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@singxfus
In the songs all knights are gallant, all maids are beautiful, and the sun is always shining...
Highly selective multimuse from George RR Martin's A Song of Ice and Fire series. Written and adored by E. (she/her). All follows come from @e-ooc.
21+
Rules
Muses
@call-2-arms
She finds his hand, clutching it tightly as more tears flow.
A son. She had a son…a notion she had never anticipated coming true, least of all with the only man she had ever truly loved.
“Gods…”
She shifts then with a wince, wrapping her arms around Jaime’s neck and pulling him into a tight embrace, clinging to him as she begins to sob.
She’s certain she will mock herself in the days to come about how she wept like a foolish maiden in the wake of the birth, but for now, she cares not. Her son lives, as does she. And Jaime can finally call himself a father.
“I love you…” she whispers, drawing back just enough to press a kiss to his lips. “Gods, Jaime…we have a son…”
She kisses him once more before bringing her hand to his cheek.
“I want to see him…”
A son, indeed. A Lannister boy. His father would have been proud, though only because he had a son to carry on the Lannister legacy. He did not want his newborn to have such heaviness upon his shoulders, though. He would grow knowing of the crimes of his long dead grandfather, his auntie, and even his brothers and sisters. Rest their souls, of course. Jaime would never forget his other three children. They had had innocence in them, too, save for Joffrey.
He would nurture this child, though, he would love them openly and freely, and make sure that they were as far from any Lannister he knew. They would be bold and brave, like their mother.
Jaime could feel his own tears welling in his eyes as she pulled him in for a tight embrace. Those words were his world, and she may not have known it. They made him weak and fall into her, though he knew he needed to be strong for her and their little boy.
"I will fetch him," he said, hesitantly parting with her. When he returned, the baby was nestled in a blanket against his chest. He sat on the bed beside her and Brienne saw the first glimpses of her son, cleaned from any remaining afterbirth and mess.
"Your son. Our son," he whispered proudly between the three of them.
@call-2-arms
Had she been more physically able, she might have followed him. The desperation to be reunited with her babe almost too much to bear.
But, Jaime returns soon enough and settles beside her, their son nestled in his arms. Gently, she takes him, realising in that moment that though she has never held a babe, it feels like the most natural thing in the world.
As she gazes down at him, she feels her heart swell. Emerald eyes peer back up at her, soft tufts of pale blonde hair upon the child’s head.
“Oh, my sweet boy…” she whispers, a finger gently caressing his cheek. “My little lion…”
It is then that the wetnurse enters, shattering the illusion that it was just she, Jaime and their son left upon the world. But of course, reality must prevail and the babe needs to be fed. The woman initially tries to take the child, stating Brienne must rest before she even attempts to feed him. However, Brienne insists and, after a few tries, Brienne is left alone with Jaime once more, the babe gently suckling at her breast.
After several long minutes, Brienne breaks the comfortable silence that has settled over them.
“If it please you…I should like to name him Galladon…for my brother,” she whispers, fingers caressing the babe’s hair as he feeds. “He saved my life when I was but four years old…and lost his own in doing so. I want our son to grow up as brave as him…and as strong as his father too…”
@call-2-arms
It is the ache that persists between her thighs that wakes her. As she struggles to sit up, she feels a hand upon her shoulder, gently easing her back against the pillows. Opening her eyes, it is the face of the kindly old maester that she sees. In an instant, the memories somewhat return to her.
The agony had came to her in the dead of night. It had been like nothing she had ever felt before- she would have gladly relived Biter shattering her arm over and over if it meant she could escape the pains that ripped through her then.
The maester tells her she had laboured for near three days, almost meeting the Stranger more than once before the squalling babe had finally arrived. Brienne’s consciousness had been so addled by milk of the poppy that she scarcely recalled much of the actual birth. And the last thing she could recall before giving in to blackness was the warmth of the child as it was laid upon her chest.
It is then that the door opens and sapphires land upon her husband. Instantly, tears fill her eyes. The babe was not in his arms.
“Jaime…”
@call-2-arms
She finds his hand, clutching it tightly as more tears flow.
A son. She had a son…a notion she had never anticipated coming true, least of all with the only man she had ever truly loved.
“Gods…”
She shifts then with a wince, wrapping her arms around Jaime’s neck and pulling him into a tight embrace, clinging to him as she begins to sob.
She’s certain she will mock herself in the days to come about how she wept like a foolish maiden in the wake of the birth, but for now, she cares not. Her son lives, as does she. And Jaime can finally call himself a father.
“I love you…” she whispers, drawing back just enough to press a kiss to his lips. “Gods, Jaime…we have a son…”
She kisses him once more before bringing her hand to his cheek.
“I want to see him…”
Hiatus notice.
I don’t know when/if I’ll be back. I’m sorry.
@call-2-arms
Sapphires search emeralds for any sign of rage, almost desperately, as he steps closer to her. The babe seemed to have sucked all resilience from her, leaving her fearful of near everything- was this how a woman ought to feel? She did not know.
