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Warmth around his body. Light behind his eyes. A smile formed on his lips as he rolled onto his side, wrapping his arm around the warm body next to him, pulling it close. Burying his nose in his wife's neck, he took a deep breath. Pressed a lingering kiss to her ever so soft skin. Soon, their little rascals would storm their bed and steal their mother away from him. So these quiet mornings were especially precious to him; when she was all his. Not a mother. Not a lady. Not a queen. Just a woman. His woman. His lover. His wife.
He pulled her closer, longing to feel her skin against his. She made the sweetest little noise when he cupped her breast with his hand. Letting out a chuckle, he squeezed. Maybe they had enough time to-
The sound of water. Jaime groaned and pressed himself against his wife. Apparently, the morning had begun, proven by more rummaging in the room. Soon, the maid would wake them and take her away from him.
No.
Not today. He would not let her be a queen today. They would take the cubs, pack a picnic, go to their waterfall and spend time together. As a family.
“Your grace?”
Frowning, Jaime pulled his wife closer to his body. He would not let her go.
“Your grace?”
No!
“Ser Jaime?”
He groaned a protest.
“Are you ill, ser?”
Ill?!
Even though anger quickened his heartbeat, opening his eyes proved difficult. As soon as he managed, the warmth around him dissipated. Her scent evaporated. Her body in his arms turned into a pillow. Reality formed around him, tearing at his body and his soul until he remembered who and where he was.
A pang in his heart.
Was that possible, he asked himself, sitting up and running a hand through his messy curls, to dream of an entire different life?
It was so real, he mused as he got up and went to the freshly filled water bowl. He could hear her laugh still, feel her skin beneath his fingertips. He knew the taste of her skin, her lips, her tongue, her...
His chest warmed and tightened. Gods, he even knew what it felt like to be inside of her. He had rubbed her swollen belly, felt little feet kick against his hands. Tears welled up in his eyes when he remembered the scent of his babes, felt their weight and warmth in his arms.
Turning away from the servant setting up his breakfast, he stepped onto his small balcony and looked at the sapphire waters as he saw the children that never were behind his eyes. He cried for them, hearing them laugh and cry before the wind carried their sounds away. So much pain for a dream, Jaime thought in disbelief, laughing at himself.
“Your breakfast is ready, your grace.”
“Leave me”, he rasped, and waited for the door falling close before he turned around.
Heaviness in his chest as he stared at the sad little table next to the fireplace. Only one chair. In his dream, this heavenly dream, he had never eaten alone. It had been her, all romance and touching hands and later all of them, lots of fun and chaos and spilled milk. A smile flitted across his face as he remembered. For a moment, the room illuminated. Only for a moment.
His world was dark now. Unbearable. He wanted this light back.
He would get it back.
- oOo -
“Your grace, his grace is here to see you.”
Brienne almost dropped the spoon in her hand.
“Ser Jaime?!”
His chuckle,then he pushed past the servant and stepped into her solar. Brienne's heart skipped a beat. He was wearing the red leather jerkin. Curse him. He looked way too fine in this tight-fitting jacket.
“Good morning, wife.”
His smile made her heart clench. Frozen to her seat she watched him enter her solar, was walking towards her with that boyish, mischievous smile that had caused so many tears. She almost screamed at the servant not to leave her alone with him. Instead she sat there, staring at him like a fish as he approached. She couldn't move as he stood in front of her, couldn't move as he bent down and placed a soft, lingering kiss onto her forehead. Her eyes fell close as she felt his lips push against her skin. So soft. So warm. Gods.
“Happy birthday, Brienne.”
A shiver down her spine. He had whispered against her skin. Her eyes opened, looking at his throat. Beautiful. And he smelled really nice.
When he finally straightened, her cheeks were warm. Why did she always have to blush when it came to him? In the five years of her reign, she had become so much better. Only he could make her blush now. Curse him.
“Thank you, ser”, she replied, trying hard to make her voice sound steady. He smiled as he sat down. The door opened and the servant entered, hurrying to place a plate and cutlery in front of him, only to disappear again. Traitor, Brienne thought bitterly.
Looking down at the platters of food, Jaime forked a sausage onto his plate, grabbed some cheese and bread. Brienne sat there and watched him eat. She hadn't seen him in weeks, they had rarely shared a meal. Doing it now, completely out of nowhere, felt...odd.
“Do I have something in my teeth?” he asked as she kept staring.
Again, her cheeks warmed. It made her angry. “No.”
Jaime chuckled, reached for the haddock and put some on her plate. “Eat, wife. You have a long day ahead of you. And a night of celebration. Renly will surely keep you on the dance floor most of the night.”
