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Brienne strolled through the halls of the Red Keep. Her boots sounded sharp and sure, more than her heart felt. She only knew the way as she had asked Podrick directions. Dust rose from her blue armor and Oathkeeper clanged at her hip. She peeled off her gloves. At least it was only chill here at King's Landing. Her right hand clenched around the message hand delivered her by Lannister men from Jaime. He'd written it himself in a jagged hand.
Her footfall echoed louder in the great hall of the throne room. She stilled only a moment to glance at the Iron Throne and did not pause at whatever pasts the room held or her thoughts about them.
Voices sounded from the Small Counsel room and Brienne followed them. Cersei's spoke, her voice raised in distress. A foreigner, perhaps with the accent of Dorne, said something to quiet the Queen Regent. Brienne pulled up and slowed. In her hast to get to Jaime she had not thought that perhaps she would not be welcome here.
Brienne tucked the crumbled and well read message into her belt. Jaime's crooked writing had been short. Come to King's Landing and marry him. While he had worded it nicer, that was the short of it. Part of her wondered what games the Lannisters might be playing, the rest of her, very in love with Jaime, wished there was no deception to his words.
Eyes turned to her as she neared. She paused, unsure of how to continue.
Jaime smiled brightly and said, “Lady Brienne of Tarth come.” He gestured her forward. “We've finished for the day.”
The other men around the table nodded, some with frowns. But papers gathered in arms, they rose and filed out.
“You could have rested before finding me.” Jaime gathered his own papers. He wore a red jerkin with a lion on his right breast. His sword hung on his hip still, and the gold Hand of the King had been attached to his left breast.
“Yes,” Brienne managed.
Cersei, the last to leave, pulled up beside Brienne. The Queen Regent looked older, harrowed by what the High Sparrow had done. Her beautiful blonde curls had been sheered off leaving behind strands cut even closer than Brienne's own.
“It is good to see you again Lady Brienne.” Cersei's voice held all the grace it always had.
Brienne made sure to look only into the other woman's eyes, green like her brother's, and ignored her hair. She tried to look less an ugly giant gazing down at the still stunning Queen Regent. “And you too, your Grace.” Brienne dipped her head and gave a small bow. She felt only wariness towards the other woman.
Cersei stared back, her lips held in a tight pout. Brienne did not know what else to say. Then, she noticed Jaime beside them. He clasped Brienne on her shoulder.
“It is so good to see you.” He gave an even brighter smile. He held a pile of papers against his breast with his right golden hand.
“And you.” Brienne found her face hardened though.
“Do I not get even a smile, dear Lady.” His lips smirked but the joy did not reach his voice.
“I do not have an answer for you,” Brienne said instead.
“I didn't ask for an answer.” He frowned. “I asked for a smile.”
Brienne glanced back at Cersei still standing there watching with her pouted face. Jaime gave an exasperated sigh. She did not have time to reply before he turned her with his one hand and took her into an awkward one-handed hug, her armor and his papers between them.
When he released her, Brienne did return a small smile. “It is very good to see you again, Jaime.”
It was Jaime who looked to Cersei standing beside them still.
“You're a fool, Jaime.” Her voice held more ice than even her eyes.
“I have always been a fool.” He smirked at her. “You used to like me as such.” He leaned closer and leered at her.
Brienne watched them before her, anger on Jaime's face, ice on Cersei's. She was not sure she'd ever seen Jaime and Cersei so physically close to each other. She could see now the shared relation, the ease they had as twins.
Cersei spun to turn away from them both and strolled out of the counsel room. “Go ahead and ask your devoted.... 'lady' to marry you, dear brother, but do not think your heirs will be welcomed as Lannisters.” Her voice echoed as she exited.
Jaime surged forward with anger and stepped to Brienne's other side as if he would follow. Brienne held him back.
“Worst has been said to me before,” Brienne quietly said.
Jaime's eyes blazed when he turned to her. He let out a shaky breath and then rested his forehead on hers. Brienne thought for a moment he might shift and kiss her. He had asked marriage. Instead, he stepped back, sighed and said, “Come. I have food waiting in my quarters for you.”
The food was actually simple: bread, cheese and wine. It made her wonder how much the hardship of winter may have already settled into the city. She ate a few pieces and sat gingerly on the ornate chair Jaime had offered her.
“Shall we catch up first, or talk of my request?” Jaime lounged in his chair and plucked a piece of cheese from the platter between them. She saw the nervousness in what he wished to appear as indifference.
Brienne took a bite of bread, freshly made, and frowned. “I do not have an answer for you.”
