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Chapter Text

****---***

Brienne inhales a little more deeply as the ocean breeze caresses her face like a lover's hand. The salt in the air causes her heart to lift and her eyes to close. She's home. It never ceases to amaze her how at peace she can feel standing on the sand with the waves lapping at her feet. Like she did so many times in her youth when her septa made her feel like she was the ugliest girl alive or when others mocked her for wanting to be a knight instead of a lady. After all the pain and struggle, it's a balm to her battered soul. She wishes she could dive under the water, swim away from all her doubts in the tempered seas. Away from her thoughts, away from her heartbreak. Let the water cleanse her mind. It would be the perfect ending to a stressful day of leading her small island and of watching her father slowly pass.

She never wanted to be a leader. She didn't have the stomach for politics or the patience for small disagreements. She loves her home land though, she loves the people, even the unkind ones, and with her father being so ill, she puts aside her own reservations and takes her rightful place.

Years spent away from this island leaves her feeling unbalanced when she takes her first steps toward being the Evenstar. Gods it's still hard to believe she could be looked at with that title. Lord Selwyn, her strong father, that's the leader Tarth needs always. She's a poor substitute. Brienne knows this every time a new problem arises and her first instinct is to grab her sword and run back to the North. She's a fighter. She always has been.

Fighting wights seems so easy compared to listening to two Lords quarrel over land rights. Give her a battle with swords any day. She can handle that with confidence. She knows how to sway and dance with a blade, with death inches from her grasp. Jaime once told her it was the song of steel in her blood that made her such a talented fighter. He wasn't wrong then and he isn't wrong now. Her hand grazes the hilt of Oathkeeper resting on her hip. It's an unconscious gesture. She does it when he enters her thoughts. Which is often. Too often.

Brienne lowers her head, kicking at the water. She needs to get back, others are waiting for her. Responsibilities are waiting for her. She takes one last look at the sun's rays making the blue sea shine before turning around and heading up toward Evenfall. Her steps slow when she catches a movement out of the corner of her eyes. It takes her but a moment to recognize the body traveling in her direction and she breathes out a sigh, heading to meet them half way.

“I'm sorry to disturb you, Ser,” Pod says once they are close enough.

“You didn't,” she smiles at her squire. “I was actually heading back up now.”

They walk along the beach together, comfortable in their silence. Since she returned to Tarth with him, Pod has been her constant companion. He has listened to her fears and held her in her moments of weakness. She can't thank him enough and knows she would be a wreck, an even bigger wreck, without him. Brienne often worries she's holding him back. Pod shouldn't be worrying about her. He should be off having adventures. He should be a knight by now. He has earned the title, through battle and loyalty. She makes a quiet promise to herself that she will see him get knighted. She will do for him what Jaime did for her.

“Have you decided what you are going to do about Lord Mydell's grievance,” he says as they climb the old cracked stone steps.

Brienne's mouth twists, “It's a silly claim, isn't it?” She sighs knowing she shouldn't say those things a loud, but also knowing that Pod would never break her trust. “I have not decided yet. I can see his point even if I think the whole thing wasteful.”

“His land was one that was heavily damaged during the raid,” Pod responds. “I think fear has made him act out in haste. He wants security.”

“Yes,” she nods. “As I said I get his reasons for demanding our assistance. And I will assist him in a way I see fit, but the...” Brienne's forehead wrinkles in frustration, “I don't have the mind for this.” She says the words into the wind, but knows Pod hears them. She's expressed her uncertainty enough times to him that he isn't even phased by them any longer.

“You are always so hard on yourself, ser,” He insists. “I think you are doing a fine job and your people seem to agree. When I walk through the country side I see only contentment.”

She smiles at him, “Thank you, Podrick.”

Brienne takes a deep breath, set her shoulders back once they enter the archway of her home. She sees Pod stand up a little straighter in response and she suddenly feels some of the weight lift from shoulders. It's so nice knowing no matter what he had her back and she could count on him to always be there.

***---***

Her afternoon passes slowly. Smaller lords come and go. Preparations for spring are starting. Ports are filling up with boats and goods and Brienne is bored with it all. Her hand itches with the need to swing her sword. Her legs feel restless after sitting so long and her eyes were blurring from all the papers that were shoved in her face. She raises from her chair in her father's solar and walks toward the large window that overlooks the courtyard.

Young men were practicing in the yard below and she longs to be out there with them. The new master at arms, Ser Carlon, a tall man with light brown hair and kind brown eyes, only a few years older than her, pauses a duo and corrects their posture as she watches. Brienne is pleased when she sees the way the boys immediately take to the instructions. Their swings become more smooth and their footing sure. One of the first tasks she had when she arrived was finding a competent instructor for the young men on her island. Her first thought had been to give the job to Pod. She trusted him and knew how he would teach since she was the one that taught him, but in the end she was talked out of it by the young man himself.

'Ser,' he stares at her with eyes shining brightly, 'That would be a huge honor but I'm not a knight and I still have much to learn myself.'

'We all have much to learn,' she replies but tipped her head in acceptance, 'however if you don't feel ready to do it, I understand.' She places a hand on his shoulder squeezing once. 'Still Pod you should know that you would be a great master at arms. Those that fought in the war against the dead learned much from you.'

His blush at that rivals some of her most intense ones. He hesitates only a second before he throws his arms around her. She awkwardly pats his back until he finally lets her go, grinning broadly at her. His reaction leaves Brienne feeling like she single handedly conquered the seven kingdoms.

She rests her head against the stone work mentally going through the stances with the kids. Left, swing, parry, retreat, advance, turn, bend, start again. Her eyes shift to the sword next to her. She could feel the weight in her palm even with it resting against the wall beside her. The Valyrian steel is like a extension of her arm. She feels incomplete without it on her. Brienne almost feels naked now with it only a few feet from her. She turns back toward the practice yards, sighing.

'After supper, she thinks. I'll go down there and work out this restlessness.

“My sweetling, you look any harder toward the grounds I might fear you jumping out that window to join them,” she turns from the glass and faces her father. It pains her to see him like this. His once large body weakened by illness. His handsome face sunken in and more wrinkled because of the trials he had to face alone while she went off to live her dream of being a knight. His sun kissed hair now more gray than honey blonde. His shoulders were hunched, his bones tired. Her stomach clenches. She should have stayed behind and married. Maybe then he wouldn't look so much older than his four and sixty. He leans heavily on a cane made from twisted dark wood that was sturdy enough to support his weight. The only parts of him that hadn't changed were his eyes and his smile. His eyes shone with love and twinkle with happiness as they look upon her and his smile is soft and wide. She always feels like a princess in his presence. Brienne feels like she's the one that captured the moon and had given him the sun to hang on their house sigil. “How was your day?”

She ignores his question and walks over to him, “You should be in bed.”

Her words are waved off with a flick of his wrist. “If I sit in that blasted bed one more moment, I'll end this misery myself.” She glares at him and he shrugs. “Where do you think you get your wanderlust from my child? It was your mother than tamed me.” His laugh rumbles from his chest a second before a coughing fit starts. His voice wheezes as he continues, “I knew you would follow me.” Selwyn's large hand cups her cheek. “You were always much more than this tiny island in the sea could contain.”

Brienne leans her face into his hand. She feels small for the first time in so long. Even at this stage in his sickness he still towers over her. His shadow envelopes hers on the floor in a way that gives her the notion of being completely protected.

“I'm home now.”

His expression turns sad. “Yes you are but you shouldn't be.”

“That's not,” she starts only to be interrupted by her father.

“Brienne,” he walks around her and sits on one of the large chairs that reside in the corner of the room, “I'm not foolish. I know you were happy where you were, until you weren't,” Selwyn gestures to the seat across from him. Brienne slowly lowers her body to the cushion and clasps her hands tightly together, uncomfortable with the knowing look in his eyes. “I know you, my sweetling, and I know you have been hurt. Your eyes have always given you away.”

She thinks about arguing. She thinks about denying the truth but could never really lie to him. Even when she was young and thought she was being so sneaky going to the armory under the light of the moon, he knew. It was later she realized it wasn't her luck or stealth skill that made it so easy for her to get to the tourney swords, but her father telling the master at arms to keep them in reach of her small hands. Brienne takes his hands in hers and smiles as bright as she can with her heart still broken.

“I am not unhappy, father,” she fights the tears, keeping her lashes low so he can't see the half truth. She wasn't unhappy, she just knows what bliss feels like when in the arms of a man she loves so much it borders on madness and now nothing will compare to that. “I am just worried about you and not making you proud of me. What if I am the worst Evenstar in generations? What if I fail our people? I am already falling short by not being married and not giving you heirs.”

The warmth in his eyes could melt the Night King were he still around. The sun wishes it could be as generous with it's rays as her father is with his love. “You, my sweetling, could never fail me. You are doing better than I did when I took over from your grand father.” He leans forward and kisses her forehead. Brienne's eyelids fall close. “Trust yourself, my precious daughter. Your heart will never lead you astray.”

She wants to wince at that. Her mind conjuring images of Jaime's body over hers, his hand sliding down her side as he moved within her. His green eyes holding her gaze hostage. His lips pulling her small moans from her. His words telling her she's so perfect and that he's wanted her for so long. She believed him then. Part of her still wishes she could believe him now. Her heart has already led her very astray.

“I am not so sure about that,” she answers.

Her father watches her and she turns away from the intensity.

“I guess,” he gently grabs her chin and forces her to look back at him, “I will have to be sure enough for the both of us.”

***---***

The moon is high in the sky when she finally frees herself enough to make it to the practice yard. She takes a tourney sword from the wall, twisting her wrist to test the weight and balance. It makes her smile. Brienne tilts her neck side to side, cracking it as she moves toward the dummy. The first swing of the metal whistles through the air, landing on the shoulder of the straw form.

It's liberating to dance with the steel in her hand. No one would ever accuse her of being graceful in her every day life, but with a blade, no could deny that her moves were smooth. Sweat rolls down her cheeks, settles in the small of her back, makes her clothes cling to her skin. She almost grins now. This is her element. This is where she's at her best. Time slips away from her until she stops and notices the moon is no longer where it was when she started. The pale globe is falling slowly to the west and she knows she will have to stop soon. The morning brings with it more responsibilities and she can't stay in this place forever.

“I had heard about that deadly lady knight in my travels, you are even more impressive in person than in the stories,” she jumps at the voice, spinning around toward the sound. Ser Carlon smiles sheepishly, “Sorry I didn't mean to frighten you.”

Her heart settles and tries to smile through her unease, she's positive her lips fall into a grimace instead. “I can only imagine the stories told about me and I am most assured they did not speak kindly about me.”

He pushes from his spot against the wall, “You would be surprised about how favorably they paint you.”

“I am sure they lie then,” her lips turn down even further, no longer a grimace but a frown, “Might even possibly say I am pretty as well.”

“No,” he shakes his head. “The stories never speak of your beauty,” she can't tell if she's relieved by that or saddened that even in tales she's ugly. “They only talk about how you are brave and strong and are taller than any man that dares to step up to challenge you.”

“Oh good,” she walks away from him and places the sword back in it's proper place. “I'm so glad they talk about how much of a freak I am.”

“I do not recall saying anything about you being a freak.” She chooses not to respond. Ser Carlon comes to her side and smiles at her. “I would love to spar with you some time.”

He enters her space, close but not touching. She backs away uncomfortable. “Maybe one day we will, Ser Carlon.” Her steps quicken and she calls over her shoulder, “Sleep well.”

“You as well, Ser Brienne,” he replies to her retreating form.

***---***

Before she knows it, Brienne has settled into a neat routine. Counsel meetings in the mornings, break for lunch with Podrick, visit with her father in his study, tour the island or the ports in the afternoons, train under the moon, sometimes by herself, sometimes with Pod. Ser Carlon watches her, his presence becomes just another fixture in her day.

It's after a few moon turns that she starts to realize she enjoys his company and starts seeking him out during the day. When she has a break, she'll make her way down to the practice field and watch as he teaches the young boys. Occasionally she'll join him in correcting a swing, other times she's just content to observe with Podrick at her side.

“Ser Carlon seems nice,” Pod comments while they sit in the waning sunlight one late afternoon.

“He is,” Brienne narrows her eyes, the hairs on the back of her neck standing up. “Why are you bringing up this observation?”

He shrugs, “No reason.”

“Hmm.” Her suspicious mind turns the words and his cool tone over and over. She forces herself to stop when the spinning thoughts get her no where. Suddenly she turns to her squire, “Pod?”

“Yes, ser.”

“You have been very loyal to me...”

“Yes ser,” his voice is soft and hesitant. “You are my knight.”

Brienne tries to form the words in her mind, but each time they sound wrong and she doesn't want him to not understand what she is about to say. “I,” she licks her lips, “I'm grateful that you are here, but I don't want you to feel like you have to be. Pod I would understand if you wish to leave and explore the world beyond this tiny rock in the sea.”

Pod looks shocked, then hurt and finally sad, “I wish to stay here, ser. I wish to learn from you. Unless, of course, you don't want me to...”

“I want you here,” she whispers to him. “I just did not want you to feel like you couldn't leave if you found yourself desiring to.”

“I will remember that.”

“See you do.”

***---***

The day a large ship she doesn't recognize arrives, Brienne is concerned. Usually the ports are bustling with smaller fishing boats and some traders from Bravos, but rarely - if ever - do ships this massive come to her island without notice. She makes her way down the docks to greet the men as they exit.

Her steps falter when she see a small body waddle down the gangplank. She glances up at the other men departing the vessel, fear at seeing him again causes her palms to sweat and her knees to feel weak. She doesn't believe for a moment Tyrion Lannister would come to her island on a whim without his older sibling in tow and that thought almost causes her to run. She doesn't believe anyone has seen her yet. She might still have a chance to return to the safety of Evenfall.

That hope dies as soon as Tyrion calls out, “Ser Brienne.”

She swallows and forces her feet to continue their forward motion toward the imp. So far Jaime has not appeared before her. She tells herself it's not disappointment she feels, but relief. “Lord Tyrion,” she greets. “This is a surprise. What brings you to Tarth?”

“I've heard so many wonderful things about your home,” he grins at her. She isn't sure if the smile is one of genuine happiness or of shrewd calculation. With Tyrion it is sometimes hard to tell. “I also missed my former squire. It was so nice spending all the time with him at Winterfell. I heard he resides here as well.”

“He does,” she acknowledges, taking one more look around her, though she hopes he doesn't notice. She can't say she's incredibly shocked that he does in fact notice her shifting eyes.

“Jaime isn't with me,” he says.

“Oh.” She's not disappointed, she tells herself. She has known for a while their goodbye in the walls of Winterfell was the end of their complicated story. “Well come,” her spine stiffens. “I'll show you around.”

“Thank you.”

Together they walk away from the docks. Tyrion talking animatedly, while she pushes back all the negative emotions that she was currently not allowing herself to experience.

***---***

Jaime sits in the small tavern in Storms End at the agreed upon time. His stomach is in knots waiting for his companion to show. The ale tastes like shit on his tongue, he drinks it any way. The bar wenches move from table to table trying to make a little extra by showing more cleavage or brushing the loud drunks in the right way. At first they tried that with him, but lost interest when he barely glanced in their direction. His eyes moving back to the door each time it opens.

Finally a small shadow makes his way toward him. He sits straighter in his seat. “Well?”

His brother climbs up on the chair next to him and waves to one of the ladies to bring him a drink. Jaime gets impatient but swallows down another gulp of ale to stop him from being too eager. His brother already has enough fodder to tease him with.

Once the dwarf has his drink in hand he faces Jaime and smiles, “I think you'll find you are in fact welcome in Ser Brienne's presence.”

Jaime releases the air from his lungs in a long breath, “Good.”

“Dear brother,” Tyrion says after a sip of wine, “Try not to fuck it up this time.”

“I'll try,” he says.

“Well I guess that's as good as I can expect from you.”

They clinked their glasses together.