A sting in her heart. Guilt. Shame. Ridiculous. He had never cared before with whom she danced.
He put some more food on her plate before he returned to his own meal. When she could finally take her eyes off of him and looked at her plate, she frowned.
“I don't like a heavy breakfast.”
“Really? Where do you get your energy from, then?”
She glared. “I am naturally strong.”
Jaime laughed. She held her breath. The sheer beauty of him...
“That you are, my love. That you are.”
Those words. Like a slap in the face. She jumped up, hitting the table with her thigh, causing clatter and clank.
Jaime looked up at her with wide eyes.
“What are you doing?” she asked, her hands balled into fists.
“What do you mean?”
A new surge of anger. “After ignoring me for years you just come in here, sitting down at my table uninvited, telling me what to eat, pretending to be jealous and calling me-”
The words got stuck in her throat. “Stop it”, she demanded instead. “Stop pretending to care! You never have and never will! You told me so in our wedding night!”
A flash in his eyes. They began to shine. “That was five years ago, Brienne.” His voice. So thin. Pained.
“Followed by five years of ignorance and disdain!”
Jaime rose from his seat. Looked at her with his green eyes in a way he never had before. His jaw clenched several times. Then he let out a breath and ran a hand through his shiny hair.
“You are right.” Brienne blinked. “I was a horrible husband. A worse consort. I would like to change that going forward.”
Brienne relaxed. Of course. “So this is what this is about. You want power.”
He looked at her. “What? No.”
“If you want something, make a request with my Hand. I will look at your proposal and judge it fairly, just as I do with everyone. You have the same right, no less...no more. Now, if you'll excuse me...”
She walked past him.
“Brienne”, he grabbed her wrist. The contact surged through her like fire, made her spin around and slap her own husband as hard as she could. Jaime's head flew to the side, he stumbled backwards, let go of her. The sound echoed through the solar, was out to sea away by the wind.
Shock was written on both their faces. Tears welled up in their eyes. Seeing them in his was too much. With a throbbing hand, Brienne fled the solar, storming past the confused servant on the other side of the door.
Let her console him, she thought. She was sure her husband found enough comfort amongst the servants.
Filling her head with images of her husband whoring around turned the guilt into anger. It helped her through the small council meeting and holding court. All day, lords and ladies from all over Westeros congratulated her on her 23rd birthday. When House Baratheon was presented before her and Renly smiled that charming smile, complimenting her on her dress, Brienne felt so guilty it made her queasy. There was no reason for it, she told herself. She had never touched him in this way, had always honoured her wedding vows. Yet, if she had been able to choose her husband for herself, it would have been Renly...
“Will you promise me the first two dances, your grace? I insist.”
“Insist all you want, Baratheon,” surprised whispers as Ser Jaime sauntered into the great hall, dressed in a blue jerkin with yellow lions and stars embroidered on his chest, his curls shining in the light and falling onto his shoulders, “the first two dances with our queen belong to her husband.”
Bowing to Brienne sitting on her high chair, Jaime took his seat next to her.
Brienne's heart was hammering in her chest. His left cheek was still read. Her hand began tingling again.
Why was he doing this to her?! Was this some sort of sick revenge? She knew he was dangerous when he felt wronged. Apparently, this was his way of paying her back for the slap. Fine. Let him sit next to her throne. She was the one sitting on it.
“You will partake in tonight's festivities?! What a lovely surprise, Lord Consort. It's the first birthday of her grace you will celebrate, will it not?” Renly asked, all smiles.
Brienne's heart skipped a beat. What was he doing?
Jaime smiled back. “Usually, I prefer to celebrate with my wife in private.”
Gasps and chuckles. Every lord and lady of Westeros knew that her bed had always been empty. Not only through court whispers, but also through the lack of children...and, of course, her face.
“Why the change of heart?”
Brienne held her breath. She wished Renly would stop. She knew his wish was to defend her. He was her most loyal friend and on a few instances, she had confided in him about this farce of a marriage.
“New dancing shoes”, Ser Jaime replied, making the court laugh again. Renly laughed along.
“Then I'm looking forward to watch you dance, your grace.” With a little bow, Renly retreated. Brienne could feel Jaime's pleasure from atop the throne. His presence was so dominant, even if she tried to ignore him. It nagged at her for the rest of the congratulations. When the last House was greeted, Brienne stepped down from the plateau her high chair stood on. To her dismay, Ser Jaime waited for her, holding out his hand. She had no choice but to take it and let him guide her out of the hall. As soon as they were out of sight, she pulled free and walked away from him. He let her.