Heart pounds in her chest, but it eases the moment his hand rests upon her cheek, as though restoring at least some of her strength. And there was a smile upon his lips, one which eased her discomfort even more so.
“I…I’ve known for two moons…” she answers, hoping her confession does not provoke him to anger. “The maester believes me to be five moons now…”
She feels the babe shift within her belly, a sensation that had frightened her when she first felt it a moon ago, but one which brings her comfort now. Slowly, she takes Jaime’s hand, presses it to the swell where the babe is nudging.
“I could not bring myself to tell you…” she whispers and in that moment, the tears return unbidden. “I feared you would flee…and I fear I will not survive this…just like my mother before me…”
Five moons!? It was no wonder she was beginning to panic. She would be showing and showing quickly with the babe that grew in her belly. How had he not noticed when she'd bathed? When he'd attempted to kiss and be intimate with her. He supposed this was why she'd withdrawn from him, too scared to allow his hand and lips to wander. Perhaps he'd just thought their lives had been so good to them in the North these last few moons that she'd become plump off roasts and other luxuries they'd had as they served beside Queen Sansa.
His hand felt against the bump of her belly, where he'd been unable to touch for what seemed like a painful eternity. Gods, he could feel how firm it was, just as Cersei's belly had swollen with each of their children.
He could be a father. He could finally love his child freely! Oh, but this was wonderful, until Brienne mentioned that her own mother had passed. Just as his own when Tyrion was born. Childbirth was a horrible yet wonderful thing.
"No," he said with determination and promise, "you will make it through this. We have Sansa and her best to be at your side. I promise you, I will be beside you through every part of this." Because he could be. Finally. How many precious moments had he missed of his children's lives because he was their 'uncle'? Because he was not allowed to show them the love that he'd had for them?
He lifted his hand to Brienne's cheek and pulled her in for a tender kiss. "I will be the best father I can be. I could never be there for my other children..." Or Cersei. "But I will be there for you, and this wonderful life you carry."
@call-2-arms
It is the ache that persists between her thighs that wakes her. As she struggles to sit up, she feels a hand upon her shoulder, gently easing her back against the pillows. Opening her eyes, it is the face of the kindly old maester that she sees. In an instant, the memories somewhat return to her.
The agony had came to her in the dead of night. It had been like nothing she had ever felt before- she would have gladly relived Biter shattering her arm over and over if it meant she could escape the pains that ripped through her then.
The maester tells her she had laboured for near three days, almost meeting the Stranger more than once before the squalling babe had finally arrived. Brienne’s consciousness had been so addled by milk of the poppy that she scarcely recalled much of the actual birth. And the last thing she could recall before giving in to blackness was the warmth of the child as it was laid upon her chest.
It is then that the door opens and sapphires land upon her husband. Instantly, tears fill her eyes. The babe was not in his arms.
“Jaime…”
@call-2-arms
The shift in his tone softened her and the rage that had flooded her moments ago is suddenly replaced with guilt. Why had she become so hateful? Was it the babe in her belly making her so? She had never been around women who were with child…did such a condition alter their minds the way it had Brienne’s?
Slowly, she takes a step closer to him, the tears that had welled in her eyes finally spilling and running down pale cheeks.
“Jaime…” she whispered. “I don’t hate you. I could never. But…”
A hand moves to her belly, as though seeking strength from the babe that rests there. The maester believed her to be nearing five moons now…and whatever the outcome, Jaime had a right to know.
“I’m so frightened…”
They were words that ought never fall from a knight’s lips, but it was the truth. He would leave her, she knew. And then in a few moons, she would pass while birthing the babe, just like her own mother had when she was a mere two years old.
Hesitantly, with trembling hands, she removes the cloak she wears, taking a step back from Jaime and lifting her tunic just enough to reveal the swell of her belly.
“The maester gave me moontea but I couldn’t take it…I’m sorry…”
He hated to see her cry. Brienne was such a strong woman, more a man than a maiden, of course. She always had been. And yet, that had someone drew Jaime to her. She was a behemoth of a thing, one could hardly call her pretty. But there she was, his and his alone, and he hated to see those beautiful sapphire eyes filled with tears.
What had brought this on? Had everything finally caught up to her? Had her regrets and shame of marrying him finally fallen upon those broad shoulders? Even as she said she did not hate him, he was uncertain, worried that perhaps the Lannister charm had finally run its course. She was realising that she had wedded a monster, a kingslayer, a man that was so full of bitterness that it had leaked into her with how many times they had shared a bed.
Green eyes watched her carefully, trying to understand, trying to analyse like he did in such tense situations. People thought that Jaime was all anger and rage, but he was not. He was a skilled knight that had won many a strategic battles, and he knew people more than they realised. It was how he kept them guessing, it was how he kept in control, always surprising them. They always expected a liar out of him no thanks to Lannister tricks, but he was the most honest of them all. He wanted no secrets. He wanted to shame. He wanted to live freely and openly, but Cersei had forced him to secrecy, and his father had made sure he kept his mouth shut. With Brienne, though, he could be as open as he wished. He just wished she would be as openly as he.