Chapter Text

***---***

Jaime hates standing still. He is a man of action. Waiting leaves him with too much energy and too many thoughts that he would rather not have. He has wasted so much time trying to get to her, going to the wrong places and back again and he feels like he is still wasting time pacing the floor in his old room at Casterly Rock instead getting on his knees in front of Brienne. The reason he isn't is because Tyrion convinced him he needed a plan. He is fighting every compulsion in his body to not hijack the first vessel he can find and start rowing himself to the shores of her island. Gods he wants to so bad. He even imagines how it would play out. Most scenarios end with him cradling a broken bone and her standing over him calling him every cursed name in the book, but he's willing to deal with physical pain if it means he can see her right now.

It's the note from his much more intelligent brother that holds his baser instincts at bay.

'I know this isn't your strength, dear brother, but I beg you to think before you do something stupid,' his younger brother told him in a raven after Jaime sent him the information he got from Sansa. 'You need to have a plan. Especially since your last great decision concerning your lady left her crying alone.'

Jaime hadn't even needed to see his brother to know that the imp was rolling his eyes at Jaime's actions. Both know he had to do it. Cersei was too far gone, too many innocent people were going to die because of her, but they also know the once golden lion went about it in the worst way possible. Looking back on that night, which he does so much, he can see a hundred different ways of how to handle her with more care. He can see a clearer path than riding off with indifference and leaving her drowning in her pain.

It didn't matter that he is just as devastated. It doesn't matter that he stopped in the woods outside the gates of Winterfell and nearly choked as he retched over the side of his horse. It didn't matter because he brought it on himself. He deserved the black hole inside his heart. He had done so much and happiness should not be given to him freely. He needed to suffer for his sins. She didn't though. She didn't deserve to be treated like she was nothing to him but someone to rest his cock in until he returned to his true love. Jaime wants to punch the wall at the thought she actually might believe that.

Brienne of Tarth is too good for him, he can't deny that and would never try too. In all honesty she should stay far away from him. He is only going to dirty her clean soul more than he already has with his filth. He is only going to drag her down.

But...

Jaime Lannister is a selfish man. He lives by the motto he will do anything for love. Even if it means doing the worse thing possible. Which for right now would be crawling back to her because she can do so much better than a hateful, broken lion. Even with that knowledge, he is still planning to do everything in his power to get her back. He needs to be in her light. He needs her sapphire eyes to bring him back to life. He needs to love her and be loved by her. He needs her too much to do what's best for her. He can't breathe easily without her. It's inconsiderate to be so desperate for her forgiveness that he would follow her to the only place she can claim as hers without his tainted memory. It's unkind of him to force his desire to be with her upon her.

It's wrong to hope that she might want him just as much. That doesn't matter either. He was holding onto the dreams that she could possibly take pity on his unworthy self.

His thoughts get interrupted by his brother entering the room. Tyrion smirks at him. His sardonic smile is partly compassionate and partly annoyed. Jaime arches his brow, unimpressed with the expression. The imp shakes his head and walks toward the small table in the center of the room which had some fruit from his breakfast and a half full pitcher of Dornish wine.

Filling a goblet to the rim his brother climbs up onto the chaise lounge, “Have you come up with a plan yet?”

“Yes,” Jaime says sitting on the edge of his bed. “But most of them require me to steal a boat and attempting to row my ass to Tarth one handed.”

“I don't think you will get very far doing that,” Tyrion smirks again, “Spinning in circles will get you nowhere, brother.”

“Neither is staying here,” he counters viciously. “Every day I'm here, thinking about going to her, is another day without her.”

“Jaime,” the dwarf sat up a little straighter, placing the still full glass of wine on the table near him. “She is in pain and you just showing up with nothing but apologies isn't going to be the smartest idea. You made her feel unwanted. You made her think that Cersei was the one you loved. And you don't think that she might believe that you are only returning to her now because our sweet sister is gone.” He pauses. “Your lady knight is strong willed and soft-hearted. And you, my dear brother, are really good using your words to wound the kindhearted.” Jaime's guilt makes his stomach roll. “I know you love her. I know why you did what you did but what I know doesn't really matter. It's what Brienne thinks. Do you think she will realize you were only hurting her to save her? Or do you think she will take your words and actions, the words and actions of a man she considered honorable, at face value?”

Of a man she considered honorable. That phrase, past tense, from his brother's lips sends another shard of glass into his heart. It's true though. She placed everything she is in his hands with trust in her eyes and he tore it all to shreds. Jaime can never take that back.

“Fine,” he concedes, “What do you suggest then?”

Tyrion lifts his brows, “How would you handle this if it were a battle? How would you approach this if you were planning a siege?”

“I'm not fighting Brienne,” Jaime spits out.

“Aren't you,” his brother responds evenly, “You are fighting her doubts and hurt and anger to get to the woman beneath. You are going to have to scale higher walls than ever before. So I would say, yes you are going into battle.”

He opens his mouth to contradict that fact and finds he can't. Finally he stops thinking like a wounded soldier and starts thinking like a commander. “I'd get intelligence. I'd find out where the weaknesses in the castle were and stage my onslaught there, but I wouldn't only focus on that one point, I would also have men in place to storm the area in smaller groups. Attack on more than one front.”

The shorter man nods, “So we need to get someone on the inside to find out where you stand.” He sips his wine, thinking, “Isn't Pod with her on Tarth?”

“I would think so,” Jaime looks off to the side, thinking how the young man never left Brienne's side during the battle against the dead. “He's very loyal to her.”

“I think I'll send him a raven,” Tyrion gulps more of the wine down.

“I just said he is very loyal to her,” Jaime stands and starts pacing again. “He might not be so eager to help the man that hurt her so viciously. In fact he might try to set a trap so he could kill me in revenge for how I treated his true knight.”

“I'm willing to take that chance,” Tyrion grins at him, “Are you?”

Jaime glowers at his brother, but nods his head anyway.

Tyrion walks over to the desk in the corner in the room and quickly writes a small note on a piece of parchment.

Dear Podrick, I hope you are doing well and have found contentment on Tarth. I'd love to visit one day. I've heard it is quite beautiful. Jaime has expressed an interest as well. I hope to hear from you very soon. -Lord Tyrion

***---***

The first response from Podrick is exactly what he expects.

'Lord Tyrion! How wonderful to hear from you. Tarth is beautiful and I am doing well here. For a small island I find myself with so much to do. I'm sure Ser Brienne would enjoy seeing you again.

As for Ser Jaime, he can piss off. -Podrick Payne'

The brothers look at each other. Tyrion can barely contain his amusement. “I don't think I have ever even heard young Podrick curse before.” He lets the parchment roll back up. “You really shit the bed didn't you brother?”

Jaime glares at him. “I told you he was steadfast in his faithfulness to Brienne.”

“You did in fact tell me that,” the imp agrees, “But at least he didn't lure you to your death. It's not a complete loss.”

“Are you mad? He isn't going to help me. He told me to piss off.”

Tyrion waves him off, “This is merely a first step. I have no doubt young Pod will come around.”

***---***

The second correspondence is markedly better.

Lord Tyrion, While I am sure you are only looking out for your brother, I must think of my lady ser. Ser Jaime has done some damage and I will not condone him hurting her again. Can you promise he won't?

“Well can I?” the shorter man asks.

Jaime wants to say yes, of course he can, but he can't. How can he make that promise when all the evidence shows the opposite to be true? So instead of making a mistake by saying something he can't back up he settles on, “I can only promise I will try to never make her cry again.”

“Hopefully that will be enough.”

“It will have to be,” Jaime looks at the ground. “It's all I have.”

***---***

It's after the sixth note back and forth that the brothers Lannister get the response they want. Podrick sends only a small note. Unlike previous ones where they all pretend Jaime isn't reading every word being written and sent, this one is directed solely at him.

You can come. Please do not hurt her. I might not be as good at fighting as you, but I will kill you. I'll meet you on the North side of the island in a fortnight.

Jaime is suddenly nervous. His blood begins pumping faster in his veins and he can feel sweat coat his palm. He rubs hand against the material of his breeches.

“Well I guess we should start getting ready to depart,” Tyrion looks at him curiously. “Are you ready?”

“I,” he licks his lips, “I don't know. I mean,” he closes his eyes and smiles for the first time. “Yeah I just hope I'm not too late. She's everything Tyrion.” He has never before voiced something so personal out loud. Every one can see how he feels but he has never said the words. He is a man of action after all.

“You always were a romantic, Jaime,” Tyrion teases him.

***---***

Podrick meets the small boat they arrive in with fisherman that Pod sent to help them arrive safely, helping the older man to tie it up to a large log that's on the beach. Jaime looks around him and is instantly taken by the beauty. It's even more breathtaking up close than it was when he passed by it all those years ago. The green of the cliffs and the crystal blue of the water make it feel like he is in a fantasy. All he needs is Brienne at his side he will be convinced this is what the Gods have created as a heaven.

Podrick kneels and hugs his former Lord. “It's good to see you again, Lord Tyrion. I was sorry to hear about Queen Daenerys. I did not know her well but she seemed like a kind woman.”

“She was,” Tyrion says softly. “But even kind people can go mad, especially when they lose too much.” He shakes the sadness off and smiles at the squire. “How are you young Podrick? Truly? Have you showed the ladies on this small island your talents?”

“Well,” the young man stutters, “There are a few women here that have...um...” He blushes, “Ser Brienne keeps me busy, but I have...”

Tyrion laughs at his embarrassment, “My boy, I'm jealous! A beautiful island home and pretty ladies to keep your bed warm...”

Podrick blushes even redder and he looks away from Tyrion to Jaime for the first time. His happy expression falls, “Ser Jaime.”

“Podrick,” Jaime licks his lips. “Thank you for helping me.”

The squire glares at him, “I'm not helping you for you. I'm doing it for her.” Jaime feels properly put in his place. Pod sighs and his shoulders drop. “I want to know something before I go against my better judgment any more than I already am.” Jaime nods. He doesn't want to explain himself to his boy, just as he didn't to Sansa, but if it will help him get back with Brienne, he'd bare his soul to the seven hells and let the demons take him. “There are a lot of things I want to say to you about what you did, but the only question I have is, did it hurt you as much?”

Jaime is startled. He isn't expecting that. He has been so prepared for the question of why. It's the one that most would ask. “Yes.” They share a look. “It killed me to leave her like that.”

Pod nods his head and a tiny, barely there smile appears, “I knew those looks you gave her couldn't have been all lies.”

“None of them were lies,” he insists.

Pod rolls his shoulders back, “Too bad then,” he starts, “the lies are the only thing she believes is truth now.”

“That's why we need your help, Podrick,” Tyrion states firmly.

“It isn't going to be easy,” the boy warns.

“Nothing worth fighting for ever is,” Jaime looks up that the sky, “and Brienne is definitely worth fighting for.”

***---***

The three of them watch from a hill across from the castle as Brienne stands at the water's edge, seemingly lost in her own thoughts. They weren't expecting to come upon her so soon. She tips her head up and lets the sun's rays hit her face. Her skin is more golden now, even from a distance Jaime can see where the paleness of being the north has faded slightly. Her boots are in her hands as she moves toward the lapping waves.

“She did this a lot, when we first arrived. I'd find her staring out at the ocean alone when being the Evenstar became too much,” Pod explains. “Now she only does it when she needs some peace. I don't think now would be a good time to see her Ser Jaime.”

“I'm not leaving this fucking place without talking to her,” he is getting beyond tired of the waiting. He needs to set this right. Looking at her now, he feels the invisible string pulling him toward her. The desire to run to her and fold his arms around her increasing with each second. And she is so fucking close. She's right there. “Fuck this,” he mutters to himself. Starting his descent down the hill, he stops at the hand on his arm.

“Let Lord Tyrion see her first,” Pod pleads. “Wait for him in Storms End so we can try and make seeing you again easier.”

“How is seeing my brother going to make my appearance in her life more acceptable? She's either going curse me or kiss me...”

“Or she'll shut down and you'll never reach her,” Pod replies angrily. That shuts Jaime up. “You have no idea what she's been going through. Besides losing her virginity to a man that threw her aside,” okay that stung, “she's been forced to be leader when she feels like she can't trust her own mind and her father is dying.” Pod looks like he wants to punch him again. Its the most the boy has ever said and it's so passionate, Jaime can't help but to listen, “Seeing you right now, when obviously she's not feeling her most confident,” he waves his hand towards where Brienne is still standing, “might be what makes her sink completely.”

“Listen to him, Jaime,” Tyrion urges. “He's been with her longer than you have.”

His mouth floods like the bitter taste of anger. “Fine. One fucking day. I'll wait one more day. After that, we're doing it my way.”

***---***

Brienne wishes she knew Tyrion better. Those days at Winterfell were so filled with tension and fear and when that tension broke and the war was over, he was gone. The only things she knows about him are secondhand from Jaime and Podrick. Both seem to have fond memories of him. His eyes, mismatched and intelligent, make her feel like she's being examined. She shifts in her seat on the balcony where they were having a light snack, reaching for the goblet of water to wet her suddenly dry throat.

“I don't want to make you feel uncomfortable, Ser Brienne,” the imp says with a tiny smile that reaches his eyes. “I just want to see how you are. I know it's been a rather rough year.”

She shrugs slightly, “I haven't had it worse than anyone else,” her hands shake a little and she places them in her lap. “In fact some could argue I've been rather fortunate.”

“How so,” he seems genuinely interested in her answer.

“I survived a war many did not,” she waves around her at the island, “I have a beautiful home. My dreams of being a knight have come true and I'm thankful to have wonderful friends that I can count on.”

“Do you consider my brother among them?”

She can feel the blood drain from her face at the mention of Jaime. The entire walk from the docks here he has talked and asked her questions about her home. He's kept moving, never uttering either of his siblings name's until now. He's been so good at not bringing the older Lannister up she almost believed herself safe from the question entirely. Brienne glances down at her hands in her lap and twists her fingers together painfully.

“Ser Jaime will always have a special place in my life, no matter what happened between us,” she says cautiously, choosing her words with care, resting her hands back on the table to stop the fidgeting. “He taught me a lot,” he loved me when I thought no one else would ever truly want me, “I owe him a great deal. Without him I would still only be Lady Brienne of Tarth.”

“Without him,” he reaches across the small table, his hand barely covering the top half of hers, “your heart would not be broken.”

Brienne slides her hand out from under his and smiles through the blur of tears in her eyes, “I fear, Lord Tyrion, that fate was always my cross to bear. I don't blame Ser Jaime for that.”

“You are being very generous.”

Her voice goes soft as she says the words Jaime said to her when they first met, “You don't choose whom you love.”

She turns away from him and stares out at the ocean. It's one of the most truthful things he ever said to her. And the words haunt her now in a way she never thought they would.

***---***

Three days after meeting with his brother in that tavern, Jaime is sitting with Tyrion in the Evenhall great hall waiting for Brienne to appear. He looks around him at the castle. He has been in a lot of beautiful locations, has stayed in much grander castles, but none have made his eyes widen in the way this one has. The great hall is dominated by three large windows that look out at the seas on one side and a grand hearth on the other. The ceiling is a criss-cross pattern of thick drift wood logs and smooth stone. It's floors are shiny coal black which contrasts with the lightness every where else.

He licks his lips as his eyes flicker toward the open door as Pod enters with some drinks and a small plate of food. Placing the items down, he takes a seat opposite the brothers. “She should be here soon,” he selects a berry from the platter, “she had to speak with the master at arms about a matter.”

Jaime nods, feeling jumpy and agitated. Tyrion pours his drink and grimaces, “No wine?”

Pod shrugs, “I think you will survive my Lord.”

“I'm not sure my brother will,” Tyrion sips the water. “Are you doing well, Jaime? You seem a little peckish.”

“I'm fine,” he stops at the sound of laughter. Turning quickly around his heart jumps into his throat. Brienne walks into the hall with a younger man at her side. The other man's hand is on her right arm as the conversation flows to a natural stop. Jaime's blood heats the longer the master at arms touches her. He doesn't have the right to be jealous, but just like when Tormund would make advances on her, all Jaime could see was red. After years of dealing with jealousy over Cersei he has learned to cover it well and he does so again. The laughter dies on her lips when she sees him sitting in her home. Jaime hurriedly raises to his feet as she stares in disbelief at him. “Brienne...” he breathes out.