“You said. I didn't...” Jaime shrugged. “I assumed that would be the case, if you even came.”
“Why?” Brienne asked, her voice shook less than she thought it might. Jaime cocked his head, and furrowed his brow. “Why did you ask?”
Jaime leaned back. “Do you want the short version or the long?”
“The full version.” Brienne narrowed her eyes on him.
Jaime instead chuckled. Brienne cocked her head in annoyance. “I forgot how exact you could be,” he said.
Jaime dipped his head. “The full version, my Lady. I'm the Hand now, have denounced the Kingsguard and can take a wife. My father is dead and I need an heir, a rightful one.”
“Surely there are plenty daughters of lords and lesser lords which could fulfill such for you.” Brienne tried to keep her growing distress from her face.
Jaime nodded. “Plenty, and they'd be pretty and sweet enough. I could manage making a few heirs with them, sure.”
“But?” Brienne found herself leaning forward.
“I asked you, Brienne.” He frowned.
“Why?”
“Have you seen this place?” He swept a hand out to the room. “It's a pit of voles. I need someone beside me I can trust, fully.”
“Trust?” Now her voice did crack.
Jaime frowned and surged forward, his hands on his knees. “Because when I realized I must marry, the only name that came to mind, besides my dear sister who never wanted me as such, was you Brienne.”
“Because you trust me?” Brienne found herself holding her breath, preparing for the worst.
Jaime leaned in closer, his face almost across the table. “By seven hell's, wench, because I love you. Okay, I love you. Took me long enough to figure it out; it's so different than loving Cersei. But I love you, and if I have to marry, I want it to be for love.”
Brienne's heart hammered in her chest. “I love you too, but you already knew that.”
“I did.” Jaime returned to his seat. “Did you not... know...”
“Why would I?”
Jaime dipped his gaze. “You would not, true.”
“And it is not as simple as you state.” She remembered what she had just seen between him and Cersei. “I will not be a tool between you and your sister.”
“Let me worry of my sister.”
Brienne cocked an eyebrow. “You do not love her still?”
Jaime sighed and frowned. “I do love her.” He lowered his eyes. “She confessed to adultery with my cousin Lancel. Though, I know there were others who warmed her bed in my absence.” Brienne remained silent and let him continue. “Only her, Brienne, it was always only her. How foolish I was.”
“She knows what you have asked?” Brienne kept her voice from cracking.
Jaime nodded. “Yes. Called you an ugly beast of a woman. She will not be doing that again.” Anger and violence flashed in his eyes, and Brienne did not ask what threat he had made against his own sister for her having said what so many others had before her.
“Since we returned from the North, have you slept with her?” This Brienne's voice did crack asking.
Jaime frowned and dipped his head. “The once.” He let out a shaky breath and surprised Brienne by continuing, “Rough and quick in the Sept of Balor as our son laid dead above.”
Brienne was thankful that his dipped head meant he did not see her shock at that. What he had with Cersei would never be fully broken. Could she live with that?
“Do not do this and then return to her to break my heart.” Her voice quivered as much as her lips and hands.
It pulled Jaime's eyes back up to her. He moved closer and took her hand. “I would never do anything to harm you.”
“You would never mean to harm me.” It was not the same thing.
He frowned. “Yes, I have said.. many rather hurtful things to you. But have my actions hurt you?”
Brienne kept her face solid. “You saved me.” He had, many times. He had saved her maidenhood, saved her life. Most of all he had shown her the world was made of grays not the white and black of her youth.
“You gave me reason to keep living, Brienne.” Jaime ran his hand through his hair, now peppered with gray. “I do not know why you think I am a good man, but you make me want to be the man you think me. Instead of the tool Cersei had me be.”
“If we have heirs one will go to Tarth,” Brienne found herself saying.
“As one should.” He leaned back a smile gracing his lips.
Brienne frowned, because this did not mean she was agreeing yet. “Our daughters will be wed to good men who will treat them well, even if it is not the best political choice.”
Jaime shrugged. “Or wed for love, or not wed at all if they desire.” He nodded his head to agree.
“My father will agree to this,” she said.
“I'll send a raven for his permission.”
“In person,” Brienne added.
“Will he agree?” Jaime frowned. Brienne did not answer because she was not sure her father would agree. “I'll send a raven with an invitation.”
Brienne nodded. “I will not wear some ghastly gown.”
“No, you will wear a beautiful gown, or armor if you wish.”
Brienne narrowed her eyes. She had never even considered wearing armor. “I will wear a sword,”
she said before she thought against it. What woman wore a sword at her own wedding?
