@singxfus || moved from legacy
She does not respond, for the moment her head is upon her chest, sleep pulls her under.
It only holds her for a few hours, but when she does eventually stir, she feels a little better and carefully disentangles herself from Jaime’s arms, slowly so as not to wake him.
Rising from the bed, she wraps a robe about herself, moving to look out of the window. The moon hangs high in the sky now, illuminating the melting snow in the courtyard below. A glance to the left of the stables tells her the old maester is still awake, if the orange glow about his door is enough to go by.
She looks back at her sleeping husband, weighing her options. She could return to his arms, remain at his side. Or, she could visit the maester now, to put her racing mine at ease. She chooses the latter and instead moves to find her boots, slipping them on and leaving the room.
The vial presses into her palm and only then does she realise she is squeezing it and quickly loosens her grasp, for fear of shattering it. The maester had given it to her without question the moment he had diagnosed her condition. He knew she was in the Queensguard, knew she could not…
She only just makes it back to their chambers before the tears finally start to flow in a relentless torrent down pale cheeks. Gods, she cannot tell him…cannot tell the queen. She would be abandoned, cast out in an instant.
The hand that does not clutch the small vial of moon tea comes to rest upon the small swell of her belly, a swell she had noticed in the days past but tried to ignore. Her attention turns to the vial, studying it. She need only swallow it’s contents and Jaime would never have to know. And yet…she feels a strange bond with the life she now knows she is growing. She’d dreamed of being a mother so often…yet she had never expected it to become a reality.
Before she is aware of her actions, she has opened the vial and tipped the contents out of the open window. Then, she sets the empty bottle down upon the side table and crawls back beneath the furs, into Jaime’s arms.
Savouring whatever time she had left with her lion at her side.
Jaime did not stir. For the first time in his life, these last few months had been peaceful. The North did not agree with him (or maybe he didn't agree with the North). It was cold and bitter up here, and he missed the sun against his golden hair. But the South had too many poisonous memories that he did not want to return to. His brother was all he cared about, and the two of them wrote when they could. Jaime had gotten much better with his left hand, but the words still jumbled on the pages at times, and he was too proud to ask for help deciphering them at times.
When Brienne had moved, he remained deep in sleep, oblivious to her plight. Only when she returned to the bed had he mumbled something, heavy with sleep. When the morn came, he did not remember at all.
The following days, they had returned to their duties. Whilst married, they were still able to protect Queen Sansa, and Jaime often found himself looking to where he had once pushed Bran, or visiting the Godswoods. He did not believe in the old gods or the new, really... but perhaps he felt like he still owed the gods something.
But Brienne had become distant, and he was concerned that he had done something wrong. At first, he merely thought it was just duty calling, or she was having her moon blood. He could recall how Cersei would push him away during that time. But when it happened again, he could not help his temper from flaring.
"If there is something I've done wrong, then tell me," he said, it somewhere between a demand and a plea. "We came here together, and are husband and wife. Are you regretting that now?" It hurt his chest to even say that, but it merely came out without warning. He'd never been tactful with his words.