“Jaime,” she swallows deeply, her cheeks blush a lovely shade of pink, then she turns around and walks out of the room leaving the four men to watch her retreat.

“Well that didn't go as planned,” Tyrion mutters into the silence.

Jaime hurries after her. He isn't letting her out of his sight now.

Chapter Text

Brienne hyperventilates as she runs from the castle to the fields of wildflowers on the east side. Her vision doubles and she has to bend down before she passes out. He's here. Oh Gods he is here. On Tarth. In her home. Jaime Lannister is in her home and she doesn't know how to deal with this. She really had thought she would be okay. That almost two years apart would make it easier somehow. That their month together would be enough to carry her through the rest of her life. That the memories of him holding her and kissing her and telling her he wants her would be enough.

And it was. Until he came to her home. Until now. With him sitting in her father's great hall. She could live a quiet sad existence with her memories and her sword and pretend... as long as she never, ever had to see him again. Now that she has she realizes she was just fooling herself. Memories were always going to be a poor replacement for him being next to her and holding her.

“Brienne,” his voice. Gods be merciful his voice can do things to her. Her stomach flips and drops and her blood rushes hot in her veins. “Brienne, please look at me.”

She turns to face him and is immediately taken in by his beauty. It really is unfair a man should be that becoming. It actually hurts her eyes a little, like when you stare into the sun too long. Brienne takes a moment to appreciate him, to compare how he looked the last time she saw him with how he looks now. The beard that he had started growing while in the North was trimmed tightly to his jawline, framing his face with spun gold and silver. His hair has lightened considerably from being away from the constantly dark north during the winter. His endlessly deep green eyes are bright and intense as they stare back at her. She has to swallow because her mouth suddenly feels dry. She wants so badly to touch him, to see if her dreams of how his skin felt under her fingertips was true to life. Brienne curls her hands into fists, the blunt finger nails biting into the fleshy part of her palm.

Jaime takes a step towards her and she has to force herself not to take one back. She ran from before, but she will not turn craven again. Brienne watches him warily as he continues to move in her direction, her heart pounding hard with each step he takes. He stops with only a foot between them. It would be so easy to reach out. It would be so easy to push away. She stands still instead.

The ocean air picks up, sweeping across the flowers, making them dance all around them. It could almost be a dream. Her hair, which has grown since the last time they saw each other, flies forward over her cheeks and eyes. He lifts his hand pushing them back and hooking the strands behind her ears. The touch of his hand jolts her out the fog that had settled around them. She licks her lips and he mimics the action.

“What are you doing here,” she asks, pushing all her hopes aside. “Why are you on Tarth, Ser Jaime?”

His mouth twists slightly, “Isn't that a little formal for us, Brienne?”

Her lips tightens, “I don't know what you mean.”

“I think you do, wench,” she blinks rapidly at the name he gave her when they first met. It's been a long time since she's heard it and it makes her insides clench. Easier times, she thinks, those were much easier times. He was the Kingslayer and you were the ugly wench and you didn't love him. He sighs. “I'm here because how I left things between us kills me. I can't stop thinking about you and I wanted to say I'm sor-”

She starts shaking her head. Brienne can't listen to this. Words were wind as they say and his actions that night spoke loud enough. Her body sways away from him, “Don't...” she bows her head so he can't see the tears gathering in her eyes. “I don't want your explanations or excuses.” Her voice breaks a little and she pauses to try and gain some composure. “I don't want your apologies.”

Jaime uses his index finger to lift her head up so he can look upon her, “What do you want?”

I want my heart to stop hurting. I want you to leave. I want you to want to stay. I want to forget I ever fucked you. I want to always remember how gentle you were when we fucked. I want to scream at you and break you in the same way you broke me. I want you to hold me and never let me go. I want.. I want... I want what I can't have. I want you to be mine.

“Peace,” she says softly, mostly to herself. “I want peace.”

She walks around him toward Evenfall. Her steps are slow and measured. She isn't running this time but she isn't turning around either. Brienne doesn't stop at the hall, she really doesn't want to face her guests right now. She climbs the spiral staircase to her private chambers and enters the quiet room gratefully. She pulls at the ties that hold the curtains back on her large childhood bed and crawls under the covers, thankful she has no appointments waiting for her. She hides her face in the pillow and cries silent tears.

***---***

Tyrion catches Jaime's eye as his brother walks back in. He raises his eyebrow in question and receives a subtle shake of his head in response. He sighs, sliding down from one of the long benches and walks toward his older sibling.

“So I take it it didn't go well,” Tyrion surmises as they walk into an alcove for more privacy.

“You could say that.” Jaime looks at the ground. “She wouldn't listen to anything I had to say. She wouldn't even let me apologize.”

“That's not too surprising,” Tyrion muses. “Words aren't going to fix what happened between you.” He tilts his head to the side, “What did she say?”

“She said,” he pauses, takes a deep breath and begins again. “She said she wants peace.”

“Well than give that to her,” he really didn't see what the issue is.

“I'm not leaving here,” Jaime hisses in anger. “I'm not going to turn around and walk away.”

Tyrion's eyebrows slide together, he realizes all at once he is going to have to explain this to him. It never ceases to amaze him how obtuse his brother can be when it comes to women. He is one of the most handsome men of all of Westeros but can not figure out how to handle even talking sensibly to the one woman he loves. Although maybe it shouldn't be shocking to him after all, his only real relationship that he's been in, other than Brienne, was Cersei and Gods knows she screwed him up significantly.

“She isn't asking you to leave her alone. She's asking for peace of mind. If she was asking you to leave her alone, she would have said that plainly. Just as she said that she wanted you to stay plainly.” He paces the small alcove they are standing in before smirking at his brother, “That or she could have broken a bone or possibly made you walk with a bit of a limp.” Jaime grimaces at him. “The point is this is going to take time Jaime. This is the long game, dear brother. There are no short cuts or easy answers. You are going to have build the trust back brick by brick.”

Jaime leans against the wall, rubbing at the sweat dipping down the back of his neck, “I never thought I would have to breaks all these walls again.” His green eyes bore into Tyrion's mismatched ones. “It took me forever to get her to stop calling kingslayer, to get her to call me by my name. It took losing a hand to get her to stop seeing me as a monster and start looking at me like a man.” Jaime looks over Tyrion's shoulder.

“It also didn't hurt that you jumped into a bear pit for her,” he says.

“How did you...” his older brother stutters, “I never told...how did you know?”

“Oh dear brother,” Tyrion smiles puckishly at him. “Songs were already being sung about you before you even made it back to King's Landing. They did not amuse Cersei as much as they did me, for sure.” Tyrion gleefully remembers Cersei's expression as she heard the song about Jaime and Brienne. “I'm quite certain they made you out to be much more heroic than you actually were. The knight saving his naked damsel in distress in a bear pit with nothing to protect you but your love for her. Why did you do it?”

Jaime stays silent and Tyrion has to wonder if he will even answer, then he shrugs and says, “I dreamed of her.”

“Well now,” Tyrion smiles brightly. “That is romantic.” He angles his head toward the hall, “Now lets go talk to Pod about how we are going to make Ser Brienne talk to you again.”

***---***

Brienne slowly climbs the stairs to her father's bedchambers feeling heavier than she should. Her body feels weighed down by all the stress and fear and pain. She tries to push it aside as she reaches the final set of stairs. The maester closes the door to Selwyn's room as she nears. Their eyes lock for a moment then the maester looks away. It's too late though. She's knows it's not good news. Her beloved father will be meeting the Stranger soon rather than later. Brienne leans against the wall for support. She has to be strong. She could not go in there and start crying on his shoulders. She would be his rock... she will.

She pastes a smile on her face and pushes against the heavy wood door. Her carefully placed expression nearly falls as soon as she looks at him in the bed. His face looks ashen and even thinner than it had been previously. There were dark circles around his eyes and they were unfocused, staring off into the distance. At the corner of his mouth some drool slips down his chin. Brienne straightens she back, walking over to the small in table by his bed, picking up a cloth square and began to gently wipe his mouth. The touch pulls him back and his pale eyes lock with hers. A coughing fit claims his body causing him to hunch in on himself. She rubs his back, snatching a glass from his table for once he is finished coughing. She holds the goblet steady as he sips the cool liquid gratefully.

He smiles at her as he leans back against the cushions. “Why do you look so sad, my sweetling?”

“I would think the answer to that is obvious,” she angles her head down to stop him from seeing the beginnings of her tears. She promised herself she would not do this and yet here she is...

“All men must die, my precious daughter,” he tips her head up, “but I'm not leaving you this night. The Stranger will come, but he will have to wait. I just got you back and I intend to stay as long as possible.” She holds his hand in hers and nods, “You look lost?”

“Aren't all children lost without a parent to guide them?”

“Ah,” he shakes his head, “not you. You have always followed your heart and been strong in your convictions. You haven't needed me to hold your hand for a long while now.”

“Maybe I did,” she whispers, “maybe I do. I can't do this by myself, father.”

“You aren't by yourself,” he wipes at the tracks of her tears with his thumb. “You have that kind young man Pod and you have a good head on your shoulders.”

“I'm not so certain about that,” she lowers her head again. “I'm not the same innocent girl that left this island. I've done thing that would not make you proud of who I've become.”

“I know more than you think, my sweetling,” she feels a rush of cold shock run through her, “You have become quite famous. Especially in regards to your relationship with Ser Jaime Lannister. Many rumors about you two have reached my ears.”

“Ser Jaime and I,” she starts and stops, “we aren't... those songs are...” she swallows roughly. “I'm sorry I disappointed you. I am damaged and I can't give you an heir. I have failed you.”

“Brienne,” he says sharply. “You have never failed me or disappointed me. I am proud of my strong, bright, kind and brave daughter. The first lady knight in all the seven kingdoms. I have seen a lot in my years. I have seen the heartbreak I feel over your mother reflected in your eyes these months and it hurts to know you think I'd be upset with you for finding a little happiness in this harsh unforgiving world. If I have ever made you feel that way, then I beg your forgiveness, my daughter.” He cups her face in his hands, “You're worth is so much more than a small strip of skin between your legs. It's in the way you are unselfish and hard working and love so fiercely I'm bless to be on the receiving end of it.” He kisses her eyes, “You are perfect to me,” he kisses the bridge of her broken nose, “You are the greatest part of me,” he kisses her forehead, “And if anyone doesn't agree with that, then they can be cased into the seven hells and get burned in every one.”

She closes her eyes and breathes deeply through the soft tears. “Thank you,” she holds him tightly resting her head on his shoulder. “Thank you for always letting me be myself. Thank you for not forcing me to be someone's wife. Thank you for being the best father a knight could ask for.”

“The most honor and noble knight in all of Westeros,” he tells her proudly. “This world is lucky to have you protecting them.”

Brienne smiles through another round of tears. She had no idea how much she needed him to say that. How much she needed to know that she isn't a failure in his eyes. It's like a weight is lifted from her shoulders and she can face the world with confidence again because he believes she can.

***---***

Jaime follows Pod down the narrow cobble stone streets toward a inn. His eyes swing from sight to sight on his way. Lining the streets there are vendors selling goods with mutts running from booth to booth hoping for scraps. Children laugh, playing without a care. It's so different here than any other place Jaime has called home. There is a lightness to the air and smiles are given a little more frequently to him.

He believes that's because they don't know him on sight, but he is willing to enjoy not being spit on and cursed for as long as he can. Pod nudges him and points to the inn's sign. The Sand Dollar Inn. He is about to go in when two kids catch his attention. A young girl with tangled chestnut hair is swinging a sword at a boy with similar features that had to be a couple years older than her. Her blow lands and forces the boy to drop his wooden sword. The young girl smiles proudly showing her front teeth missing.

“Amberlin,” the boy huffs, “girls can't fight. It's for boys.”

“Uh-uh, Bracklin,” she exclaims pushing her hair back from her face with a tiny hand, “Ser Brienne is a fighter and is the best knight in the whole wide world. I'm gonna be a knight too.”

“Ser Brienne is special,” Bracklin says in wonderment. Jaime understands the feeling. He felt it too when he first saw her hold a sword and felt the his steel kiss hers. “Plus she's the Evenstar's daughter. You're just a smith's daughter.”

She stomps her foot and chin trembles but she doesn't cry, “When I'm one and ten I'm going to train and be a better fighter than you. Ser Brienne said anyone that wants to train can.”

“Father won't let you,” he says and she raises her chin in defiance. “You couldn't be better than me anyway. I'm two and ten and I'm already training with Ser Carlon,” Jaime grits his teeth at the name. “He says I'm one of the best in the students he has.”

“That's only because he hasn't seen me yet,” Amberlin says stubbornly. Jaime has to chuckle silently. Maybe Tarth just grows pigheaded women. “I'm going to be the best, just you wait.”

Bracklin grimaces and grabs his practice sword from the ground, “Father still isn't going to let you.” He turns, walking away from his little sister.

She traces shapes on the ground with the tip of her wooden blade. Jaime can see the tears starting to fall. He leans down, getting eye level with her. “I think you'll make a great knight,” he smiles at her. “I know Ser Brienne. I fought with her. I think she would say the same.”

“Really,” she sniffles using the back of her arm to wipe at her face. “You think so.”

“I do.”

Amberlin grins at him as her mother calls from the smiths shop. She gives him another smile than runs to her mother. Jaime raises from his crouch position to see Pod watching him with a knowing expression.

“Lets get you that room,” he says as they enter the establishment.

Jaime follows thinking of a tiny girl swinging a sword, only this one has bright blonde curls with deep blue eyes and freckles on her cheeks. The thought warms his heart and he makes a promise to that phantom girl that he would do everything in his power to make her real.

All he has to do is get Brienne to forgive him.

Easy...

Chapter Text

***---***

Jaime doesn't care for Ser Carlon. He grimaces at the picture in front of him. The younger man talking animatedly with Brienne probably about the young men or swords. Light bounces off his chocolate, wavy hair without a single gray to be found. The master at arms is closer to Brienne in age. Jaime rubs at his gold and silver beard. He feels the years on his shoulders. Looking over at the duo standing in the practice yard, he can see that Ser Carlon is fascinated by his lady warrior.

He could not blame him and even commends him on his good sense at noticing her, but he wished the man would leave her be. The flirting is pathetic really. And to be honest, Jaime didn't need him mucking up his plans to woo his lady back. It is hard enough to find time with her as is. Brienne has taken great care to avoid him... He grins to himself. And he has taken great care to make that impossible.

Working out her schedule turned out to be easy. Pod, shockingly enough, has stepped up in his help to reunite the lovers. He secreted messages about places Brienne would be the following day and Jaime would make sure to be there in plain view. Her eyes always got wide at seeing him. Jaime found her reactions intoxicating. He looks for opportunities to cause redness to bloom in her cheeks and relishes each time her breath catches.

He knows she still feels for him. He knows it in his bones. Brienne's face is an open book to him, her emotions on display for all to see. One day he decided to see how her father felt about him. To say it was a rash impulse would not be out of the realm, but Jaime wanted to meet the man that helped create the woman that held his heart so innocently in her hands.

The Evenstar was a large man. Even on his death bed, he was massive. Upon seeing the man that broke his daughter's heart, he sat up straighter. His blue eyes, so much like Brienne's, were watchful and aware. Jaime had heard those moments of clarity were rare as the end grew near.

“Lord Selwyn,” he said, trying to sound confident, “may I have a word?”

“Yes,” the voice, rough from sickness, still sounded strong, “I do believe we have much to discuss. Please sit, Kingslayer.”

He made it a point not to flinch. The hated name said from someone he wished to impress was not a good start. Jaime took a seat in the chair closest to the bed, but moved it far enough away that if Selwyn wished to cause him harm he had a good chance to get out. The Lord of Tarth noticed and a proud glimmer settled in his eyes.