“Of course.” Jaime chuckled. “Oathkeeper should be wore, and it looks so much better on your hips.”
It looked as well or better on him, but Brienne could argue that later. “I will not be left at a keep to only bear your children,” she said. Because was that not what her life after marriage would be, children and upkeep of a house?
Jaime scrunched up his face. “Whyever would I waste you such, dear Lady? Have you seen the state of the world lately? I mean to have you beside, with a sword in hand if need be.”
“Even after children?”
“Why not?” Jaime shrugged.
Brienne did not know how that would work, children -- their children -- in a distant camp in winter. But Jaime never carried for rules, that much she already knew. If anyone could find a way to make it work, he could. He'd fallen in love with her as a warrior and accepted her as such. She would not find another man to do so, and to love her as well.
“So are we agreed?” Jaime asked.
“Well, you still need my father's permission...”
Jaime laughed at her, then paused, cocked his head. “Have I ever even given you a proper kiss?”
Brienne stilled. The answer was clearly no, as he knew, but she could not manage to get the words past her lips. Jaime didn't wait for her, instead he surged forward and knelt before her. Had she been a normal woman, Jaime's face would have been only slightly lower than hers seated. But, Brienne had never been a normal woman. Jaime rose enough to place one knee beside her thigh on her chair. Before she commented on how ridiculous he must look, Jaime leaned forward and placed his lips on hers.
The kiss was awkward at first, her still in her armor and Jaime at a weird angle. Then he deepened it. Brienne grew more confident, perhaps he did as well. His lips were rougher than she'd thought them, yet as urgent as she'd imagined. Her tongue flicked his lip. Jaime opened his mouth and angled his head. She slipped her tongue between his lips and he did the same to her. This was better. Heat bubbled in her stomach and Brienne reached out to grip his hair and hold him to her.
Jaime was the one to finally break away, holding himself up on his arms on either side of her. They were both breathless. His eyes were dilated, and Brienne finally recognized the look as lustful.
“I will not be giving away my maidenhood until our vows are said.” She voiced her request harsher than she meant. She found it hard to not imagine where a kiss like that could lead, to not want him to take her there.
Jaime only laughed and dipped his head into the crock of her neck. Brienne frowned when he raised his head.
“I've waited this long to kiss you, wench,” he said before she could berate him for laughing. “I can wait for the rest until the actual wedding night.”
“Good,” she finally managed.
“Kissing is allowed though?” He smirked.
Brienne simply reached out to him and kissed the smirk off his lips. This kiss held more passion and lust. It lingered longer; their lips melding together better. Jaime finally pulled himself away and actually stood up this time.
“We should stop before I can't resist throwing you on that bed and taking you.” Jaime finally managed to say, still breathless.
Brienne could not say she didn't like the idea of him doing just that, treating her as any other maiden. But she let him back away further. It made her trust the rest of his words that he wished to honor her desires to wait.
Jaime sat down again. “Now should we catch up? I can tell you about Myrcella and Tommen.” His voice held aching at the mention of his children. His daughter she had already heard was now dead.
“And I can tell you about Stannis and Sansa.” Brienne hoped her own words did not hold pain as well. In her revenge of Renly, she had let down her oath to Lady Catelyn. Perhaps Jaime was right and the right decision was always going to be wrong in some way. Was life always choosing which oaths to keep and which to break?
“You can begin,” Brienne said. She doubted the pained look on Jaime's face would be lessened until he told her about his children, children he shared with Cersei. Another reason her life with Jaime would always include his sister. What was she getting herself into by marrying him, and was her love and devotion to him worth that price?
#
Lord Selwyn Tarth was a tall man, a few inches taller than even his daughter, almost a head taller than Jaime. He folded his long, lean figure into a chair across from Jaime. Lord Selwyn's hair now half gray had surely once been the same plain blonde of his daughter. The color remained in his full beard. He was not such an old man, likely only one and a half decades older than Jaime himself.
The blue eyes, not the same brilliant color of his daughter's, judged Jaime. “You have heard what I ask of your daughter?” Jaime kept his face steady, his voice more so. He had not thought he would find this as much a hardship as it already seemed. What would he do if Lord Selwyn did deny Jaime his daughter?
“I have,” Selwyn said. “And her offered terms for the match. I can't say I much like the Lannister house, though I mean no offense by that.”
Jaime smiled. “Knowing even more of the Lannisters than you, I don't blame you.”
Selwyn cocked his head at that, not expecting the reply. “You are the head of the house, correct?”