But in the evening, he was standing in front of her door, looking like the Warrior himself, in his finest dark blue doublet with golden star buttons and a lion on his back. The dark leather trousers were tight, outlining his muscular legs.
As soon as he saw her scowl, he bowed.
“Good evening, your grace.”
“Good evening, Ser Jaime.”
He held out his hand. She looked at it. Walked past him. Jaime took a step back to make room for her short train. She was wearing the same dark shade of blue as him, countless little stars sewn onto it. Her head was adorned with her moon tiara, simple but elegant.
“Even at the risk of another slap, you look wonderful tonight.”
She froze mid-step. Looked at him over her shoulder. His eyes were soft. Confusing her. Since there were four queensguard surrounding them, she had to thank him.
“You look very handsome...as usual.”
A smile bloomed on his face. It made her heart skip a beat. Quickly, she looked away and started walking. He hurried to catch up. As they reached the huge double doors, Jaime took her hand. Now, she let him. Together, they walked into the great hall, past the Houses of Westeros.
It was the first time, Brienne suddenly realised. Ser Jaime had never walked beside her. No, that wasn't true. They had entered and left Evenfall sept together five years ago. It had been as awkward as it was now. Next to him, she felt so much uglier. The beautiful dresses were her shield, but next to him, any shield burst into a thousand pieces. Yet, she held her head high and took her seat next to him at the high table. Then she rose to give her welcome speech, her voice echoing through the hall. Her father had taught her how to speak, so she followed his advice and – burying the anger in her chest – she turned to her husband.
“I also want to thank my dear husband for joining us tonight. His presence will make this evening even more beautiful.”
Veiled slights she had learned during her time as queen. The court understood, laughing and clapping. He though...he took her hand and pressed a kiss to the back of it, looking up at her with such a softness that it made her yearn. She knew this feeling. Five years ago, she had yearned for him. Then he had crushed her heart in their wedding night and she had never had this feeling again.
So it hurt even more now, after all this time.
As respectfully as she could in front of all these eyes, she withdrew her hand and finished her speech. With a nod of her head to her master of ceremony, the music started playing and the food was served. It was delicious, as always. The cook had prepared all her favourite meals. The salmon was exceptional.
“That's the first real smile I see on you, tonight.” Brienne flinched when Ser Jaime started speaking. He smiled at her. “It's your favourite, isn't it? So, that's a light breakfast and salmon. What else do you like to eat?”
Brienne didn't reply. Instead she put a piece of caramelised carrot into her mouth.
“I don't really care for carrots. Vegetables in general.”
“They're good for you.”
“You sound like my mother...I assume, of course. I hardly remember her. Do you remember your mother? You must have thought of her a lot today. I always do on my birthday.”
She tried to ignore him. But she had indeed thought of her mother today.
“I remember her singing to me”, she said before she could stop herself. “Her voice was soft and beautiful.”
When there was no reaction, she looked up at him. He was looking at his plate, apparently lost in thought.
“You sang, too.”
“What?”
He looked up, his eyes full of tears. “You sang for us. Every night.”
“What are you talking about? I never sang for you.”
“Not in this life.” Jaime clasped his hand over hers. “Brienne, I need to speak with you. Come outside.”
“What? No!”
“Come!”
He rose and pulled at her hand.
“Ser Jaime! What are you doing?!”
“Come out with me, Brienne.”
“No! Stop! Jaime!”
The great hall fell quiet. Everyone was looking at their queen and her consort struggling at the high table.
“Let go of me”, Brienne hissed, trying to rip her arm free. The clanking of armour signalled that her queensguard were approaching. Jaime glanced to the side.
“Either you come with me, or I'll slice up your queensguard one by one”, he growled. The lion hadn't shown his teeth in a long time. But she knew that look of determination in his eyes. She had seen it before. And even though his claws had been pulled, he was still the best swordsman in Westeros.
“Let go of my arm”, she demanded. He did. A look at her captain and the queensguard returned to their post. With her head held high she walked out of the great hall through the door behind the throne.
“Come on.” Jaime took her hand again. With a sigh – and a beat of her heart – she let him have her way to get this thing over with.
They walked forever and ended on a balcony overlooking the dark sea. The air was fresh. Brienne took a deep breath. Then she turned around to face her husband.
“Now will you tell me what has gotten into you today?! You never cared whether I live or die. You told me-”
“I know what I told you in our wedding night, Brienne!” He shouted back. It echoed from the walls of Evenfall Hall and through her body.
“Then stop this.” Damn it. She didn't mean for her voice to sound so thin.
He made a step in her direction. She stepped back. He sighed and turned toward the sea. For a while, they listened to song of the sea.