“I want to say,” Jaime stopped, he had no idea what to say. He had only been with Cersei. He has never talked to the father of the woman he loved and ask the man for his blessing. The thought of asking Tywin for Cersei's hand both amused and sickened him. Clearing his throat he started again, “I want to say I know I hurt your daughter and I have no right to ask her forgiveness, but I'm going to anyway.”

“My sweetling is stubborn in her beliefs.” He coughed into a cloth, taking a moment to gather himself before continuing. “She will not believe your good intentions so easily.”

Jaime nodded. “I know.” His jade eyes met blue ones. “Do you believe my intentions are good?”

“I believe you are a fool.” Jaime took the blow, it was only the truth. “You had a chance at true happiness with my sweet daughter and you threw it away and left her broken. You are lucky to still be alive. My men have kept a close eye on you.”

“I am aware of the eyes on me,” he acknowledged. “I would expect nothing less and if I dare to cause a tear to fall from Brienne's eyes again, you have my word I will find the first soldier I see and fall upon his sword.”

Selwyn laughed, “A bit dramatic, wouldn't you say, kingslayer?” His eyes twinkled in mirth. “I really do not think you would have to look far. Brienne has a pretty sword that is always at her hip. One I recall you giving her. I'm sure she'll let you use it if the time comes to fall upon the blade.”

“Well she did try and drown me in a river when we first met,” Jaime chuckled.

The man on the bed howled, “Now that sounds like my girl.”

They were still laughing when the woman at the center of their conversation entered the chamber. His throat tightened at her appearance. Sun kissed, with dirt smudged on her cheeks and a sweet confused smile on her lips. She looked between the two and then backed away, shaking.

Jaime remembers that day so clearly. It gives him hope even while Brienne tries to create distance. She isn't so unfeeling toward him. Her father confirmed that and her own face betrayed it as well. He just has to make sure that Ser Carlon knows that as well. He walks into the yard and plucks a wooden sword from the pile on the ground, swinging it with his left hand. It still feels odd to hold and fight with this hand, but he is getting better. He took down wights with this hand. Saved Brienne as well.

Ser Carlon and Brienne look in his direction. The young man's eyes were annoyed. He didn't like his time with the tall blonde interrupted. Jaime grins at that. Brienne, however, looks resigned to him appearing in her presence again.

“Ser Jaime,” she says with a clipped tone.

“Ser Brienne,” he bows his head, his grin growing at the glow in her cheeks. “Care for a spar?”

She desires to. Her hand flexes. He sees the clench of her jaw, the determination in her eyes, the want in her body. She hesitates, thinking about the way they used to move together. Come, sweetling, he thinks, the music is still playing. Care for a dance?

“I really shouldn't,” her voice gives her away. She shouldn't but she wants it. “I have much to do.” Her sapphire eyes dull at the prospect of putting her duties before sparring with him. He hates to see the light go a little darker in her. “Mayhaps some other time...”

He bows to her, “I look forward to our dance, my lady.”

Brienne snorts, her eyes gaining some of the shine back. “You should spar with Ser Carlon.” Both men grimace at that. “I'm sure you could learn much from each other.”

“I would love to,” Ser Carlon says with an exaggerated tone of sadness, “but I have much to do myself. I want to start teaching the boys to use a morning star in our next lesson. I have not used one in many moons and need to reestablish my skill with the weapon.”

“Pity,” Jaime tuts, keeping his face neutral. “Well I will just have to wait on Ser Brienne to make sure my swordplay doesn't turn rusty.”

“I doubt you will ever lose your skill with a blade, Ser Jaime.”

Jaime smiles softly at her and she blushes back at him, before turning on her heel to walk away.

***---***

Tarth is small, so avoiding someone could be a tall task indeed. Especially when it is Jaime Lannister and she is the acting Evenstar until her father passes and the title became hers outright. She has duties and he seems to be everywhere she happens to be and it is driving her mad.

It's been three moon turns since he appeared on her tiny rock in the Stormlands. His stupid handsome face smiles at her in the court yard while he and Pod talk when she starts her day. Somehow he knows exactly when she will make her rounds through town, inquiring about goods. He stands at the docks with her awaiting the ships. The men of the island even started to look at him as her second because he casually makes suggestions and she can never deny the points he brings up are very sound. The only discontent she ever sees is between Jaime and Ser Carlon. She didn't understand it, but neither man seems particularly fond of the other. Every one else on Tarth has embraced the golden lion of house Lannister.

He even found time to seek out her father. It happened during a day she was with her council surveying some of the damage a strong storm that rolled through did to lands on the west of the island. When she returned dirty and exhausted, she was shocked to hear laughter coming from her father's chambers. Upon seeing Selwyn sitting up, looking more himself than he had in weeks and Jaime grinning like the lion he was, she felt uneasy and had nearly run from the room. It was not something she ever thought she would witness and it left her shaking.

Cornering Jaime after was no challenge, he wasn't the one trying to hide. He greeted her with a knowing smile as she fidgeted. Her tongue felt heavy in her mouth, but she pushed through.

“What were you discussing with my father,” she asked as they walked along the shoreline.

Jaime chuckled, “You, of course.” His jade orbs made her weak as they sparkled at her. “We were talking about our love for you.”

“I wish you wouldn't say such things as that, Ser Jaime. For you know you do not have that deep an affection for me.”

“And I,” he licked his lips, her mind went to a very dangerous place at the sight. “Wish you would realize how wrong you are.” Her heart had pounded painfully in her chest as he leaned forward, his mouth breathing moist fire against the shell of her ear. “I have more than a deep affection for you. I will make you see that.”

He pressed his mouth to her temple and walked away leaving her confused and wanting.

Some times she actually wants to pull him aside and plead with him to leave already. It wasn't like he struggled the last time...but she could not. Because deep down, a not so small part of her didn't want to. That part, the one she keeps hidden in a dark place inside herself, likes having him around; swoons when he walks her way with a wicked look in his eyes and a smile that could melt the great ice wall in the north.

Her father, it turns out, can be swayed by the Lannister charm as well. When they talked later, the man that sired her, patted her hand and said, “He was a simpleton to leave you in such a way. But my sweetling, I do believe he loves you as you love him.” Her father chuckled, grinning like a madman, “He did seek my advice in how to get you back, knowing that, even as I lay dying in this bed, I could still have him ripped to shreds for hurting you.” He shook his head, “A thrice damned love-sick fool.”

It seems like all the Tarths will eventually fall prey to Jaime Lannister. Brienne rubs are her temples a headache starting to pulse painfully between her eyes.. Damn him. Why couldn't he just stay away? Let her believe the thoughts that crowded her mind about how it was over between them and she is fine with that, instead of letting rays of light invade the darkness.

Getting up from the chair in her private study, she walks to the window and watches the waves roll into the shore. It would be easier if she didn't foolishly still love him as strongly as she did when he first looked upon her with kindness. If she didn't close her eyes at night and dream of his touch on her sweaty skin as they lay sated and panting. It would be easier if she could be cold toward him and not warm up at his intense gaze. Unfortunately for her, she couldn't do any of those.

She will always be the court jester in love with the golden lion. It's a burden she is aware she will carry with her until the end of her days, because her heart refuses to be moved. It is as stubborn as the rest of her. Determined to stand at the gates of the seven hells and proclaim her undying loyalty to the man she chose.

A knock at her door pulls her from her thoughts. “Come in,” she calls moving back to the desk without looking up. She has been waiting for her guest to arrive and is thankful for the distraction. “Lord Harworth, I've looked over your proposal and-”

“It's not,” her eyes lift from the desk and she can't quite bite back a groan. Jaime grins at the sound. “Lord Harworth, I'm afraid. I actually just saw the minor lord. He appeared an awful shade of green. Nerves, I would say.” He takes a seat in the chair across from her, placing his good arm over his flat muscular stomach. “From what I've been told, that means your afternoon is free. Care to show me around your island, you have not been the most gracious of host. Leaving me to find out about your home on my own or from Pod.” He shakes his head, a glint in his eyes she tries hard not to recognize, “Come, my lady, show your guest a good time.”

“More like my nuisance,” Brienne blushes crimson at his amused expression. Her body tingles so close to him and she agrees to his request to explore the island. Because, once again, her traitor of a heart longs to be near him and she's getting tired of acting like the rest of her isn't just as needy.

***---***

Her eyes shine when she speaks of her home. Jaime can't help but look at them. He has always thought they were magnificent, but now those blue orbs leave him speechless. Brienne takes him to some of the places she would go to as a kid. Pointing out spots and would tell him little crumbs about her childhood.

At a stream they come upon, she tells him, “Galladon taught me to fish here. He was so patient with his three year old sister. He stood here for hours until I learned how to cast the line just right.”

“You miss him.”

She looks at him with those sad eyes, “Everyday. And more so now with my father so close...” Brienne lets the sentence drop and he doesn't press, he understands.

When they reach a beautiful lake with a tall waterfall, she laughs. “I jumped off that cliff when I was ten.” He grins thinking about a young Brienne, fearlessly jumping into the unknown. “My septa nearly died when I came back into the castle soaked to the bone in my dress. Her screams could have been heard for miles, but my father,” she stops and the mirth on her face turns softer. “My father laughed. He told my septa that I was young and to let me be.” She sighs, “My septa was horrible. My father knew it, but didn't send her away. He was too buried in grief and his desire to escape from that pain. He left me alone with a monster that broke me down little by little.”

Jaime feels the rage build inside him at the man that he respected because of Brienne. How could any man let harm come to her? Guilt nudges at the anger- who was he to throw stones? Her father was deep in pain over losing his son and wife. While he was a jackass that couldn't just tell her the truth about why he was choosing to leave under the cover of darkness. It seems both men in her life have caused scars to form on her heart and yet she finds it in herself to love anyway. He is awestruck by her again and knows he always will be.

“But,” she continues, “that day, while I was dripping water onto the floor in the foyer, he stood up to her. Septa Roelle had turned nearly purple in embarrassment at the Evenstar calling her out in such a manner.” She pushes some hair behind her ears and laughs. “She continued to be horrible, but after that day, I didn't feel it as deeply. After that day, I started see her for who she was- an old, bitter woman.”

“You sound as if you almost pity her,” he tries not to appear frustrated at the thought. It would be like Brienne to forgive someone so cruel. She has that kind of giving heart, but she shouldn't. She should find it in her to hate. He knows she seeks justice. He knows she remembers wrongs. But she doesn't hold the hate in her after it's done the way others do, the way he does. “She doesn't deserve your forgiveness from what you say.”

“Forgiveness isn't always about the other person,” Brienne says wisely. “Sometimes it's selfish.” She shrugs. “I could spend my life hating her. I certainly do not care for her and if she still lived, she would not be a septa to my child, should I have any, which I most likely will not.” He pushes down his feelings about that because he believes she will some day and he will be the one to give them to her. That little blonde girl in his mind demands to be realized. She sighs, “But I don't want to live with that much darkness. I have experienced so much pain that holding onto anger over that woman seems pointless. Look at Lady Sansa,” she says the name with reverence. “She has been through hell and has come out stronger because of it.”

“She does hate though,” he points out. “She had the man that raped her eaten by his own dogs and would have sought revenge on Joffrey for his deeds had he not died at his wedding. Lady Sansa sees the wisdom in remembering wrongs and setting them right. She learned at my sweet sister's hand how to pay back debts owed.”

Brienne's face tightens at the mention of Cersei. “I do not wish to be like your sister, Ser Jaime.”

You could never be like her, he thinks. And I'm forever thankful for that.

“And I would never want you to be,” he tells her with sincerity. “I only want you to be the strong woman I love.” She looks away from him. “You still don't believe me when I tell you I love you.”

“I don't,” she pauses, “I don't know what to believe any longer.”

He takes a step toward her, placing his hand on her cheek. “I will just have to try harder to make it clear to you.”

Jaime brushes his lips against hers in a barely there kiss. Her breathing turns heavy and her hands come to rest on his waist. He takes it as a sign and presses his mouth to hers more firmly. Her large, soft lips fall open just enough for his tongue to snake through and map out the cavern of her mouth, the edges of her teeth. She sighs, he captures the sound, holds it in his heart and answers with a growl that rumbles from low in his throat. His right arm locks around her back, urging her closer, the golden hand resting at the base of her spine. Brienne doesn't need much pushing and he knows if she was really, truly unwilling, he would have been unable to move her at all.

It thrills him how strong she is. It sends waves of heat into his blood stream thinking about how powerful her body is, how she could crush him in her bare hands and yet she would never think to do such a thing. Her hands move on him, sliding up and down his back. One ends up in his hair, twisting fingers through the curls at the nape. The other finds purchase in the material of his light tunic. He wishes the cloth gone. He longs to feel the rough palms on his skin.

Jaime eases back when the need for air finally forces him to release her sweet mint flavored mouth. Her eyes open slowly, the blue darker and the black blown wide. Her cheeks are patchy and red. Her fingers continue to play with his hair, sending shivers down his spine. She swallows then licks her kiss swollen lips, bringing his eyes back to them. He could kiss her for the rest of his days.

Brienne watches him closely. Her mind working through the lust filled fog he created in her. She gnaws at her bottom lip, pulling and breaking the skin. He wants to sooth the hurting flesh with his tongue, taste her blood, let it settle in his veins.

“We should,” her voice is deeper, darker with arousal. He shivers again and kisses her hotly, swallowing whatever she was going to say. She whimpers, falling into the black waters with him, need dragging them below. “Gods,” she whispers as he moves to her thick, strong neck. “I should hate you.”

“But you don't,” he mouths at the pulse point at the base of her jaw.

“No, damn it,” she grips his shoulders tightly. He knows there will be bruises blooming where her fingers push into his flesh. He enjoys the pain and the knowledge. “I want you.”

He pulls back and looks into her eyes, “You have me.”

Something breaks inside of her in that moment. He sees her stop struggling and come to a decision. He only has a moment to brace himself before she drags him to the ground and covers his body with hers. Their lips crash together, all softness gone; this is a fight, a duel for dominance. This is pure madness and Jaime yearns for more. He has just lifted her tunic enough to touch the silk covered muscles of her stomach when he hears the voice call out.

“Ser Brienne,” she jumps at her name, accidentally nudging his hard cock in the process. He lets out a pain filled huff and her eyes meet his in apology, scrambling to get up and pull him with her. They stand together, looking like two lovers caught in the middle of the act- which they were- when Pod appears. His face flushes when he sees them. His brother, on the other hand, looks positively gleeful. “I'm- I'm,” the young squire stumbles over his words.

Brienne straightens her clothes with as much dignity as she can muster while looking like she wants to be anywhere but there and waves her hand. “I should be going. Pod would you come with me back to the castle.” She turns to Jaime and nods, “Ser Jaime, I hope you liked your tour.” She doesn't wait for a response before walking away, acknowledging his brother as she goes. “Lord Tyrion.”

“Ser Brienne,” Tyrion nods to her, his eyes never truly leaving Jaime's face.

Pod hurries to catch up with his lady knight, leaving the Lannister men in the clearing alone. Tyrion smirks at him.

“I appears young Pod and I have very bad timing indeed.” Then he says innocently, something his imp of a brother has not been in years, “Did you enjoy your tour, Jaime?”

“Fuck off, Tyrion,” Jaime grumbles, trying to adjust his painfully tight breeches. His brother laughs so hard at him tears fall and Jaime has the urge to slap him with his heavy golden hand.

***---***

Chapter Text

***---***

She couldn't breathe. The air is too thin and she feels like her lungs are filling with water. She looks at her father. His blue eyes are vacant, his skin is almost translucent. The maester assures her it won't be long now. Brienne crawls in the bed next to her father, curling her body around his. His breath rattles in his chest, his heart beat is slow. She holds back the tears as much as possible but some leak out.