Jaime shrugged. “I suppose. Though my Uncle Kevan still rules at Casterly Rock in my stead. But it is not me being a Lannister that worries you about the union.”
“No.” Selwyn frowned, a look such like Brienne. “Kingslayer, oathbreaker,” he said.
“You forgot sister fucker.” Jaime's face was solid. He had traveled enough through the kingdoms to know the term was now used as much with his name as Kingslayer. “All true.” Perhaps this torture would be over quicker if he just got to the center of it.
“Then why would I think such a man worthy of my daughter?” Selwyn narrowed his eyes. Perhaps there was a threat in them that Jaime should mention how few had seen his daughter even as worthy of that.
“She thinks I'm worthy.” Jaime answered. “But I may have charmed her. We both know she's more a maiden able to be charmed that most people judge her.”
“She thinks you're a good man.” Selwyn tightened his lips.
“I really do not know why.” Jaime lightly shook his head and leaned back in his chair. “Because I am not a good man. But she makes me want to be the good man she thinks of me.”
“She has a good heart,” Selwyn said. “I will not see it hurt.”
“No, you would not” Jaime answered. “Otherwise you would have already found a man for her to marry. Not that you may take my word, but I do not wish her heart hurt either.”
“Perhaps you do care for her.” Selwyn cocked his head. “She has told me how you saved her life.”
“She did the same for me.” Jaime nodded. “I also protected her maidenhood. She has it still, if only for her stubbornness.”
Selwyn leaned back as well and narrowed his eyes.
“And now,” Jaime continued, “you're wondering why the man who has such low values and would fuck his sister has not already done so with your daughter? Do I really like you daughter as such? Perhaps it's just Lannisters I prefer.”
“Yes,” came the terse reply.
Jaime waved his hand in the air. “I really do wish to fuck Brienne.” Good and royal and rotten he left out, she was after all the man's daughter. “But I love her enough to let her be stubborn and keep her precious maidenhood until we say vows.”
They sat in silence for a bit, and Jaime wondered if he had said too much, been too lewd.
“A father always thinks his daughter beautiful,” Lord Selwyn finally said. Jaime nodded, although his own daughter had been gorgeous he knew well about thinking well of your children. “I know in truth, she is rather....”
“Plain, would be the polite way to say it.” Jaime finished.
“Many are not so polite.” Selwyn frowned.
“Yes.” Jaime frowned himself. How many times in the last fortnight has he wanted to strike people because they mentioned him marrying an ugly beast. “She's large, which people can't get over. And whenever she does wear the fine clothing typical a woman her awkwardness only makes her seem worse. Yet, there is a beauty to her. Her eyes are the most gorgeous I've seen. And when she is confident in herself she's radiate. Out of silly walls such as these, a sword in her hand and an oath to keep Brienne's a creature of true beauty and honor. And her body certainly has all the curves and needs of a man.” Jaime paused, thinking of the one time he had seen her fully.
He looked up to see Selwyn eying him harshly. Jaime raised his hands. “It was just the once, and a mistake, and I did nothing to harm her honor.” Not that half dead he could have. “The point is she's not at all as ugly as people think her. Brienne is just beautiful in a way that woman are not, and so no one takes her as such.”
Selwyn regarded Jaime for a long time. “You do really love you,” he finally spoke, his deep voice quiet.
Jaime nodded and shrugged. “I do; really and truly I do love her.”
Selwyn leaned back. “That at least is support in your favor.” He pinched together his lips. “What of your sister, the Queen Regent?”
“Must you ask?” Jaime did not wait for Selwyn to voice his reply. “Yes, my sister has been my lover, the only not that anyone cares of such, and while I love her still... she is not my lover anymore. Which is a long and complicated tale, but she is not.”
“And it will remain as such?”
Jaime sighed and found himself saying before he thought, “She would not take me back if I begged.” He hated to admit it, but Brienne had been his second choice. Would he have chosen her if Cersei had taken him back?
“And the Queen Regent's children?” Selwyn asked, face still hardened.
Jaime nodded. “All mine. But, two are dead and the one who lives is a bastard if he ever acknowledges me. Your daughter's children will be my heirs. Your eldest grandson will rule Casterly Rock, the next Tarth.”
“If you are so blessed.” Selwyn tightened his lips. He himself had not been.
“Hopefully we are,” Jaime replied. “I would hate her to suffer. Losing a child is...” Jaime's voice ended in a strangle, because it was gutting in a way he had only ever spoke of with Brienne herself.
“Yes.” Selwyn studied Jaime, perhaps wrapping his mind around the complicated man his possible good son was. “Who would rule Tarth if my death comes before my grandson comes of age?”