When Brienne stepped back and revealed the swell of her belly, he was confused for a moment to why she was scared. Of him? Of herself? But he had been around Cersei through all of her pregnancies, and immediately, he knew that it was his seed that was growing.
Jaime's heart thumped hard in his chest, his lips parting. It was not fear that overtook him, but glee. "You... you are... pregnant?" Oh, but it was wonderful! He didn't understand why she was so scared, why she had hidden this from him, and how he had never noticed!? Perhaps it was because Brienne was already such a strong woman that she hid her belly well, or the clothes she wore were always armour and pads, something that would hide even her small breasts.
He took a step towards her, his eyes bright as he reached out to cup her cheek with his single hand. "Brienne, this is... For how long have you been keeping this?" There was no malice to his tone, he just wanted to know how far along she was. She could hardly read his reaction as upset, not with the smile that spread across his lips.
@call-2-arms
Sapphires search emeralds for any sign of rage, almost desperately, as he steps closer to her. The babe seemed to have sucked all resilience from her, leaving her fearful of near everything- was this how a woman ought to feel? She did not know.
Heart pounds in her chest, but it eases the moment his hand rests upon her cheek, as though restoring at least some of her strength. And there was a smile upon his lips, one which eased her discomfort even more so.
“I…I’ve known for two moons…” she answers, hoping her confession does not provoke him to anger. “The maester believes me to be five moons now…”
She feels the babe shift within her belly, a sensation that had frightened her when she first felt it a moon ago, but one which brings her comfort now. Slowly, she takes Jaime’s hand, presses it to the swell where the babe is nudging.
“I could not bring myself to tell you…” she whispers and in that moment, the tears return unbidden. “I feared you would flee…and I fear I will not survive this…just like my mother before me…”
@call-2-arms
As the days and weeks pass, she grows ever more irritable. She loved him, there was no denying that. But had he always been so demanding of her attention? Even the way he pawed at her in his sleep frustrated her when it never had before.
Of course, she’d given into her own desires once or twice since the discovery that she was with child, but the liaisons took place under cover of darkness, forcing both his hand and his lips to remain above her shoulders despite the desperation she had to feel them elsewhere. She was certain he would notice the changes of her body now, and she would go as long as she could for fear of him discovering her condition.
It had been near two moons since her discovery, and a moon since she had last laid with him, when he came to her, questioning her regrets. Something in his tone irked her and she felt nought but anger burn within her. It had been building for weeks now and she would be lying if she said her own brooding had not contributed to it. But gone were any rational thoughts now.
“What do you want, Jaime?” She snapped. “For me to lie back and allow you to have me when you wish? Would that make me a better wife to you?”
She pulls the cloak tighter about her frame, shielding herself not only from the chill in their chambers, but from his gaze too. He had caught her unawares and the tunic she wore did little to hide the now obvious swell of her belly.
“I am not your whore,” she spat, knowing mayhaps her words would be too far, but she cared little. “I’m your wife, and if you can’t respect me as such, perhaps it is you who is regretting your vows.”
She finally looks at him, angry tears filling her eyes.
“I am sorry I’m not her.”
Jaime's expression became hard. Had he been such a horrible husband to her that she would think these things? They had started off bickering at each other, where he called her ugly physically while she called him ugly for his acts. Soon, their bickering had become charming amongst each other, and Jaime found that somewhere along the way, despite how he'd called her so ugly, that he'd fallen deeply in love with her even if he'd denied and refused it.
He thought that things had changed. He thought that's he'd changed. But was the Lannister poison still inside him? Of course it was. But when Brienne reminded him that he had once laid with his sister, that she could not compare to Cersie, that was unworthy as it was cruel.
Cersei may not have always been the kindest woman, and she'd been a cruel and power hungry queen, but she had still been his sister, and he had still loved her until her dying breath. Perhaps his lust had no longer run so deeply for her, but she was still his twin, and he had still loved her as a brother should. As any family should.
He had never considered Brienne to be a whore. In fact, her innocence was what he'd loved about her most. That she was as far from Cersei as possible, but he was the connection, wasn't he? He did not know how to love kindly, only passionately and physically. But had be been so greedy for so long that he'd turned back to who he once was? Or was Brienne simply overreacting?
Where did they get lost?
Jaime's brows furrowed before his eyes lowered. He was an angry man, and if he was with Cersei, he may have spat back with just as much venom. But he was not with her, and he was no longer that man.
"I am glad you are not her," he said, his voice attempting to be soft, but there was still a Lannister bite that could not be denied. "I would not have loved you if you were. Nor do I regret taking my vows with your hands in mine." He gestured to the snow outside, and the cold even though the long winter had passed. "I wouldn't be living in this bloody cold if it weren't for that. But if you are going to hold Cersei over my head for the rest of my life..."