Her father is dying in her arms. His once large body is frail under her hands. She presses her nose into his neck and inhales his familiar scent. It is one she's known her entire life. It is home and safety. And she is terrified to never smell it again. Her insides are numb with all the pain coursing through her. The door to her father's chamber opens and she rolls over to see who it is. Jaime hovers in the doorway. His face doesn't carry his normal smirk, his green eyes are sad and haunted.

Brienne lifts her body from the mattress, kissing her father's cheek before she leaves his side. Walking over to Jaime, she feels her carefully constructed walls start to crumble like a sand castle against a wave. She stands in front of him, not sure what to do. He holds his arms out to her and she sinks into them. Her body starts shaking with silent sobs. He wraps her tightly into his embrace, letting her break, letting her fall apart.

“He is dying,” she whispers, heartbroken at even saying the words. “He is leaving soon. Jaime, he is all I have left in this world...”

“Brienne,” he pulls back to look into her eyes. He wipes the tears from her face, first one side than the other with his left thumb. “You have so many people that love you. You will not be alone in the world. I promise you.”

She shakes her head, the words he says not making sense in her head. Of course she will be alone. Pod will eventually find someone, or decide he wants to leave this tiny island and have adventures on his own. Tyrion is leaving soon. His life is with his Queen. And Jaime... Jaime will realize that he does not really want her. Just as he did in Winterfell. Brienne takes a step back, creating distance- physical and emotional. He will break her heart again if she lets him.

Another step back. He will always leave. Another. Jaime does not love her. Another. Stop fooling yourself, she commands. Her throat starts to close as doubt and pain creeps into her blood. She can't handle this. She's not strong enough. At one time in her life, maybe she would have been. Back when she had never seen the true horrors that existed in the world. Back before death walked and came for her friends and loved ones. Back when everything was black and white, and shades of gray didn't enter her mind.

Now, she is too shattered. She turns from him and wraps her arms around her middle. Tarth is almost never cold, the sun seems to shine even in the dark; but at this moment, Brienne could not get warm. Jaime sighs from behind her and she's sure he will leave. In her head, she pleads with him to go. Let her be. Maybe then she'll have a chance, a real chance, to one day let him go.

He leans his forehead against her shoulder and she tenses. He wraps his left arm around her, forcibly taking her hand in his and holding on until she uncurls her fist and relaxes a little. “I know I did this,” he tells her softly. “I know it is my stupid, thoughtless actions which did this to you.” He presses his mouth to the sensitive skin behind her ear, and she feels the tears rise in her throat again. “If I could change what I did, how I hurt you, I would. But I can't.” He holds her tighter and she sinks back into him. She needs him. “I can only promise you that I will never leave you again. I am here when you need me.”

“Jaime...” She closes her eyes. “I am scared.”

“I know,” he kisses her neck softly. “I know you are, but you are the strongest person I have ever met. You can handle this. And if you need support, I will be here to hold you.”

She turns in his arm and looks at him. His eyes hold hers, unwavering. The maester comes in and she breaks away from him. He nods his head in understanding. She wants to ask him to stay, but knows that she shouldn't, so she holds her tongue. Jaime walks to the door, looking back at her once he reaches it. She takes a deep breath, he does the same. The connection she has always felt in his presence, even when he was only the Kingslayer to her, vibrates between them, warming her up. Brienne can almost see it. The cord that connects their hearts and souls linking them together.

He can feel it too. She knows by the way his eyes stare intently at her and his mouth parts on a silent breath. He looks away, leaving her cold again. Brienne wipes quickly at her tears and takes her place at her father's side again. Maester Jonah swipes a wet cloth against Selwyn's forehead. Her father lets out a tiny moan, barely audible. But she hears it. It's wet and painful.

“Lady Brienne,” Maester Jonah turns worried and resolute eyes on her. “He is slipping. The Stranger will come soon. I fear he will not make it through the night to see the morn.” He walks to her side and places his hand on her slumping shoulder. “I think it best you say whatever is on your heart, my child.”

She nods. Her voice lost in the thickness of her agony. Her blue eyes lock on her father's. They will close soon, never to open again. She will be the last of her name. The last of her house. She will be without the man who guided her and loved her when others mocked him for it.

“I will find the Septon so he can say a final prayer,” the maester pauses and then says, “You're father has always been so proud of you, Lady Brienne. Ever since I started working for him before you were born, I have only seen him truly beam when talking about you. Never doubt yourself, Lady Brienne, for your father never did.”

He walks out the door and leaves her alone with her father again. She climbs back on the bed, takes the spot she was in before Jaime came and holds Selwyn's hand against her heart. He lets out another moan, another noisy breath. She feels a single tear fall from her cheek to his.

The Septon comes quickly enough and says a quick prayer. She listens to the words, saying her own prayers as well. Please take care of my father, she asks the Seven. Please keep him safe until I see him again. The sun sinks low and paints the room in rich oranges and pinks. She gets up only when others come to pay their respects. Pod comes to see her, hugging her tightly. His face covered in tear tracks. He leans over to say goodbye to the dying Evenstar, thanking him for being so kind. Tyrion holds her hand and tells her that he is sorry. She knows he means it and nods. Ser Carlon kneels at the edge of the bed and whispers prayers, then he gets up and reaches for her hand. He kisses her knuckles, “You have my deepest condolences.”

The last one is Jaime. He doesn't enter the room; just waits patiently for her. She moves toward him, following him into the hall. He once again takes her hand in his, his heavy gold hand resting on her hip.

“If I could take this pain from you, Brienne, I would.” He leans forward and rests his forehead against hers. She closes her eyes. “I wish I had gotten more time to thank your father for you. I am so thankful he was crazy enough to let his daughter join Renly's camp.” She laughs through her tears. “If he had stopped you, I would never have met you and that... I can't imagine.” He pushes some of her hair back from her face. “Can I speak to him for a moment?”

Brienne nods. Jaime leans forward and kisses her cheek softly. He walks into the bedchamber. She can hear his voice, softly speaking to her father, but she can't decipher the words. When he comes back out again, he reaches for her, holding her close. She takes a deep breath. Gathering the strength she needs from him, taking what he is offering. Once she can stand on her shaky legs again, she backs away. He does not need her to say anything and she does not want to. She simply turns and walks into her father's room.

She closes the door with a soft click, glancing out the window as she passes. The moon is full and bright, stars twinkle and shine. The waters around Tarth are almost too still. She swallows against the lump in her throat. Her sire continues to try and live, his body struggling to stay with her. Her eyes well up when she realizes what she has to do. Brienne lays down and tries to tell him all she needs him to know.

“I love you, father,” she whispers into his ear. “I am proud to be your daughter. Thank you for letting me become a knight. I know it couldn't have been easy for you. Thank you for never hating me when I left to follow a dream. Thank you giving me the strength to be who I am. I will try and be half as good as you were leading this island. I will try to make you proud of me.” She closes her eyes and buries her head into his chest, pressing her ear over his heart. “If you do not have the strength to stay with me any longer, I release you so you can find the peace you deserve. Father... I will see you again. Tell mother and Galladon, I love them and miss them.”

She feels the last breath leave his body and breaks down. He is gone. “Goodbye,” she sobs.

***---***

The funeral for Lord Selwyn Tarth cases a shadow over the island. His death reaches every inch of the small land. Brienne kept to herself the first day after her father's passing, only speaking to the people she necessary to keep her home from falling into disrepair. Jaime takes notice of her appearance, when he can glimpse her in the following days. Her once sparkling blue eyes are dull and her face is always taunt with pain. Pod has been the only one to get close to her. Through him, Jaime has been kept up on her state of mind.

'She's tired,' Pod tells him daily. 'She's trying to be strong, but... I've never seen her like this.' He stops and looks at Jaime hard, 'Not even after you hurt her so much. I know my knight will do what needs to be done, but right at this moment, she's tired'

He feels tired himself. In the short time he was in Lord Selwyn's presence, he found himself wanting the man to like him. Not just because of his feelings for Brienne, but because he respected him. He wanted her father to be open to their relationship and to bless it, because he was a good man. He wanted Selwyn to feel like Jaime was also a good man- for his daughter and, if he does get her to marry him, for his island. When he went in to talk with the great Evenstar, before he left this world, Jaime let him know that he would do everything he could to protect Brienne and be the best man he could. Selwyn, barely conscious, moved his hand toward Jaime's and touched his fingers to the golden ones. He tapped the metal twice then faded away again.

He wells up with emotion just thinking about that moment. It was simple. It was acceptance he most definitely didn't deserve, but it made him feel like Selwyn saw him. The real him and he liked who he saw. And that meant so much to Jaime. Means so much to him. As people of all ranks come to the Sept to pay their respects to him, Jaime can't help but remember his own father.

Tywin Lannister, feared and followed, didn't have many cry for him when he died. The people didn't flood to see the family the way the people of Tarth were coming to see Brienne. Kings Landing barely noticed another noble death; it was common and not many minded the death of another Lannister. Yet here, on this tiny rock, everything stops to mourn a man who ruled for years. Jaime stands in a corner and watches. He was loved and loved these people he ruled just as much. His eyes shift to Brienne, holding vigil at her father's side, she is loved as well. Maybe at one point the people treated her with disrespect, but those days were gone now. He takes note of how even the poorest of people dressed in their best, parents stopping at the entry to wipe at dirt that sat on children's cheeks, before presenting themselves to their new Lady.

People now see her as she is. A warrior, a protector, a hero, a leader- their Evenstar- who is destined to lead them into the next generation with as much heart and passion as her father before her. He feels pride in that. It's not something Jaime helped flourish inside of her, it has been there since her first breath, but he is proud nonetheless because she is getting the recognition she deserves.

He stays at the door, waiting for hours. Just observing everything, observing her. She receives everyone's wishes of condolence with grace while holding back tears. He can tell that by how her jaw clenches, and the slight tremble of her hand as she speaks with each person. It's a balance of needing to be as strong as a leader should, and wanting so desperately to break down as a daughter would. Tyrion and Pod move over to his spot against the wall.

“Have you spoken with her yet?” His brother asks quietly.

He shakes his head, “No, net yet. I am waiting until there are not so many people.” Tyrion nods. “I also am not sure of what to say that I have not already. I told her I would be here for her, yet she has not called upon me. I do not want to force myself on her when she is already at the end of her tether.”

“You would not be unwelcome,” Pod tells him. “She needs all the support she can get.” He pauses, his brown eyes drop to the ground and he pulls his lip between his teeth, “I like him, but I believe Ser Carlon is interested in Ser Brienne. I think he will try to seek her hand if she is without a husband. It is known that Ser Brienne will need to wed...”

“You bring this up now,” Jaime asks, harshly. It is not the time to discuss romantic entanglements, but he can not deny the thought of her with someone else sends his blood rushing hotly through his veins. “I do not think...”

“Ser Brienne has mentioned it,” Pod interrupts and shuts Jaime's rant down. “She knows her duties. She knows she must produce an heir and secure the Tarth's legacy with marriage. I only bring it up now to make you aware that if you wish to seek her hand, you might have competition. In fact I know you will. Other Lords will start coming to the island. You know this as well.”

“The boy is right, dear brother,” Tyrion sighs. “She will get to mourn her loss for only a short while before duty will take hold. A marriage between nobles and an heir for Tarth, these tasks are waiting for her in a few moons.”

He goes cold inside. They were right of course. He knows this. It's his world as well. To secure her home, she must wed. To give her people security, she must have an heir. Brienne will be pressed and she will do what needs to be done... He straightens up and pushes a little away from the wall. His heart pounds in his chest. He starts to make his way over to her, when Ser Carlon takes her hand in his. His eyes narrow into slits as the younger man speaks to her, bowing at her feet. Jaime looks at Brienne, seeing the red rush into her cheeks. She glances around her and finds his eyes. Her face goes a little pale and she quickly shifts her big blue orbs from his green ones.

His heart sinks a little. A realization hits him full force: He could lose her. His hand starts to shake and he closes it into a fist to stop the motion. Carlon stands and kisses her knuckles; then he walks away. Jaime moves back to the wall. Brienne turns to him again and takes a deep breath. Her shoulders start to slump. His heart breaks watching her begin to crumble. All of his fears of losing her get wiped away. It isn't the time to think about that. Now he needs to be there for her. The time to convince her that he is the only one for her can wait... no matter what his dear brother or Pod might say.

***---***

The day seems to drag on as she stands by her father's body. The reality of what is happening sinks in slowly. There is no hiding any longer; she is the Evenstar. There is no one left to guide her. No one left she can turn to for advice on how to take care of the thousands of people on this island. So many lives rest in her hands... and she is terrified. Her mind wanders between the desire to run away and the knowledge that running isn't an option. Brienne has always believed that she would be ready when the time came to accept her birthright. Now she sees the folly in that. There is no way she could ever be ready for this moment.

The ceremony to make her the Evenstar is taking place the evening after her father is laid to rest in the tombs with her ancestors. Her insides have not stopped shaking since that piece of information was given to her. It will not be long after that a hunt for a husband will begin in earnest. Her duties were creeping in on her and she couldn't stop them any longer. This was always going to be her life and now, she must embrace it.

After a while, the Sept starts to clear out. The last of the mourners come to look upon Selwyn one last time. Pod and Tyrion finally make there way up to Brienne, each taking her in their arms, hugging her tightly before leaving her be. She closes her eyes against the waves of emotions. Her body is slowly going numb. Nothing feels real. It's all a dream that she couldn't wake up from and she desperately wants to. All the tears she's swallowed, all the fears she's pushed aside, all the emptiness she's tried to hide, rush into her. Her knees feel weak. Brienne can't take it anymore.

She makes sure she's alone, so no one can see her. Swiftly she heads toward the castle, heedless of anyone. She just needs to get into her bedchambers before the dam inside breaks and she floods the world with her feelings. She has no idea how she makes it to the door but is thankful for the small blessing in an otherwise horrible day. Brienne starts to push the door close with her back, but pressure on the other side stops it. Turning quickly she comes face to face with Jaime.

“Brienne,” he starts but then shakes his head and enters her bedchamber.

She's shaking at this point. Nothing is real. She feels numb, detached. She needs something real. She needs something that can remind her she's alive and not as dead as her soul believes. A choked sob escapes and she bends at the waist. The weight of everything pushing her down. He falls to the floor with her. His arms wrapping around her, holding her, giving her something to anchor to. Tears come in waves. Her face finds the side of his neck and she cries all her pain into the skin there.

“Jaime,” she sobs. Her strength gone. She's nothing, empty, alone. “He's gone. Oh Gods.” She grips the material of his tunic. “What am I going to do without him? How am I going to do this without him to show me how?”

He entangles his fingers in her hair, letting her take whatever she needs from him. “You will do it because you have to and you will be magnificent.” He pulls back and smiles at her through watery eyes. “Brienne, you are so much stronger than you know. The people of this island are going to thrive with you as their leader.”

His faith in her opens another dam. She looks down for a second then back into his eyes. The twin jade orbs hold so much love in them, she has to take a deep breath to stop herself from crying harder again. A flicker of life sways in her. The flame grows a little brighter the longer they hold each other. Her pain lessens and she chases after the relief. Her tongue comes out to roll over her lips. He watches the action. He watches her.

Without thought, she pulls him closer and kisses him. She surprises him. She can tell. The kiss is all her. Pressing into him, begging him to follow her lead. He does not take long to recover. His left hand tightens in her hair, fingers twisting hard. Pain sharpens her desire. The deadness eases more. Her soul awakens. She reaches for the edge of his tunic, yanking the material. She needs this. Oh Gods, she needs this. The warmth of Jaime. She's desperate to feel something other than what has been swallowing her whole since her father's last breath left his body. Their tongues meet and dance, first in her mouth and then in his. Home. It's like being welcomed back home. She moans, he answers with a growl. She shivers, he holds her tighter.

Her fingers pull and tug at the material. She breaks the kiss, panting. “Jaime...” It's a plea. It's a whine. It's her soul on a word. It's all she has to give.

“What is this, Brienne?” Jaime asks. His green eyes dark with want and with fear. She does not know what he is scared of. She does not care. She needs this. Doesn't he understand? How can she make him understand? She's dead inside, but there is a flicker. “Brienne...”