“I dreamed of you”, Ser Jaime began, his voice so soft Brienne had to step closer to hear him over the sounds of the waves clashing against rocks. “Last night...I dreamed of a different life with you. It began in our first night...instead of me saying the words that made you hate me, we talked.” He rested his hands on the stone balustrade, smiling. “I made you laugh...this unique, earth-shattering laugh. My heart was captured and talking turned to flirting and we...became husband and wife...thrice.” He smirked at her, making her freeze and blush and look away. “You were my queen, my wife, my lover, my friend...and the mother of my children.”
“Ch-Children?”
Jaime's expression became soft, his eyes began to shine. “Twins. I saw them grow inside you, felt their kicks against my hand.” He looked at his right for a long moment, clenched it to a fist. “I was with you when they were born. Threatened the midwife when she wanted to throw me out, telling me I had no place at your birthing bed. I told her my place was beside you, always.” A chuckle rippled through the air. “So I stayed and let you curse me to the seven hells and back, had to swear to never lay another finger on you. I watched you suffer and fight like the queen you are to bring our moon cubs into this world...and held them in my arms.”
With wide eyes she watched as Ser Jaime pulled his arms against his chest, closing his eyes, fighting back tears.
“I want my children back. I want this life back.”
Straightening, Jaime turned and came towards her. Brienne walked backwards until she bumped against the cool stone wall.
“It was just a dream, Jaime”, she said almost panicky, stretching out a hand. Jaime pressed his chest against it, made her arm bend until it was wedged between their upper bodies.
“It wasn't”, he insisted. “It was the Maiden opening my eyes to the truth.”
“Wh-What truth?”
Jaime's face was mere inches away from hers. Her heart was racing inside her chest, her fingers curled into his doublet.
“That you are mine and I am yours”, he whispered, placing his hands on her hips, slowly brushing upwards, sending all kinds of shivers through her body.
“That all this misery was caused by my pride, in this one night that should have been the beginning of our love.”
Hardly able to breathe, Brienne's eyes filled with tears as Jaime cupped her cheek.
“I am sorry, Brienne. My love...forgive me. For wasting all these years...for saying these awful things.”
Now, the tears fell. Brienne pushed against his chest. He didn't budge. Instead he cupped her other cheek and brushed the tears away oh so tenderly.
“I was the most hated man in Westeros. Everyone naming me Kingslayer, no one believing me about the wildfire below the city. My father banished me from Casterly Rock, meant to punish me by marrying me to you, the lady of a minor house.”
“An ugly beast”, she sobbed, quoting him. Pain flickered across his face.
“Yes...I was frustrated, angry and hurt. I couldn't hurt my father, so I hurt you...the girl who deserved it the least. The girl who got stuck with an oathbreaker.”
She sniffed. “I just called you that after you insulted me.”
Jaime chuckled, wiping her cheeks again. “I know. You always give as good as you get. I deserved nothing less.”
“I thought it was the truth.”
“I know. I never tried to convince you otherwise. King's Landing had to burn to make people believe me.”
Before she knew it her hand curled around his wrist, stroking it. “You tried to tell them.”
He nodded, taking his hand away from her face to place hers on his cheek. Brienne sucked in a breath of air when he leaned into her touch. Never, not in all these five years had she touched anything else but his hand.
His skin was so warm and soft, neatly shaven. The heat of him warmed her hand; her entire body.
“I love you.”
Her heart stopped beating. Once again, she froze. These words...she had never thought she'd hear them...Especially not from him.
“You don't know me. It was a dream, Jaime.”
“Don't say that.” He pressed himself against her, burying his face in her neck. “I remember everything. How your skin smells...” he breathed her in soundly. “How it tastes...” Brienne gasped as she felt his tongue lick across her throat, sending a flash of lightning through her body. “How sweetly you blush when I'm inside of you...how you look at me...I want you to look at me like this again, Brienne.”
The heat of him, his mouth against her skin – it was too much. Again, she pushed.
“Don't. It wasn't real.”
“One kiss”, he pleaded, pushing against her hands, his eyes full of urgency. “Give me this one chance to get my children back. I want to hold little Rhaegynn and Elenei in my arms again...”
Brienne froze and looked at him with wide eyes. “Elenei?”
“Yes. Both of us named one of the girls.”
She looked at him for a long time, then she frowned, thinking. “Ever since I was a girl, I wanted to name my daughter Elenei”, she whispered.
“I didn't know that. You only told me that it was the name of the daughter of the God of the Sea and the Wind. I called her Ellie. You always scolded me when you heard.”
Jaime smiled, coming close again. Brienne's heart was hammering against her chest.