He shook his head, turning his eyes from hers as he breathed a hard huff. She didn't understand the bond between them, that they shared a womb, that even in her death, he felt like he'd lost a part of himself, no matter how much he had grown to dislike the woman she'd become.
"Well... why don't you just get it out and over with then? Tell me all the things you hate about me."
@call-2-arms
The shift in his tone softened her and the rage that had flooded her moments ago is suddenly replaced with guilt. Why had she become so hateful? Was it the babe in her belly making her so? She had never been around women who were with child…did such a condition alter their minds the way it had Brienne’s?
Slowly, she takes a step closer to him, the tears that had welled in her eyes finally spilling and running down pale cheeks.
“Jaime…” she whispered. “I don’t hate you. I could never. But…”
A hand moves to her belly, as though seeking strength from the babe that rests there. The maester believed her to be nearing five moons now…and whatever the outcome, Jaime had a right to know.
“I’m so frightened…”
They were words that ought never fall from a knight’s lips, but it was the truth. He would leave her, she knew. And then in a few moons, she would pass while birthing the babe, just like her own mother had when she was a mere two years old.
Hesitantly, with trembling hands, she removes the cloak she wears, taking a step back from Jaime and lifting her tunic just enough to reveal the swell of her belly.
“The maester gave me moontea but I couldn’t take it…I’m sorry…”
@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.
xXx
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.
@call-2-arms
As the days and weeks pass, she grows ever more irritable. She loved him, there was no denying that. But had he always been so demanding of her attention? Even the way he pawed at her in his sleep frustrated her when it never had before.
Of course, she’d given into her own desires once or twice since the discovery that she was with child, but the liaisons took place under cover of darkness, forcing both his hand and his lips to remain above her shoulders despite the desperation she had to feel them elsewhere. She was certain he would notice the changes of her body now, and she would go as long as she could for fear of him discovering her condition.
It had been near two moons since her discovery, and a moon since she had last laid with him, when he came to her, questioning her regrets. Something in his tone irked her and she felt nought but anger burn within her. It had been building for weeks now and she would be lying if she said her own brooding had not contributed to it. But gone were any rational thoughts now.
“What do you want, Jaime?” She snapped. “For me to lie back and allow you to have me when you wish? Would that make me a better wife to you?”
She pulls the cloak tighter about her frame, shielding herself not only from the chill in their chambers, but from his gaze too. He had caught her unawares and the tunic she wore did little to hide the now obvious swell of her belly.
“I am not your whore,” she spat, knowing mayhaps her words would be too far, but she cared little. “I’m your wife, and if you can’t respect me as such, perhaps it is you who is regretting your vows.”
She finally looks at him, angry tears filling her eyes.
“I am sorry I’m not her.”
singxfus​:Â
She settles beside him, not so subtly pressing herself into his side. Though a fire burned in a hearth within the sept, she knows it will take more than just that to chase the chill away from her bones.
She takes the opportunity to close her eyes, say a silent prayer to the warrior to give both herself and Jaime strength. She’s uncertain she still believes in the Gods, not after the horrors she has endured over the past few years. Mayhaps she had deserved each and every one…or mayhaps there were truly no Gods at all.
Despite his crassness, she is grateful when Jaime makes his comment, for it halts her thoughts from wandering too far into doubt. Looking over at him, she rolls her eyes.
“Perhaps if you pray enough, the Gods will grant you new ones.”
Jaime laughed, a little surprised in her own crassness. Perhaps she’d been with him for far too long. That probably wasn’t a good thing. What he liked about Brienne was that she was nothing like him, that she was nothing like Cersei had been. She was far more innocent, far more kind, and honourable.Â
“From my past experience, I think they’ve rather favoured them…” he muttered, although that did bring a pang of shame and guilt. His children, rest their souls. Each and every one of them had perished, even the one that Cersei had been carrying with her into death–assuming that it was his at all. He knew what she did behind his back, when he was not within those castle walls. Unlike Jaime, she had shared her bed with any other Lannister that she could coil around her fingers.Â
He had never been a good father, even though he wanted to be. Even then, every one of them had been a bastard born, never to be wedded to the woman he’d loved. A life in secret corners and filled with shame. He hated that. He wanted to be free, to do whatever he please.Â
As he looked around the Sept, he felt himself press against Brienne the way she pressed into him. A moment of comfort and warmth. Was it selfishness that made him consider such a deed, or was it love. When they reached Winterfell, they may be split, but… what if they were already to far intertwined?Â
“You should wed me,” he suddenly said, looking at her, his expression serious. “Here. Now, in this Sept.” Before he may never get the opportunity again. Now, he had that chance, to marry a woman he loved, a woman that he was allowed to love and spend the rest of his life openly with.Â
@call-2-arms
“No.”
She answers quickly, too quickly, lips almost betraying her own fears right there. She would seek out the maester of her own accord, and would pray to the Seven in the meantime that her ailment was just a passing sickness. But she did not want Jaime with her, for fear of her illness being something decidedly more…permanent.