Her breathing is rough, tears threaten to fall again. The blackness of despair is hovering around the edges of her vision ready to snuff out the light she's found. Words from somewhere come to her and she says them, hoping it's enough, “It's what I need. It's a fantasy.” Please get it, Jaime. Please let me feel alive in your arms.

He gaze stays steady on hers. A beat. Two. Her pain crawls up her spine, the light sways and grows dimmer. She's losing herself again. Then, all at once, he's kissing her. His lips move against hers. The slide of his tongue over her bottom lip causes her to moan again. Yes! Her mind chants the word over and over. Yes!

She yanks at his tunic again, more forcibly than before. Off. She needs it off. Skin on skin is what she craves. He stops kissing her long enough to lift the shirt from his body. Her hands fall back to his skin. Warm. Alive. Yes. This is real. An anchor keeping her from floating away. He pulls her up off the floor and walks them back to her bed. Brienne eases back onto the mattress taking him with her. She can't lose the connection. He is her lifeline. Her north star. She helps him remove his metal hand, letting the heavy golden adornment land with a clunk on the ground.

Her fingers tug at the strings of the bodice of the simple dress she wore to the viewing. Jaime sucks in a breath as her small breast appear before him. She never believed her chest to be something a man would want to look at. She knows exactly how she compares to some woman- to someone like Cersei- but his eyes turn a shade darker, his Adam's apple bobs in his throat and his hand shakes a little when he touches her teats. She feels beautiful in that moment. He presses kisses to her neck, starting at her jaw and working his way down.

“My Brienne,” he whispers into her skin. She shivers. Her heart leaps in her chest. Her fingers stroke his back, sliding up and down the coiled muscles. “Yes, touch me. I want your hands on me.”

She arches into him as he lips reach the top of her right breast. So close. “Please...” Her voice is seeped in yearning. “Please...”

He opens her bodice more, using his left hand and his teeth to accomplish his goal of covering her entire body in kisses. She rolls her hips into his, gasping a little at the hard length she feels in his pants. She presses her hands into his chest and pushes him away. He stumbles back, confused. Brienne gathers the fabric of her dress and lifts it completely from her body. She didn't want slow. She wants to feel alive. His eyes widen at her actions, then he surges forward to cover her body with his again. Their naked chests rub against each other. Her nipples tighten, ache for his touch. He grants her unspoken wish and sucks one hard bud into his mouth while twisting the other between his thumb and forefinger.

Brienne digs her nails into his back, breaking the skin, leaving her mark. She lifts her hips into his once more. Her core, the most intimate part of her, is calling out to be touched. Wet heat floods the apex of her thighs. She moves her hands down his back, gripping his ass and pulling him forward. Frustration builds inside her. She wants him to fill her up and take all the emptiness away.

“Jaime,” she arches her spine, bringing them together where she wants him most. It's not enough though. It's not nearly enough. There are barriers between them. Clothes still block his hard cock from her weeping cunt. “Jaime now. I want you now.”

Help me feel alive.

Help me remember what is real.

He nods, “I know what you need, Brienne, but we have to go slow...”

She shakes her head. NO! He doesn't understand. Slow gives her time. Time leads to thinking. Thinking leads to remembering the fact she's alone. No! No! No! She rolls them over, kissing him hard. This moment is not about romance. It is about chasing the light. Banishing the darkness for as long as she can. Brienne straddles him, “Jaime, do you not want me?”

“Are you mad,” his voice is on the brink of breaking. He rests his stump and good hand on her hips and thrusts up. She closes her eyes as stars explode behind her lids. Fire barrels through her veins. “I want you. I will always want you.” She opens her eyes back up. “I just want to make sure you do not get hurt. You have to be ready.”

She takes his left hand from her hip and, after a moments hesitation, places it against the material covering her cunt. He rubs his thumb back and forth. “Do I feel ready?”

“Yes,” he dips a finger under the edge of her smallcloths and along the seam of her cunt. “You feel very ready.”

“Then please fuck me.”

He growls deep in his throat and rolls them back over. The last of his resolve snapping. He removes their remaining clothes with her help and she sighs in relief when his cock rubs against her entrance. Just as the head of his throbbing member enters her, he wraps her in his arms and rolls them again, putting her on top. Her eyebrows come together in confusion, he rubs the expression away with his thumb.

“You want to feel alive.” She nods. “I want to give you everything you need.” He grips his cock in his hand and urges her up just enough to put him back at her opening. She sinks down on him and nearly tears up at the sensation of being joined with this man. Her body adjusts quickly, recognizing his body. Her soul shakes off more darkness. “I love you.” He leans up and whispers into her chest. He kisses her skin, rocking his lower half into her. “Brienne, you are not alone. I am here. I am always going to be here.”

Her arms wrap around him. Her fingers bury themselves in his soft hair. Her head falls to his shoulder and she silently cries as he brings her back to life. The soft tears coat his back as she rolls and moves against him. Her long legs lock at the base of his spine, pressing every part of her to him. He is not fucking her. She realizes it. He makes her feel alive in another way. Slowing their union down so that she can take as much as she needs from him. Their mouths meet over and over. His pulls her bottom lip between his. A kiss as deep as it is sweet. His stump steadies her, his other hand glides over her body, tracing the lines and the scars which make up who she is. Her hands do the same to him. They map out the terrain of his skin, claiming the territories she finds.

“I love you,” he tells her. “I love you.”

“Oh Gods,” she clings to him. “I love you, too. So much. Jaime, please. I need you.”

“I'm here with you,” he nips at her earlobe as he talks. “You have me Brienne. You have me. Just as I have you.”

Her fingertips mark him with her touches. The scar above his brow- hers. The bite mark she leaves when he hits that spot inside of her which causes her body to flare up- hers. The way his heartbeat speeds up when she clenches her muscles on his cock- hers. The scratches on his shoulders from her nails- hers. She claims it all. Jaime Lannister- the only man she's ever wanted so deeply it hurts- hers. And she is his. She always has been. Since the moment he cried out sapphires to save her virtue from being ripped from her and lost his sword hand for his trouble. She has been since he jumped into a bear pit unarmed, and pushed her behind him. She has been for so long.

The slow roll of hips last until neither can take it any longer. She moves faster. Her body colliding with his. Skin slaps against skin. Sweat drips from their pores. Their kisses become more and more frantic. He rubs at the bundle of nerves at the apex of her thighs. Pressing just hard enough to send her soaring above the clouds. She screams his name. Her soul, once on the brink of death, fills with life. Her heart, too broken to feel anything, overflows with love. Her body, so weak and numb only hours ago, pulses with strength and her nerve endings tingle with sensitivity.

Jaime rolls her onto her back and thrusts wildly inside her. His cock reaching that spot with each rock of his hips. Brienne watches him lose control. Sees the moment when his peak hits him, his body tenses- going taunt as his seed fills her. She welcomes the warm rush. The feeling of him letting go in her sparks another climax from her. This is a first for them. When they were together in Winterfell, he was so careful, spending himself anywhere but in her. She never knew then that what she was missing. Now she knows. There is no turning back. She does not want to.

He collapses on top of her. Both feeling drained but also whole. He lifts his head from her shoulder and kisses her cheeks. It's only then she realizes she's crying again. He holds her to him as she gives into the sadness. She buries her face into his chest, wrapping herself around him again.

“I miss him, Jaime,” she says through the tears. “I miss him.”

He pulls away and she can see his green eyes shining with unleashed tears. “I know, Brienne.” He moves his body off of hers, taking her with him as he settles on his side. “I miss him too.”

Her body shakes as she continues to cry in his arms. The release of the last of her grief makes her feel heavy, tired; and before she knows it, she is falling asleep listening to Jaime's steady heartbeat and his words of love. It's the most peaceful she'll felt since he left her in Winterfell all those moons ago.

***---***

Chapter Text

The soft sounds of waves crashing and birds chirping wakes him up. Jaime rolls over without opening his eyes, and reaches across the bed for her. The space where Brienne should be is cold to the touch. He raises up, looking around the chamber. He sees her sitting in a high back chair with her knees pulled up to her chest, a robe around her hiding her body from him. The window in front of her is open, letting the sea breeze in. Her expression is far off. She is completely lost in her thoughts. He scoots to the edge of the bed and gets up, slipping on his smallclothes and walking over to her. She doesn't take notice of him until he is standing in front of her. She tilts her head up to look at him, and blushes at his state of undress.

He smiles a little at her. “What are you thinking about?”

Brienne turns back to stare at the water again, “I am thinking about how scared I am that I will fail my father and this island. I have always known I would eventually be the Evenstar, but I never thought I would do it alone.”

“I thought you realized last night,” he kneels down in front of her and takes her hand in his. “You are not alone. I will be a pain in your ass,” she closes her eyes and smiles. “For as long as you want me by your side.” He waits for her to open those beautiful eyes before continuing. “When we fought the army of the dead, I told you I would be honored to fight alongside of you. The truth is, I am honored to just be near you.”

“Jaime,” her eyes well up with tears and she quickly blinks them back. “I will soon have to find a husband. I will have to marry to ensure Tarth has an heir. I can not ask you to stand by and watch that.”

He sucks in a breath at her words. She is talking of marrying another. Jaime feels his heart break at the notion of another man touching her. The hazy image of another man holding her, loving her, filling her with a babe and growing old with her enters his mind like a racing horse. He wants to vomit. What did he have to do to get her to see that he is the one she should wed? His grip on her hand tightens a little and he looks deeply into her eyes. Brienne's insecurities are written boldly in her gaze. She does not trust what happened between them. His past mistakes have left her broken and unsure. The passion they shared the night before, the feelings they both feel, the connection which had been there between them since they were forced together all those years ago could not mend all he has damaged.

“Why would I stand by and watch? Why would I not be the one holding your hand as vows are being spoken?” Her mouth opens a little, her eyes widen. “Have you really not thought of me as your Lord husband? Am I not the one you want?” He leans forward, his mouth a breath from hers. “I know you are the only one that I want. You are the one I love.”

“Jaime,” she whispers his name. Each letter filled with emotion. “Do you really wish to be wed? To me?” She shakes her head. “I know that you think you love me, that you think this,” she waves a hand between them. “Will make you happy. But I am the same woman you left to go back to your sister. Nothing has changed, except I am now also responsible for the lives and well being of all who reside on this island.” She touches his face and he leans into her palm. “Tell me honestly, will being here, for the rest of your days, make you feel fulfilled?”

He doesn't hesitate. He doesn't have to. He knows his answer, his truth. “Yes.” She searches his eyes, and he keeps himself as still as possible while she looks for whatever she needs to find. Her blue eyes shine and she licks her lips. “I have lived without you and I do not care to experience that again. I have made a lot of foolish decisions, but leaving you crying in the snow is one of my worst.” Jaime lets go of her hand and runs his fingers through her blonde hair, pulling her the last inch towards him. They lips touch softly. He does not linger long because he has much to say. He needs her to understand. “I have loved you for so long. I did not always realize what I felt for you was love, for it was so much different than what I felt for Cersei, but the truth is, you have always held a place in my heart.” He rocks back on his heels and nods his head towards where Oathkeeper hung on her wall. “That sword was all I could give you before. It was not merely metal, a gift to help you complete your quest. It was me. I was giving you my heart.”

“You gave me Oathkeeper years before Winterfell.” She works over his confession, trying to find the falsehood in his words. “You can not mean that you loved me back then. You made it quite clear with whom you wanted to be with, and it was not me.”

“I did not know then,” he stands up and she follows him, wrapping her robe tighter around her body. “I did not let myself believe I could love another, but my heart knew what my head refused to admit. It took me too long to see the truth. I know this. I regret all the time spent fighting against it because I was too foolish. Others saw though. Bronn loved to make comments. Tyrion would send looks my way. Cersei even knew before me. I think that is why she disliked you so.”

Brienne bites her lip in thought, “She asked me if I loved you at Joffrey's wedding. She thought that's why I helped you. That I was secretly in love with you and wanted you to be mine even then.”

Jaime wants to smile. The expression hovers on his lips but he fights it back. Now isn't the time to latch on to that... but he will revisit it. Once they are man and wife. He will know if his sweet sister was right about his lady warrior's feelings. “Cersei always did get right to the point.”

“Yes, she did.” Brienne sighs and walks around him, pacing the floor. Her shoulders are tense under the thin material. He longs to run his hand and lips along the muscles, and feel them relax under his touch. She turns back to him and stops. “Tarth is not going to give you many adventures. Life here is very mild compared to life in other parts of Westeros. Jaime, this will be a quiet existence. I need you to understand that. And my responsibilities will be to the people of this island. Keeping them prosperous and safe.”

“Are you saying this because you think it will change my mind?” He asks, moving closer to her. “I do not need to be entertained. I have lived through many adventures. I have faced dragons for the Sevens sake. Nearly got burnt to death by one.” At her expression he waves his hand, dismissing the words as if he had just nearly scratched his elbow. “I have faced a horde of lifeless soldiers, and here I still stand. I believe a quiet life is just what this old man needs. But I do not believe that I will be tired with such a life, not with you at my side.”

The small beginnings of a smile lifts her lips. It's the first he has seen since her father passed, and it fills him with pride that he put it there. “You are hardly old, Jaime.” She touches his face, her fingers tracing the line of his beard-covered jaw. Her sapphire eyes sadden and she takes a step back. “I want to believe your words. I want so badly to forget how it felt to be left in the snow. I know that you did what needed to be done, but those moments are forever in my mind.” Brienne falls to the mattress and looks up at him. “I do not know how to stop my thoughts from seeing you ride away from me.”

He drops his head to his chest. “I can not change what I have done. I regret leaving you in that way, I broke your heart and mine, but I do not regret returning to Kings Landing. I had to give Cersei a chance, not because she was my lover, but because she was my twin and the mother of my children. I was taught that family came first from the only parent I had, and I believe that to be true.”

“Why did you not tell me that?” She asks with gentle tears falling from her eyes. “Why did you not let me in? Why did you decide to leave the way you did? Did you not trust me?”

“It was not about trust,” he kneels in front of her again and wipes the tears from her cheeks. “I did not know if I would live and there was a moment when I was sure I would die. I did not want you waiting for me. I wanted to give you a chance at a life. I thought that if you hated me, you could move on should I perish. I knew you would not let me go if I told you what I had planned. Or worse, you would follow me and put yourself in danger, and I could not let that happen.”

Anger flashes in her eyes and she pulls away from him. “You should have let me decide my own fate, Jaime!” He leans back as she stands again. “I should have decided if I followed you or not. If I wanted to wait for you or love another. It was not your right to choose my path for me.”

“I know.” He admits with a nod. “I know but I could not see you harmed. I had seen that enough, when those undead creatures swarmed you and I thought you lost during the battle.” Jaime takes a step toward her, and she moves to the right to avoid his touch. “I know it does not make what I did right, but I was thinking of you the whole time. I longed to be back in your arms. I thought of nothing else and rushed to Winterfell the first chance I got to try and prove to you that I wanted, that I want, only you.”

Brienne turns to him, her jaw slack, “You went to Winterfell?”

“Yes,” he uses her momentary shock to his advantage and moves swiftly over to her again. “I rode there as soon as I was able but you were gone. Sansa made me work hard to find out where you were. She almost did not tell me but I told her that I would find you anyway.” He slides his hand through her hair and pulls her head toward his. “I planned to tear Westeros apart to find you. I planned to spend my life getting you back. It is a plan that I have not given up on. If you will not wed me yet, I only ask you to not wed another. I know that I need to prove myself to you.” He kisses her quickly and passionately. Her eyes are slightly glazed over when he steps back. Jaime grins at the expression.

“How,” she pauses and licks her lips. “How do you plan to do that?”

His grin expands a little larger on his lips. “I plan to court you.”

“Court me,” she draws out the words, as if testing the sounds out for the first time.

