarsely.
“Cer-”
“Will die on the throne.” He presses his body against her. “But we will live.”
“We will live.” She repeats to him like a promise.