Bleary eyes meet his after several moments and she offers him a faint smile, reaching for his hand that rests upon her shoulder and bringing it to her lips. In the weeks past, she has grown significantly more affectionate, craving his touches even in the most innocent manner. It will only make it all the more agonising if her fears are real, for she knows he will abandon her.
“Can you hold me?” She asks quietly, an alien request. “I’d like to sleep…”
“Of course.” Jaime’s response was without hesitation. If she needed the comfort of his body by hers whilst she rested, he had no problem with it. Of course, he didn’t think much of her being sick. Plagues and whatever else went around like nothing, no doubt from this bloody cold in the North as well. It had taken time to get used to, although the Lannister doubted he’d ever get used to it.
He hated the cold. Alas, this was his life now. He would have to prevail. It was worth it, just to be with Brienne. There were too many sour memories in King’s Landing, but perhaps one day, they could go back to The Rock. They were already wed, and even if they were to be in service to the crown, perhaps one day they would be free of those binds. A service was usually a lifetime, but they’d already broken so many rules. What was another rule broken?
Moving, he wrapped his arms around her, so she could lay against him on the bed, resting his back against the pillows. He wished he could touch her with both hands, but one would remain a stump forever now.
He pressed his lips her hair. “With luck, you’ll feel better when you wake. But if you need anything, let me know, will you?”
@call-2-arms
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.
xXx
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.
singxfus​:Â
She settles beside him, not so subtly pressing herself into his side. Though a fire burned in a hearth within the sept, she knows it will take more than just that to chase the chill away from her bones.
She takes the opportunity to close her eyes, say a silent prayer to the warrior to give both herself and Jaime strength. She’s uncertain she still believes in the Gods, not after the horrors she has endured over the past few years. Mayhaps she had deserved each and every one…or mayhaps there were truly no Gods at all.
Despite his crassness, she is grateful when Jaime makes his comment, for it halts her thoughts from wandering too far into doubt. Looking over at him, she rolls her eyes.
“Perhaps if you pray enough, the Gods will grant you new ones.”
Jaime laughed, a little surprised in her own crassness. Perhaps she’d been with him for far too long. That probably wasn’t a good thing. What he liked about Brienne was that she was nothing like him, that she was nothing like Cersei had been. She was far more innocent, far more kind, and honourable.Â
“From my past experience, I think they’ve rather favoured them…” he muttered, although that did bring a pang of shame and guilt. His children, rest their souls. Each and every one of them had perished, even the one that Cersei had been carrying with her into death–assuming that it was his at all. He knew what she did behind his back, when he was not within those castle walls. Unlike Jaime, she had shared her bed with any other Lannister that she could coil around her fingers.Â
He had never been a good father, even though he wanted to be. Even then, every one of them had been a bastard born, never to be wedded to the woman he’d loved. A life in secret corners and filled with shame. He hated that. He wanted to be free, to do whatever he please.Â
As he looked around the Sept, he felt himself press against Brienne the way she pressed into him. A moment of comfort and warmth. Was it selfishness that made him consider such a deed, or was it love. When they reached Winterfell, they may be split, but… what if they were already to far intertwined?Â
“You should wed me,” he suddenly said, looking at her, his expression serious. “Here. Now, in this Sept.” Before he may never get the opportunity again. Now, he had that chance, to marry a woman he loved, a woman that he was allowed to love and spend the rest of his life openly with.Â
@call-2-arms
“No.”
She answers quickly, too quickly, lips almost betraying her own fears right there. She would seek out the maester of her own accord, and would pray to the Seven in the meantime that her ailment was just a passing sickness. But she did not want Jaime with her, for fear of her illness being something decidedly more…permanent.
Bleary eyes meet his after several moments and she offers him a faint smile, reaching for his hand that rests upon her shoulder and bringing it to her lips. In the weeks past, she has grown significantly more affectionate, craving his touches even in the most innocent manner. It will only make it all the more agonising if her fears are real, for she knows he will abandon her.
“Can you hold me?” She asks quietly, an alien request. “I’d like to sleep…”
singxfus​:Â
She settles beside him, not so subtly pressing herself into his side. Though a fire burned in a hearth within the sept, she knows it will take more than just that to chase the chill away from her bones.
She takes the opportunity to close her eyes, say a silent prayer to the warrior to give both herself and Jaime strength. She’s uncertain she still believes in the Gods, not after the horrors she has endured over the past few years. Mayhaps she had deserved each and every one…or mayhaps there were truly no Gods at all.
Despite his crassness, she is grateful when Jaime makes his comment, for it halts her thoughts from wandering too far into doubt. Looking over at him, she rolls her eyes.
“Perhaps if you pray enough, the Gods will grant you new ones.”