“Yes, My Lady,” he bends at the waist and kisses her knuckles while keeping his eyes on hers. “I plan to make you realize that I love you and am the only man for you.” She opens her mouth to respond but before she can, he kisses her passionately again. They break apart panting and rest their foreheads against each other. “You are mine, Brienne of Tarth and I am yours. I just have to make you believe that fully.”

Jaime reluctantly moves from her embrace and quickly dresses, with her watching him closely. He gives her one last kiss to her knuckles, then leaves her chambers. He has plans to make and she has her own thoughts to sort through.

Brienne watches the young men practice with Ser Carlon. She analyzes every swing of the sword, every parry, every advance. Some of these boys will be sent to squire at other houses, some will return to their homes only having learned from Ser Carlon, but all will represent Tarth. She smiles a little. Her father would be proud of them and so is she. Carlon looks over and catches her gaze. She nods to him. He pats a boy on the shoulder, explaining a maneuver to him. The boy with sandy blonde hair nods eagerly and turns back to his sparring partner.

Carlon makes his way toward her and she straightens a bit. “Ser Brienne,” he greets. “It's good to see you. I was worried about you after the funeral. Some mentioned you were very distraught and left in a hurry.”

“It was a very trying day,” she says with a tiny frown. She had really hoped no one had witnessed her break down, but she guesses that hope is now dashed. “I am doing as well as can be expected.”

“Of course,” he looks into her eyes for a long time and sighs. “I know now is not the best time, but I wanted to ask you a question.” She waits, unsure, then nods. “I have seen how Ser Jaime is with you. He is clearly in love with you. I am most curious if you are in love with him as well, or if I have a chance of winning your hand.”

Her heart pounds as his words settle into her brain. “Ser Carlon, I am most flattered by your interest, but...”

“You are in love with him as well,” he finishes without any sense of anger. His voice is just resigned.

“I am,” she admits for the first time out loud to someone other than Jaime. “I sometimes wish I could love another, for he is not the easiest person, but my heart has always been true.” Brienne takes his hand in hers and smiles softly. “You are a good man, and I know you will find someone who loves you as you deserve to be loved.”

“And Ser Jaime is a lucky man to have won your heart so completely. It is not difficult to understand, it will, however, be difficult to witness you with him.”

A strong fear grips her and she looks at him intently. “Are you thinking about leaving as master at arms? I wish for you to stay! You have done an incredible job with these young men and I would hate to lose you because of my foolish heart.”

He smiles at her, his eyes telling her the truth before the words can be uttered. “I am afraid I must be moving on, for it is not only your heart that is foolish. I have seen the beauty of this island, and it is not in the clear oceans or the stunning waterfalls, it is in you. I never thought I would find myself so besotted with you when we met, but your spirit is hard to deny.” He kisses her hand, “Had I been a smarter man, I would have asked you for a chance before he could claim your heart.”

“There is nothing I can say that will change your mind?”

Carlon shakes his head and sighs, “I am sorry but no. I will stay on until you can find a replacement. I wish no harm to come to these boys and their development.”

Brienne nods, resigned. “Of course. Thank you. I am sorry to see you go, but I do understand not wanting to stay. You have given these young men a great foundation to learn from and I am so happy to have met you.”

“And I you,” he grins at her. The expression is full of sorrow but also kindness. “I only wish things would have ended differently.” His eyes hold hers. “I do not think I will find another woman like you.”

“Some consider that a blessing,” she tries to make light of it, but the bitterness she feels at all those gaffs made at her expense seep into her tone. “Most think one is more than enough.”

“Then those people are fools and have but a small brain residing in their head.” Brienne smiles for real at that. He is being honest and true. It is not what she is used to. She would never be one to have men fall at her feet, but in her lifetime she has had three men notice her and that is something her younger self would have never believed. “I must be getting back. The sun is going down and I have much more to teach before I go.”

She nods. Her throat thick with emotion. She will miss him, but she does not blame him for needing to go. Brienne more than anyone knows the pain of wanting someone who wanted another. She did not wish that fate on anyone, especially not on someone as kind hearted as Ser Carlon. She turns around and walks out of the practice yard. Her mind full and her heart aching a little.

Another dilemma has been added to her list. She will have to find a new master at arms. This is not what she needed...

Jaime sits with his brother at the pub, drinking the warm ale in his stein. Tyrion looks over at him with shrewd eyes and tilts his head. He refills his goblet of wine before speaking in a slow way.

“So you are going to beguile her into believing that what you did at Winterfell was a lapse of good judgment? And you are going to use courting as a means to do that?” Tyrion frowns a little in thought.

He swallows the mouthful, “That was the plan from the beginning. It has just been hurried up in light of Brienne's situation. I will not have her marry another, not when I know we are meant to be.” He shrugs. “I am the only one who can make her happy. I know that. She knows that deep down. I just have to remind her of the fact.” Jaime leans forward placing his beer stein down. “Why, do you not think I can convince her?”

Tyrion pulls the goblet back to his lips and gulps a generous amount down. “I think the smartest thing you ever did was choose Brienne; and one of the least intelligent moves was to go back to Cersei any way. I believe you have a chance, dear brother. If I did not, I would not be here right now. I just hope you understand all this will bring to your life.” He takes another gulp of wine before placing it on the table in front of him. “She is not just the lady warrior who battled the dead bravely. She is now a leader of an entire island and you will be her second. She will look to you for help and guidance, and she will need you to be at her side. Are you willing to stay here forever?”

“She asked the same,” Jaime grumbles in frustration. “Both of you act as if I hunt out wars to fight. I would have stayed at Winterfell with her if not for the war which would have killed innocents. I have fought enough. I have lost enough in doing so. I do not wish to lose anymore. I want to be with her. I want to watch her take this island to new heights and yes, I want to be at her side through it all. Why do you question me, brother?” His voice is passionate and angry by the end. He takes a moment to gather himself. He narrows his eyes at his brother's grin. “Something funny, imp?”

Tyrion shakes his head. “I just never heard you speak with such passion about something other than fighting.” He grips his glass in his small hands again. “I am sure you will win over Ser Brienne with no problem if you turn that passion on her.”

Jaime relaxes his muscles. “You were testing me?”

“I was making sure you were sure,” Tyrion looks him in the eyes. “Brienne has a stubborn heart and that heart has chosen you for some unknown reason.” Jaime narrows his eyes. “I have seen how Ser Carlon looks at her. He has feelings for her.”

“I know,” Jaime says with some irritation. “I have seen how he looks at her as well. She is a special woman. He is not the first to see it. Tormund saw it as well.”

“And she chose you,” Tyrion acknowledges. “She will choose you again. As I have stated, her heart is stubborn. Jaime, you must be sure of your love because Brienne's spirit is fragile right now.”

“I do not plan to hurt her.”

“Good,” his brother sips his wine. “You have been given a second chance. Do not ruin it.”

Jaime glances down for a moment, thinking over his brother's words. Yes, he has been given a second chance, and he makes a promise with himself to not take it or her for granted. Meeting Tyrion's eyes, he nods. He understands.

Brienne paces anxiously in her father's- she pauses, her breath catching- her solar. Her mind is worrying over all the things she has to do and how little time she has to complete them. The walls are closing in on her. She takes a deep calming breath and closes her eyes. She can do this. Her father believed in her. Jaime believes in her. Pod believes in her. Now, she needs to believe in herself.

It is not an easy thing to do. She has always second guessed herself in all things except for fighting. She knows she is a great fighter. She knows how to move with a sword in hand. It came to her as easily as breathing.

Being a leader... that is not as easy. While in Winterfell, she gained some confidence. She trusted Sansa's belief in her abilities to train an army and lead them into battle. Brienne took what she learned watching Jaime and others, and let it help guide her decisions. But she really believed in herself when Jaime told her he would be honored to serve under her, to fight with her commanding.

Brienne straightens her shoulders and sits down at the large desk. She pulls some of the papers toward her and begins to read over the ledgers. She takes her quill, making notes as she goes. It starts to make sense. All those months learning at her father's side, all those days listening to his advice, comes back to her in a flood. She finds herself more and more at ease with the task at hand.

Hours elapse, as her shoulders start to ache from being bent over and her eyes glaze over. She stretches her arms above her head, closing her eyes as she moves. The muscles release and she lets out a moan of relief.

“I do love hearing that sound,” her eyes spring open. Jaime is leaning against the door frame, dressed casually in a plain tunic and a pair of riding pants. He moves into the room, dominating her vision. “Are you almost finished?”

“I am,” she nods. Her breath catches as he leans over and plucks the quill from her fingers. She didn't even realize she was still holding it. He replaces it in the inkwell before locking his eyes with hers again. Brienne licks her lips. “What are you doing, Jaime?”

“I told you this morning,” he moves around the desk and whispers in her ear. “I am courting you.” She shivers a little at the feel of him so close. “Come.” He helps her from her chair and wraps his arms around her. “I have plans for you.”

“What kind of plans,” she asks. Her voice is husky and thick.

“Well first, this,” he kisses her soundly, robbing her of the ability to think. She is breathless when he pulls back. Her mind is foggy and sluggish. He smiles at her. “I love how your eyes look after we have kissed.”

“How do they look?”

“Soft,” he brushes a strand of hair from her forehead. “Filled with love and want.”

She can not deny that. She is filled with want and love for him. “What else do you have planned?”

He takes her hand and leads her from the solar. “Come with me and find out...”

Brienne bows her head a little, her blush heating up her cheeks. She would follow him anywhere. And she does.

The blanket he has set up on the beach is facing the setting sun. There is a small basket on the edge, resting in the soft sand. He smiles at her. “I am sure you have had nothing to eat all day. The servants were most concerned when you did not come down for lunch.”

“I did not even realize it was so late in the day.” Brienne says as he motions for her to sit down, facing toward the large orange sphere.

“Well as your soon-to-be Lord husband,” she shakes her head at him, but a smile lifts her lips at the same time. “I know it is my duty to make sure you are taken care of.” He pulls the basket closer and grabs a small bundle of food. In the handkerchief are some cheese and dried meats. Jaime curls around her. His body flush with hers. She sighs, sinking into his embrace. Jaime opens the pouch of food with her help, laying the open cloth next to them. He takes a strip of meat and holds it up to her lips. She reaches for it, but he pulls back. “I am taking care of you remember.”

“Jaime,” she says exasperated. “I can feed myself.”

“I do not agree with you,” he kisses the skin of her neck. “If you could, you would have eaten lunch and not worried the servants so.”

“I was busy and it slipped my mind.” She turns her head toward him. “It is not like I did it on purpose.”

“And yet, here we are,” he kisses her mouth quickly, then holds the food to her lips again. She frowns at him, but opens her mouth and he slowly feeds her. He watches as she wraps her lips around the meat, his fingers brushing against the plump pillows of flesh. Jaime gets hard thinking of that mouth wrapping around another body part. Her eyebrow arches as she chews. He knows she feels his reaction. He clears his throat and takes a piece of meat for himself. “So how was your day?”

She swallows her mouthful and sighs, “I will need to find a new master at arms.”

“Oh, why is that?” Jaime internally cheers. He will not have to see Carlon pining after his soon-to-be wife.

“Because of you actually,” she reaches for a wedge of cheese, he slaps her hand away and grabs it himself to feed her again. She rolls her eyes and sighs again, but accepts her fate. Jaime grins in triumph. “He does not want to watch me with you. It seems my feelings for you are pretty obvious and he has, for some reason unknown to me, developed feelings for me.”

“Unknown?” Jaime shakes his head. “You still have no idea just how amazing you are.” Her cheeks flush and her eyes dart away from his. “Brienne,” he waits until she looks at him again. “You are incredible. You are kind and loving and smart. You are wholly unique in all the best ways. I wish you could see yourself as I see you.”

Tears well up in her eyes. She brushes her fingertips along his jaw. “I wish the same for you.”

He has to swallow roughly to stop the emotion from overwhelming him. “I love you.”

She laughs a watery laugh and kisses him briefly. “I love you too.”

They finish their picnic by the ocean, watching the sun creep out of view. Jaime pulls her against him once the food is done and holds her tightly. The waves crashing into the shore the only sound. He has never felt more at peace than he does at that moment. Brienne leans her head back and buries her nose into the curve of his neck and sighs. This is where they belong.

Brienne's life stays busy for the next six moon turns. She is officially given the title of Evenstar in a ceremony in the Sept. Many of the people from her island show up to watch the moment. Jaime, Tyrion and Pod are in the front row, grinning at her as the Septon places the ancient necklace of crescent moons and starburst around her neck. She looks down at the gold and sapphire jewelry with pride. It has been in her family for generations and now she will wear it. The cloak with the House of Tarth colors is placed around her shoulders as the final prayers get spoken.

She tries not to cry, but can not quite help the tears which leak from her eyes. Since taking over for her father, she finally feels like she will make her ancestors proud. And that is an overwhelming feeling.

During that time, Jaime has also been diligent in his courtship of her. He comes to make sure she never misses lunch or dinner, pulling her from a meeting if need be. She is always embarrassed by that, but her people find it charming and will more often than not beg her to listen to, the handsome man. Because they agree she needs to take care of herself. Jaime enjoys that greatly. The people of the Tarth have embraced the Golden Lion of House Lannister as one of their own so quickly it makes her head spin a little. Jaime naturally stepped into the role of master at arms when Ser Carlon finally left. That day was hard for the young children- as there are now girls in the yard at Jaime's insistence- but they soon learned just how talented with a weapon he is and came around quickly to their new teacher. His patience with them and his excitement at seeing each of them get a new move correctly is easy to see; and makes her acutely aware of how he would be with their own children- should they have any.

Their time alone together is always a bright spot in her day. They rarely do anything much. Sometimes they ride through the countryside, which gives Brienne a chance to show off her island- the home she loves- to him. Sometimes they swim in an isolated cove, where the waterfall hides them when they want to explore each other. Other times they walk along the ocean's edge, just talking about their days or whatever comes to mind. They are quiet moments, but they fill her with joy.

The one thing they have not done is fuck again... this is her one frustration. Both long to be intimate with each other, but Brienne- in all her foolishness- requested that they refrain from that until their wedding night. For she knows as he does that they will wed. Her love for him runs too big and too deep, and she has come to believe his does as well. She almost wishes he would not have listened to her. When he leaves her at night, her wanting him so much she can barely stand it, it takes all her willpower not to chase after him and demand he finish what he has started.

It is leaving her on edge. The constant buzzing in her when he kisses or touches her is enough to drive her mad. Why she thought this would be a good plan, she has not a clue. She regrets her decision daily. She watches him help a young girl grip her tourney sword the right way and smiles at how happy he looks. There is an ease to his movements, a confidence. She knows now that he will find fulfillment on her island, and the last of her questions about them fade into the background.

The children finish their lessons and put their swords away. Jaime makes sure the armory is locked up then turns around and sees her for the first time. His grin in her direction makes her stomach flip. She blushes and shakes her head at herself. When would she stop being embarrassed that he wanted to be with her? He walks up to her and kisses her slowly. Brienne's heart pounds in her chest. She wraps her arms around him, pulling him as close as possible.

“I've missed you,” he murmurs against her lips.

She laughs, “We just saw each other mere hours ago.”

“Yes,” he nods. “Hours ago. Too long to not have you in my arms.”

Brienne closes her eyes and leans her forehead against his. “Ask me again.”

He pulls back and looks at her. His green eyes lock on her blue ones in question then light up when he sees her intent. “Brienne of Tarth, Evenstar, my Lady, will you be my wife?”

Her heart, which was pounding only moments ago, slows down to a normal beat. This is right. There is nothing to fear. She grins at him. “Yes, Ser Jaime of House Lannister, I will be your wife.”

“Finally,” he whispers against her lips before stealing her breath in a kiss that leaves her weak. Once he pulls back again he arches his brow, “Is a betrothal close enough to the wedding for my lovely bride-to-be? Because I really need to fuck you now...”

She laughs, “Gods yes!”

He takes her hand and they run to her bedchamber. They have months to make up for and Brienne hopes it will be a long night in the arms of her betrothed. Jaime puts those thoughts to rest as he slowly makes love to her until both are exhausted.