“Brienne, of course” Jaime cocked his head. “She's your rightful and only heir. Maybe we'll just go to Tarth were that to happen. Your sapphire isle is much more beautiful than Casterly Rock. We could live the damned place to the rest of the Lannisters, my Uncle Kevan and Cersei would both like such.”
Selwyn nodded. Perhaps happy that Jaime did not marry his daughter just for Tarth.
Jaime leaned forward. “The truth dear Lord Selwyn is I love your daughter as she is, I mean to do right by her and whatever children she bears me. Could you find better for your dear daughter?”
Selwyn shook his head. “I allowed her to go off to war with Renly Baratheon because I could not find a husband to make her happy. I am unsure of you Jaime Lannister, but you are right, I could not do better for her.” He cocked his head. “Did she best you in a swordfight?”
“Ah,” Jaime lifted his right golden hand. “Today, she could. Before I lost my hand we only fought the once.”
“Did she best you?” Selwyn asked.
Jaime had spent months chained to a post, barely feed and wasting away them. Perhaps she would not have had that not been the case.
“She did.” Selwyn said. A smile tweaked at his thick lips.
Jaime nodded. “As it was, yes, she did.” Selwyn said nothing else. “I take you give your permission?”
“Have you not done this before?” Selwyn asked.
“Do high lords usually?” Jaime asked. It was better than the other words he could have worded, that the only other time he would have married, he would have made certain not to ask her father as the man was also his father.
“No.” Selwyn gave bowed his head. “But I do grant her permission. Do her wrong... I don't care what important man you might think yourself, I will have your head.”
'You and so many others,' Jaime almost said. Instead he bowed his head as well. “It's yours to take if I do.”
#
Brienne did not much like court life. She had gotten marginally better at it, but at best it grated and at worse she was horrible and ugly at it. Swordfight though... She had been sparring with a few of the Kingsguard. Jaime himself did not do so anymore. She knew he would be able to hold his own, perhaps even among these men, but he had a reputation and it was better not displayed to be tarnished.
She bent over to help up her partner. Why the men sparred with her Brienne was not certain. Either they wished to have a true estimate of her abilities, or they actually liked seeing what the Kingslayer's beast of a woman could do with a sword, she did not know.
Brienne joined Jaime at a fence in the outer reaches of the practice ring. Her chest heaved from her actions, sweat pooled under her winter clothing.
“A beauty of a sight.” Jaime leaned in to whisper the words so only her ear heard them over the clanging of swords.
“Love has made you a fool.” Brienne frowned. She knew her hair looked a mess from being under her helmet, her cheeks would be red, her brow sweaty and her nostrils flaring to draw in breath.
“Always.” Jaime smiled at her. “Have you heard? Your father has granted his consent.”
Brienne nodded. “I have.” She had not been certain, her father would do so. But she knew she needed his council to make sure perhaps she had not missed something and was making a fool of herself and her father with her actions. “He thinks you a lewd man with a sharp tongue.”
Jaime dipped his head. “Then my impression was better than I thought it might be.”
“Children?” she breathed. The thought finally striking her that beyond love and vows was bedding and children.
“That's part of the point of a union, correct? Heirs.” Jaime turned to her.
“Yes.” She watched the swordfight for a few minutes. “What would my children be like?” Would they be ugly beasts that men only took interest in as an oddity?
“Our children will be tall, strong and golden,” he spoke softer then she thought he might.
“Even the girls?” Brienne frowned.
“Nothing wrong with tall, strong women.” He knocked her shoulder with his and smiled at her. “Besides they would be gorgeous, tall and strong. I have more than enough good looks for us both.”
“Perhaps.” Brienne was certain that was not how it truly worked.
Jaime laughed. “Tywin would have wished us only sons, mountains of muscle with golden manes and a natural instinct for swordfighting.”
Brienne eyed him. She knew despite his laugh his father's words have cut him. “Perhaps we should wish for only boys.” Because they would be tall and strong, and yes very likely great swordsmen.
“Girls, I think I'd like girls, strong, beautiful ones that will hold their own with any men who eventually win them.” Jaime's eyes held something Brienne did not recognize, hope for a future together perhaps?
“Would you give them sword?” Brienne asked.
Jaime leaned in and smirked. “Most certainly. Better to hold their own with.” He wrapped an arm around her waist still clad in armor. He leaned in a whispered into her ear. “You need not worry, Brienne. Together we will make beautiful children, whether boy or girl.” He kissed her cheek and Brienne could not help leaning into him and hoping he was correct.