Jaime laughed, a little surprised in her own crassness. Perhaps she’d been with him for far too long. That probably wasn’t a good thing. What he liked about Brienne was that she was nothing like him, that she was nothing like Cersei had been. She was far more innocent, far more kind, and honourable.Â
“From my past experience, I think they’ve rather favoured them…” he muttered, although that did bring a pang of shame and guilt. His children, rest their souls. Each and every one of them had perished, even the one that Cersei had been carrying with her into death–assuming that it was his at all. He knew what she did behind his back, when he was not within those castle walls. Unlike Jaime, she had shared her bed with any other Lannister that she could coil around her fingers.Â
He had never been a good father, even though he wanted to be. Even then, every one of them had been a bastard born, never to be wedded to the woman he’d loved. A life in secret corners and filled with shame. He hated that. He wanted to be free, to do whatever he please.Â
As he looked around the Sept, he felt himself press against Brienne the way she pressed into him. A moment of comfort and warmth. Was it selfishness that made him consider such a deed, or was it love. When they reached Winterfell, they may be split, but… what if they were already to far intertwined?Â
“You should wed me,” he suddenly said, looking at her, his expression serious. “Here. Now, in this Sept.” Before he may never get the opportunity again. Now, he had that chance, to marry a woman he loved, a woman that he was allowed to love and spend the rest of his life openly with.Â
Her stomach lurches as she watches him and she swallows thickly, forcing a gentle smile to her lips at his comment.
“Terrible,” she confirms. “So much so that I’m inclined to request an annulment. Now, if you’ll excuse me…”
At that, she abruptly rises from the small table at which they sit, fingers gently caressing his shoulder as she passes him on her way towards the small privy that attaches to their chambers. Her stomach rolls painfully and she finds herself gripping the wall to steady herself before she vomits. It had happened almost daily for the past week now, but she had always hidden her ailment from Jaime well enough. Now, she knows he will have heard. She silently vows to see a maester on the morrow.
When she eventually returns to the chambers, she is pale and trembling. She just about manages to undress before collapsing upon the bed with a groan, pulling the furs atop herself.
“Travelling no longer suits me as well as it once did,” she mutters, curling up on her side and closing her eyes. “I never wish to venture beyond these walls again.”
singxfus​:Â
She settles beside him, not so subtly pressing herself into his side. Though a fire burned in a hearth within the sept, she knows it will take more than just that to chase the chill away from her bones.
She takes the opportunity to close her eyes, say a silent prayer to the warrior to give both herself and Jaime strength. She’s uncertain she still believes in the Gods, not after the horrors she has endured over the past few years. Mayhaps she had deserved each and every one…or mayhaps there were truly no Gods at all.
Despite his crassness, she is grateful when Jaime makes his comment, for it halts her thoughts from wandering too far into doubt. Looking over at him, she rolls her eyes.
“Perhaps if you pray enough, the Gods will grant you new ones.”
Jaime laughed, a little surprised in her own crassness. Perhaps she’d been with him for far too long. That probably wasn’t a good thing. What he liked about Brienne was that she was nothing like him, that she was nothing like Cersei had been. She was far more innocent, far more kind, and honourable.Â
“From my past experience, I think they’ve rather favoured them…” he muttered, although that did bring a pang of shame and guilt. His children, rest their souls. Each and every one of them had perished, even the one that Cersei had been carrying with her into death–assuming that it was his at all. He knew what she did behind his back, when he was not within those castle walls. Unlike Jaime, she had shared her bed with any other Lannister that she could coil around her fingers.Â
He had never been a good father, even though he wanted to be. Even then, every one of them had been a bastard born, never to be wedded to the woman he’d loved. A life in secret corners and filled with shame. He hated that. He wanted to be free, to do whatever he please.Â
As he looked around the Sept, he felt himself press against Brienne the way she pressed into him. A moment of comfort and warmth. Was it selfishness that made him consider such a deed, or was it love. When they reached Winterfell, they may be split, but… what if they were already to far intertwined?Â
“You should wed me,” he suddenly said, looking at her, his expression serious. “Here. Now, in this Sept.” Before he may never get the opportunity again. Now, he had that chance, to marry a woman he loved, a woman that he was allowed to love and spend the rest of his life openly with.Â
@call-2-arms
She’d never quite known joy like it. Waking up beside him each morning the inn in White Harbour, looking upon his sleeping form knowing she was his and he was hers in return. She’d always scoffed at the foolish girls she had known, who had fawned over men. But when she looks upon her husband, she knows she is no better than any of them.
After a week, the time came for the pair to pack their things and mount their horses, ready to complete their journey to Winterfell. Brienne knew not what lay ahead of them, but she will face whatever it was gladly so long as she had Jaime at her side.
The ride north takes near six weeks and by the time they arrive at the gates of Winterfell, Brienne is exhausted. She had ridden further before, it was true, but that was many moons ago. Still, there is a niggling feeling in the knight that perhaps being out of practice might not be the entire root of her fatigue.
She pushes her discomfort aside, however. Knows she will need her strength to face Queen Sansa and beg for her place upon the Queensguard once more.