“I never told anyone...”, she whispered, her hands wandering up to fumble with his collar. “I certainly didn't tell you.”
Jaime gently stroked her hips, soaking up her warmth. She felt like she had in his dream. Tasted and smelled like it, too. Maiden be blessed.
“Jaime.”
He looked up at her call, his hands squeezing her soft hips.
“Is this a joke? As soon as I give in, will you laugh at my foolishness?”
A pang in his heart. This Brienne had every reason to distrust him. He had never been kind to her here. Had never swum with her in the ocean beneath the stars. Had never held her when she cried. Had never made her laugh with a bawdy joke whispered against her skin after they had made love.
So Jaime took her hand, pressing a kiss to her fingers.
“It is no joke. This I swear, by the old Gods and the new and our unborn daughters.”
Brienne looked at him, her eyes still full of doubt. But her big hands wandered up his throat to cup his cheeks.
“One kiss”, she whispered.
“One kiss”, he promised.
Her oh so blue eyes were shining. Jaime's heart skipped a beat. Oh, my love...
Stroking her warm cheek one more time and trying a sweet smile, he leaned in. His eyes fell close when his wife's breath hit his parted lips. And then...her ever so soft lips. Just like he had dreamed it. Soft and smooth like rose petals, just as red. When the pressure came, a shiver ran down his spine. With images of the Maiden's vision behind his eyes, he tasted Brienne's kiss. It was as magical as had been promised in his dreams. It felt right. It felt like more.
Pulling her against him, he licked across her bottom lip. She flinched, just like she had in this dreamed life the first time he had done it. He followed, capturing her lips once more, gently sucking on her bottom one. She let out such a sweet little noise that he chuckled against her lips. Of course this woke her resolve, so the queen of the Seven Kingdoms grabbed the hair in the nape of his neck and kissed him hard. Jaime moaned. She nipped at his lip. A flash down his front. Jaime now wrapped both arms around her and pushed his tongue into her mouth, teasing and licking hers until she was warm and yielding in his arms, clinging to him oh so sweetly.
This. This was the Brienne of his dreams. His queen. His wife. His sweet, hungry lover.
She let out a gasp when he finally set her mouth free. Her hands were clawed into his shoulders, her cheeks were an intense shade of pink.
“This morning I thought I'd never see you like this again”, he whispered, stroking her hot skin. “But here you are. My wife...my Brienne.”
Their eyes met. Hers shone with unshed tears, insecurity and...hope.
“Let's go inside and dance the night away”, Jaime whispered, a smile blooming on his face, his hands stroking up and down her sides. “Let this be our beginning, Brienne. Your birthday, what could be more perfect?”
For a long moment, she looked at him, her hands still on his face, her thumbs hesitantly stroking his cheeks. Then her cheeks turned a deep shade of red. His smile turned into a smirk.
“Or we can go straight to bed and work on our daughters, if you prefer.”
She gasped and pushed him away. Jaime laughed, caught her hand and pulled her into his embrace.
“Let me go, you lecherous man”, she complained, struggling.
“You thought it first. Don't pretend with me, I know all your blushes. You want me, my queen!”
“I do not!” she insisted, trying to shove him away again. Gods, she was strong as an ox. He could barely hold her. He felt himself stir in his breeches. Chuckling, he roughly pulled her to him, his mouth pressed against her neck, her thigh pressed against his cock.
“Keep it up, wife. I enjoy a good fight before bed.”
The instant she felt him hard against her, she froze. In disbelief did she look at him. Jaime merely smiled and pressed a gentle kiss on her lips.
“Dancing or sparing. You choose, my queen. I'll be happy to serve you.”
With another kiss, he loosened his hold on her, stroking her back, waiting for her decision. The red crept back into her cheeks.
“D-Dancing”, she chose. Jaime smiled knowingly and gave her a kiss.
“Dancing it is, my love.”
Taking her hand, he pulled her back inside, hurried her through the hallways straight onto the dance floor. The court watched in stunned silence as the queen of the Seven Kingdoms danced with her consort, him looking up at her with such reverence. Three dances in, they heard her grace's laugh for the very first time. It echoed from the high, historic walls, announcing a new era of her reign. From this day forward, the queen would bloom right in front of their eyes, her consort's boundless love making her happier than ever, his counsel making her – to some lords' dismay – smarter and wiser. Soon her belly swelled with children once, twice and a third time, securing her reign with two princesses and two princes, each of them having their father's beauty and their mother's strength.
Evenfall Hall, which had been the seat of reign for five years, a prison for the kingslayer Jaime Lannister and a place of misery for Brienne of Tarth, became a home to both of them, filled with love and the laughter of children, their lives blessed by the Maiden herself.