“I love you,” he whispers into her shoulder just before she falls asleep.

“I love you,” she replies, content for the first time in her life. She has finally found her place.

Chapter Text

The planning of the wedding of the Golden Lion and the Evenstar takes very little time- with the day being one moon turn from when they were betrothed. Neither Brienne nor Jaime care to prolong the wait, they had waited for each other long enough. They just want to be together. Brienne does ask Sansa to come, telling her that she would delay the ceremony if her friend could make it, but the young Warden of the North is unable to attend. The time to prepare is not enough for Sansa, but she does promise to come visit as soon as she can. This announcement makes Tyrion more than a little anxious. Brienne thinks it's cute how flustered the dwarf got at the mention of his former wife.

Podrick is near tears when Brienne asks him to give her to Jaime. She tells him that he is the closest she had to a family, and it would please her if he would act as her brother. Podricks hugs her tightly and agrees almost immediately- after he stops choking up. The young man who Brienne was forced at one point to look after, was now one of the most important people in her life. The wedding itself is a quiet affair. Only two people attend, besides the Septon and the spouses-to-be. Tyrion stands at Jaime's side and Pod at hers.

Her life as Evenstar becomes, if not easy, more comfortable. She learns how to rule, with Tyrion and Jaime giving her advice when she needs it. The people of Tarth seem to thrive and she takes pride in every smile she sees. All those fears of being a failure fade. She can do it, she actually believes that now.

The only downside is the lack of time with Jaime. Harvest season is coming up and preparations take time. She is often pulled to different parts of the island, to ensure that all the farmers are doing well and nothing is needed. A couple of late spring storms damaged some lands, so she makes trips to those areas frequently and comes back home exhausted.

His position as master at arms did help though. They would schedule “meetings” whenever possible to spend an afternoon in each others arms. Brienne is at first embarrassed that most of the servants know these meetings rarely involved talking but soon she comes to realize it does not matter. It isn't their place to gossip about their Evenstar's love life and besides Brienne is happy. And that's all her people want for her.

The day that Sansa arrives is a joyous occasion. Brienne did not realize how much she missed her friend until she is standing in front of her. Tyrion and Sansa spend many hours together, walking along the bluffs and in the fields of wildflowers. Brienne points out to Jaime, late one night, that she believes another Lannister will marry before the year is complete.

“You think Tyrion will propose to Sansa?” He asks while curled around her in the soft moonlight that streams in from their chamber window.

“Yes,” Brienne smiles when he presses a kiss to her shoulder blade. “I think he wishes they were still wed now.”

“I think,” he helps her roll over until she is under him. “I am wedded to a romantic who wants to see love in all places now that you are so happy yourself.”

She shrugs, sighing as he kisses her. “We shall see.”

They do not talk much after that.

Two moons into the autumn season, Jaime notices Brienne's mood shift. She becomes forlorn and quiet. He tries to speak with her about the change, but she always brushes him off, claiming to just be tired from the day. Their nights together become less about making love, and more about sleep. He worries over her and misses their closeness.

The only time she smiles at him freely during these days, and that smile comes with a hint of cockiness, is when Sansa and Tyrion announce their intention to remarry. The dwarf's eyes have never appeared more excited than as he held the young Stark's hand. It is easy to feel the affection they have for one another and Jaime can not be more happy for his brother. Tyrion deserves to be in love with someone who can see the man he is... Just as Brienne sees Jaime for who he is.

Jaime congratulates his brother and soon-to-be good sister, when Sansa pulls him aside, “You need to speak to Brienne. She is feeling a bit lost and does not know how to talk to you about it.”

“I have noticed, but she does not want to explain what is wrong to me.” Jaime glances at his wife as she bends down to hug Tyrion. “Do you know why she is acting as she is?”

“I do,” Sansa admits. At his hopeful gaze, she shakes her head. “You need to talk with her. It is not my place to tell you. She is hurting and scared and does not want to disappoint you.”

That makes him uneasy and confused. Why would she even believe she could disappoint him? He nods to Sansa and makes some plans. Later that day, he takes Brienne to a dune on an isolated stretch of beach. She holds herself away from him and moves to sit on the edge facing the sun. Jaime sighs at the distance, taking his place next to her on the dene.

“Brienne,” he reaches out to her, taking her hand in his. “Please tell me what is wrong.”

She looks quickly at him then back at the gently breaking waves, “I do not know how to tell you. I am afraid of how you will take this news.”

“Just tell me,” he urges. “I will not be upset. Nothing you can do will upset me. I love you and we are better together. I do not know much, but this is a truth I can speak to strongly.”

“I...” she takes a deep breath, meeting his eyes. “I thought I was with child. I was feeling very tired and some foods were making me feel very ill, but when I went to the maester... he said I was not. I fear I may never be able to give you a babe. I know how much you want that and I want that as well.” Tears fall down her cheeks and he lets go of her hand to wipe them away. “What if I am a failure as a woman and can not bare a child? What if I can not give you a lion cub of your own? You deserve to be a father, Jaime.”

Relief and sadness wash over him in waves. Relief because she is fine and this is a problem they can solve together. Sadness because he wishes she had been with a babe. The idea of her belly swollen with his child fills his heart with joy. She would make a wonderful mother. He pushes some hair behind her ear and smiles at her.

“I wish you would have told me,” he presses a long kiss to her lips. “I would have been with you, happily.” Their foreheads touch as he continues. “Having a babe can take time, my love. Sometimes it happens quickly, sometimes not. I do not fear you being a failure at anything. When it is right, we will have a babe of our own. You say I deserve to be a father, I feel the same about you being a mother. You have so much love to give.” He pulls back and gives her a look that makes her blush. “Making a babe requires some time... care to go back to our chambers and get started?”

“I would like that very much, Lord Lannister,” she takes his hand.

Together they slowly make their way back to the castle. The moment they enter the bedchamber, he makes sure she knows how much he enjoys filling her with his seed... as many times as it takes to get her with child. It is a duty he finds most pleasurable.

By winter, Sansa and Tyrion stand by the Weirwood tree in Winterfell, swearing to the old Gods and the new to love each other to the end of their days. Brienne watches as Tyrion takes Sansa's face between his hands and kisses her to seal their vows. Happiness fills her with warmth even as she shivers under her layers of furs. Jaime shifts closer to her, giving her some of his body heat. She leans into him, smiling at her husband. She thanks the Seven everyday that he is hers.

The feast is loud, with the northern folks embracing the new member of the Stark family. Sansa and Tyrion agree that she should keep her name, as there should always be a Stark in Winterfell. Behind closed doors, however, Sansa proclaims herself Lady Lannister. Brienne understands, for she has done the same. Tarth will be ruled by a Tarth... but to Jaime, she is Lady Lannister. She is his as he is hers. In the late hours of night, she is his lioness and he is her lion.

Brienne stands in a familiar room. The fire blazes in the hearth, and a feeling of unwanted sadness sweeps through her. Sansa offered her another room, but Brienne shook her head. She wants to wipe away the bad memories and replace them with happier ones.

Jaime enters the room. She turns to him. The moment stretches, as the weight of their last time there hangs in the air. He takes a step closer to her and she takes one closer to him. They are slow in their movements. Each knowing what the other needs. Jaime needs to know what he did will not be between them any longer; and she needs to know that he will never leave her like that again.

The love they make is slow and full of passion. A caressing of bodies, murmurs of words, looks of longing. Brienne feels cleansed of the past, bathing in his love. Jaime's eyes shine, and she knows this is how she will remember this chamber now. The last of the pain from that night is eased from her heart. All she can feel now is happy... and loved.

She touches his face as he moves within her. “I love you, Jaime. I think I have always loved you.” He pauses and she grins up at him. “Even when I wanted to gag you during our trip back to King's Landing.”

He laughs, kissing her deeply and resumes, making her toes curl. “I love you as well, Lady Lannister.” He brings her to her peak and she moans his name. “I will love you for the rest of my days and into the afterlife.”

Her name falls from his lips as he spills his seed in her. Brienne holds him tightly. This is how life is meant to be. Just them in each other's arms. This moment was worth all the tears and all the heartbreak. This is what she has always wanted. A man who loves her and one she loves just as much.

Some time later, as they lay together, he traces the line of her shoulder with the tip of his finger. “You once told me that Cersei thought you loved me, at Joffrey's wedding.” She watches as he tries to appear innocent. “You just admitted she was right.” His lips curl into a self-satisfied smile. “I have had your heart for a long time, Lady Lannister.”

Brienne rolls her eyes, “You said I had yours for just as long.”

He nods, “Yes.” Jaime leans forward but stops before he touches his lips to hers. She feels a little put out that he does not kiss her. “I have loved you for just as long. Our hearts were much more intelligent than our heads were I am afraid. Think of how much different our story would have been if we had just stopped fighting what was between us.”

“I think,” she rubs his bottom lip with her thumb. He kisses the pad of her finger. “I think we had to fight for this moment. The struggle makes this bliss all the sweeter.”

His green eyes brighten with tears that he quickly blinks back. The kiss he places on her lips tells her he agrees. They have earned this. This love, this life... they have earned it all.

At the start of spring, Brienne starts to feel ill. Jaime waits by as she holds the chamber pot and wretches into it. Her face is the palest he has ever seen it be. Sweat makes her hair stick to her forehead as she looks over at him in misery. He wipes a cool cloth over her face and neck, feeling helpless. She turns to place the pot on the floor. He takes it from her and she lets out a sound of embarrassment.

He kisses the top of her head, “You have seen me at my worse, my love. Cleaning me up when I wanted to die. This is nothing.”

“Jaime...” She rolls onto her side. “Why can I not get well?”

“I can get the maester,” he starts to stand, but she catches his hand.

“Please stay,” she voice is weak from being so sick. “I want you here. Please.”

He nods. He will do anything for her. Jaime climbs behind her and holds her close. His hand brushes her chest and she inhales sharply. “Are you okay?”

She moans a little, her neck flushes. “My breasts feel tender.”

He raises up and looks down at her. His mind races... the dots connect and he can hardly breathe. “Brienne...” She looks at him in confusion. “Have you had your moon's blood?”

Her eyes go wide and she looks at him in awe. “No.” She bites her lip. “I have not for a couple moons... since...”

“Winterfell,” he finishes. At her nod, he laughs in pure joy. “I must find the maester.” Jaime leaps from the bed, but not before kissing her soundly. “I love you!”

She laughs as he races to find the medicine man.

Brienne rubs her swollen belly as Jaime teaches his students a new maneuver. The young girl with dark brown hair and a toothless grin does it perfectly on her first try. Her husband beams at the girl. “Excellent, Amberlin!”

He turns to help another child and Amberlin sticks her tongue out at her brother, Bricklin. Brienne laughs to herself. She moves closer to the fence surrounding the practice yard. Her eyes moving from pair to pair. The young boys and girls were gaining speed and she notices how much they loved to ask Jaime questions about his experiences. She smiles softly as he takes his time with each one.

After the practice is done and all the swords are put away, Jaime turns to her. His face shows his fatigue, but his smile is as bright as the sun in the sky as soon as he sees her. He wraps her in his arms, kissing her temple. His hand rests on the side of her stomach. He falls to his knees and speaks to her large belly, “How is my little cub? Are you ready to come see us yet?”

Brienne runs her hands through his soft hair. He looks up at her. “We still have some time, my love.”

“Yes,” he nods. “But I long to see our babe in your arms.” He stands, keeping his hand on her stomach. “I have missed you.”

She smiles, wrapping her arms around his neck. “You say that every day, Lord Lannister.”

“And I mean it every day, Lady Lannister,” he kisses her nose. “How have you been feeling? You mentioned some pain this morn.”

“My back,” she sighs. “It comes and goes. I am feeling quite well right now.”

“Good,” he kisses her again. “Are you hungry, my love?”

“For food,” she nods then arches one eyebrow. “And for other activities.”

His grin makes her weak in the knees. “Oh, Lady Lannister,” he kisses the side of her neck. “That will not do. As your Lord husband, I should make sure you feel very satisfied.” He bites at the sensitive skin just below her right ear. “I think I shall ask the servants to bring our supper to our room.”

“That would be very kind.”

He pulls back. “I live to please you, my Lady.”

She blushes, but recognizes the truth of his statement. He really does live to please her. And please her he does.

Jaime paces the length of their chamber as she screams again. The midwife and maester shove him aside and Brienne lets out a loud moan of pain. The Evenstar has been birthing their babe for what feels like days and Jaime is going out of his mind. The blood covering the linen under her, turns his stomach and makes him pray to the Gods that she will be alright. Her blonde hair is dark from all the sweat, her face is lined with the tracks of her tears. Her face is too pale. His heart is bursting in his chest. He can not lose her. Fear rips him apart. He can no longer take the distance and urges the midwife out of the way, taking Brienne's hand. She looks up at him with gratitude.

Their hands clasp together tightly as another jolt of pain shoots through his wife. She bends in on herself, pushing with all her might to bring their child into the world. He kisses her hair, counting in his head. He reaches three and thirty before she relaxes, falling against the pillows which are supporting her back... And a loud scream cuts through the air. The babe, red and so small, wiggles and lets out a loud cry.

“It's a boy,” Maester Jonah says with a smile. Brienne leans forward quickly to see the innocent life they created. Jaime can feel the tears welling up, gazing down at the perfect babe. Ten fingers, ten toes, a patch of light hair upon his head. Beautiful. Theirs. Always. The master of medicine places the babe in the midwife's arms to clean, when Brienne cries out again, as another sharp pain makes her clench his hand tightly. He pulls his eyes from the tiny babe and looks at his wife. The maester moves quickly back to her side. “Twins,” he breathes.

Blood rushes from his face and he feels lightheaded. Twins? Brienne bares down, her teeth clench and her eyes screwed shut. Another piercing scream rips from her, as she uses what is left of her strength to bring another life into the world. Jaime whispers in her ear, “You are incredible, my love. You are perfect. Please stay strong.”

She nods even as she starts to go limp from the strain and the blood loss. His heart stops beating. He starts praying anew. I need her. I can not live without her. Please, if anyone is listening, do not take her from me... Tears threaten to fall freely, his eyes are glazing over and he fights to hold them back. This is his wife. This is his world. Brienne touches his cheek, her fingers cool against his heated flesh.

“I am taking but a moment to catch my breath,” she kisses him briefly. Their eyes meet and she smiles tiredly at him. “I can not leave you with two babes to care for. They will be jumping off cliffs and swinging swords before they can walk.”

He laughs, kissing her again more soundly. “Yes, my lovely wench. I need you here to keep us all alive.”

She turns toward the Maester Jonah and clenches her teeth again. It is not long after that another cry is heard in the chamber. Their second babe enters the world much in the same way their first boy does. Tiny fists shaking and loud squeals. “Another boy,” Jonah says happily to his Evenstar and her husband.

The midwife cleans up both their sons and places one on Brienne's chest and the other in his arms. Jaime can not take his eyes from the tiny bundle in his arms. Perfect. He sits next to his wife and their other son on the bed, turning towards her. Brienne's eyes are wide and glistening with tears. Jaime can not help but think he does not deserve this life... but he will cherish it always.

Brienne holds Galladon in her arms, the babe suckling at her teat, as Jaime wraps Tybolt in a warm blanket. She leans back watching her husband carefully tend to their son. His shoulders are tight, his fear about doing something wrong clear. She waits until he turns back to her. He settles on the bed next to her and she leans over, caring to not disturb the babes between them and kisses his cheek.

“You are going to be a wonderful father, Jaime,” she makes sure to catch his eyes, so he knows she believes what she says. “These babes are blessed to have you.”

“And you, my love.” He presses a long kiss to her lips.

She sighs happily, resting her head against his shoulder. Against all odds, the girl who was told she would never find love, did. She is where she belongs, with a man who sees her flaws and loves her anyway, just as she does him. Jaime found her as he left her and through his love, mended her heart and gave her everything.

- The End