To Brienne’s astonishment, the Queen had no qualms about her returning to her post, and Jaime with her, even with the disclosure of their elopement in White Harbour. Sansa advised that, if it was Jaime who had brought Brienne back to Winterfell, then she would allow the marriage to stand if it means she had Brienne’s protection once more.
That evening, as she and Jaime took their supper in the chambers the Queen had provided for them, Brienne found herself growing queasy at the sight of her food after only a few bites. She put the feeling down to being too long away from finer fare.
“If you’re hungry still, you can have mine,” she murmurs. “I’m rather tired and I’d prefer to rest before we commence our training on the morrow.”
singxfus​:Â
She settles beside him, not so subtly pressing herself into his side. Though a fire burned in a hearth within the sept, she knows it will take more than just that to chase the chill away from her bones.
She takes the opportunity to close her eyes, say a silent prayer to the warrior to give both herself and Jaime strength. She’s uncertain she still believes in the Gods, not after the horrors she has endured over the past few years. Mayhaps she had deserved each and every one…or mayhaps there were truly no Gods at all.
Despite his crassness, she is grateful when Jaime makes his comment, for it halts her thoughts from wandering too far into doubt. Looking over at him, she rolls her eyes.
“Perhaps if you pray enough, the Gods will grant you new ones.”
Jaime laughed, a little surprised in her own crassness. Perhaps she’d been with him for far too long. That probably wasn’t a good thing. What he liked about Brienne was that she was nothing like him, that she was nothing like Cersei had been. She was far more innocent, far more kind, and honourable.Â
“From my past experience, I think they’ve rather favoured them…” he muttered, although that did bring a pang of shame and guilt. His children, rest their souls. Each and every one of them had perished, even the one that Cersei had been carrying with her into death–assuming that it was his at all. He knew what she did behind his back, when he was not within those castle walls. Unlike Jaime, she had shared her bed with any other Lannister that she could coil around her fingers.Â
He had never been a good father, even though he wanted to be. Even then, every one of them had been a bastard born, never to be wedded to the woman he’d loved. A life in secret corners and filled with shame. He hated that. He wanted to be free, to do whatever he please.Â
As he looked around the Sept, he felt himself press against Brienne the way she pressed into him. A moment of comfort and warmth. Was it selfishness that made him consider such a deed, or was it love. When they reached Winterfell, they may be split, but… what if they were already to far intertwined?Â
“You should wed me,” he suddenly said, looking at her, his expression serious. “Here. Now, in this Sept.” Before he may never get the opportunity again. Now, he had that chance, to marry a woman he loved, a woman that he was allowed to love and spend the rest of his life openly with.Â
@call-2-arms
She’d never considered how her own marital ceremony might play out, because she had never anticipated such an event occurring. She had been betrothed thrice before, it was true. But she had never expected any of them to come to fruition and of course, she had been right. One had rejected her the moment he had laid eyes upon her, one had passed away and the other had lost to her in a fight.
Yet here she stands now…gently clutching Ser Jaime Lannister’s remaining hand, sapphires fixed upon emeralds as lips utter the words she had never expected to speak. As she swears her love and loyalty to him, even the voices that tell her she is unworthy are silenced. All she knows in that moment is him. The kiss they share to seal their union is a delicate one, but already, Brienne is eager to take him back to their room at the inn. To have him take her as his wife, not as his lover.
As they step outside once the septon has proclaimed them man and wife, she cannot shake the smile that clings to her lips, despite the chill in the air.
“We ought to head back,” she says, making a futile attempt to hide the want within her words. “I’m certain we’ll be much warmer beneath the furs than we are wandering the streets…”
I just saw someone on Tik Tok call Euron a “Hot Topic Fuckboy” and I am absolutely going to use that as my muse tag for him is2g.
singxfus​:Â
She settles beside him, not so subtly pressing herself into his side. Though a fire burned in a hearth within the sept, she knows it will take more than just that to chase the chill away from her bones.
She takes the opportunity to close her eyes, say a silent prayer to the warrior to give both herself and Jaime strength. She’s uncertain she still believes in the Gods, not after the horrors she has endured over the past few years. Mayhaps she had deserved each and every one…or mayhaps there were truly no Gods at all.
Despite his crassness, she is grateful when Jaime makes his comment, for it halts her thoughts from wandering too far into doubt. Looking over at him, she rolls her eyes.
“Perhaps if you pray enough, the Gods will grant you new ones.”
Jaime laughed, a little surprised in her own crassness. Perhaps she’d been with him for far too long. That probably wasn’t a good thing. What he liked about Brienne was that she was nothing like him, that she was nothing like Cersei had been. She was far more innocent, far more kind, and honourable.Â
“From my past experience, I think they’ve rather favoured them…” he muttered, although that did bring a pang of shame and guilt. His children, rest their souls. Each and every one of them had perished, even the one that Cersei had been carrying with her into death–assuming that it was his at all. He knew what she did behind his back, when he was not within those castle walls. Unlike Jaime, she had shared her bed with any other Lannister that she could coil around her fingers.Â
He had never been a good father, even though he wanted to be. Even then, every one of them had been a bastard born, never to be wedded to the woman he’d loved. A life in secret corners and filled with shame. He hated that. He wanted to be free, to do whatever he please.Â
As he looked around the Sept, he felt himself press against Brienne the way she pressed into him. A moment of comfort and warmth. Was it selfishness that made him consider such a deed, or was it love. When they reached Winterfell, they may be split, but… what if they were already to far intertwined?Â
“You should wed me,” he suddenly said, looking at her, his expression serious. “Here. Now, in this Sept.” Before he may never get the opportunity again. Now, he had that chance, to marry a woman he loved, a woman that he was allowed to love and spend the rest of his life openly with.Â
She looks at him then, brow furrowed and confusion sitting within her eyes. Had he gone completely mad? Had the chill of the north stolen his wits entirely?
They could not wed. They had both sworn sacred vows to take no spouses, bear no children. At least, Brienne was still held by such vows. Jaime had not been a Kingsguard for years…would his vow still matter? And further still…did Brienne’s? Queen Sansa had sent her back to Tarth a year ago to regain her strength…but there had been no talk of resuming her duties.
“Jaime, I…”
Despite everything…what did they have to lose? If Queen Sansa did refuse them, their marriage vows would still stand. They would still have one another. Brienne had never experience such a strength of feeling for another person and hadn’t King Bran said it himself the day Jaime had arrived in Winterfell?
We don’t get to choose who we love.
She’s unsure if her action is appropriate in a sept, but she turns to Jaime, seeking his lips in a lingering kiss. When she pulls back, there is a delicate smile upon her lips.
“Let us find the septon…before I regain my wits…”
Gwendoline Christie as Brienne of Tarth in Game Of Thrones
singxfus​:
She shivers beneath the woollen cloak she holds tightly about her broad frame, subtly huddling closer to Jaime as they make their way through the busy marketplace close to the docks. In the moons she had spent on Tarth, she had grown accustomed to the somewhat balmier temperatures once again. She knows she will grow used to the frozen North again soon enough, but the first few weeks here are always a challenge.
She is not used to crowds, not now, two years since she last set foot on a battlefield. Though she and Jaime are a head and shoulders above most around them, the lack of space feels almost crushing to Brienne. And the curious stares in their direction do little to alleviate the discomfort. Of course, neither of them are entirely recognisable- Brienne wears simple breeches and a shirt beneath her cloak and her hair is now a little beyond her shoulders in length, whilst Jaime is more greying than golden. But their heights warrant such stares.
“We should find somewhere warm soon, Jaime…I fear I might freeze to death before we even set off for Winterfell…”
Gods, he hated the cold. Gods, he hated the North. Why was he doing this? He could have served beside his brother, Hand to the King once more, but he had decided that the Red Keep held far too many awful memories. He wanted a new life, and he would follow Brienne wherever it was she wished to go. This was her calling, and she believed she owed everything to Sansa. He could hardly deny her that right. Still, his jaw pressed tight to hide the fact that his teeth were chattering and he was covered in goosebumps. Thank the Seven he had a good cloak to wrap around himself.Â
He turned to Brienne, head having to slightly tilt backwards. He had come to love the fact that he had to lean back to see her in the eyes, but nonetheless, he always tilted back so he looked down, not up. A challenge, she had been at first, but now it was something he’d found endearing about her. How times had changed his views…Â
“The further we’re away from this crowd, the more likely we are to be recognised,” he told her, attempting to keep his voice sturdy in the cold. He did not wish to appear weak before anyone, but if Brienne was cold, with all her bulk and muscle, then he was freezing.
“Come, there is a Sept close by if I recall correctly. We can sit a moment, between the two of us. No one will bother us there.” He took her hand into his and began steering the direction of what he could recall from past journeys.Â
When they reached the old building, he pulled her in and they took a seat. With the door closed, it was much warmer. Just a moment for them to catch their breaths and keep warm before they continued their journey further north.
He pulled his hand up, blowing on it in hopes that the warmth from his breath would stop any frostbite. “I’d forgotten just how bloody cold the north is. My testicles have disappeared.” Did he care that he said that in a Sept? Not really. He’d said and done far worse in a place of worship.Â
She settles beside him, not so subtly pressing herself into his side. Though a fire burned in a hearth within the sept, she knows it will take more than just that to chase the chill away from her bones.
She takes the opportunity to close her eyes, say a silent prayer to the warrior to give both herself and Jaime strength. She’s uncertain she still believes in the Gods, not after the horrors she has endured over the past few years. Mayhaps she had deserved each and every one…or mayhaps there were truly no Gods at all.
Despite his crassness, she is grateful when Jaime makes his comment, for it halts her thoughts from wandering too far into doubt. Looking over at him, she rolls her eyes.
“Perhaps if you pray enough, the Gods will grant you new ones.”
