where gold bleeds green - jaime lannister
WHERE WATER PULLS LIES
tyrell!reader, age gap!
MASTERLIST
word count: 4.3k
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you went down to the baths not long after you returned to your chambers. the vast, hot, and humid underground room with a stone-lined pool of hotspring water reminded you a lot of winterfell. arya had shown you the place that their hotsprings was pumped up to line the walls, making it warm even in the bitter winters.
brienne was already there and as you stepped in, a few feet from the tub, you gave her a small, almost awkward smile.
"would you care if i joined you?" you asked, clutching a large towel, some soaps, and a change of clothes that one of the maids had brought you in your arms.
she nodded and tucked herself in the corner, looking away with her arms crossed over her chest. "not at all, my lady."
you quickly stripped and set your things to the side, slipping beneath the water with the pummice-stone covered in a thin layer of soap in hand. you instantly began scrubbing it against your skin, anxious for the dirt and oil to leave you. brienne didn't turn, and you offered, "i'm in the water now. it’s alright."
she slowly turned straight again, reaching for her own bar of soap to rub in her hands and then run the suds through her short hair. you both worked quietly, ridding yourselves of the filth from the journey until she finally asked, "how is ser jaime?"
you hesitated, flashes of his screams and bloodied wrist and the surprisingly honest words you’d shared in the midst of it all flying through your mind before you shoved them away. you offered her a thin smile and a nod. "he's fine now. the maester burned away the infection and stitched the skin back together, so hopefully the arm won't have to be taken."
"that's good," she said quietly, nodding too. another few moments passed before she spoke again, words quick like she'd been waiting for an opportunity to get them off her chest. "i failed him and lady catelyn," she admitted, looking up from the water to meet your eyes. a brief silence passed where you both sat in her words, your brows knitted slightly in disbelief. "i promised to return him to king's landing safely. i failed."
all along your journey you'd noted the way that she upheld herself with a sort of knightly virtue that you hadn't seen often in those who weren't declared knights, and even some who were. she was honorable and diligent and loyal with a strength that was missing from the world.
you admired it greatly. in your experience, most women of court were vile and manipulative and disloyal. even you, in some senses, had been raised how to manipulate situations in ways that best served you, pushing you to take control of your life even as you attempted to remain as pure as possible.
you'd tried to be like brienne, but you were raised to be like olenna - and in so many ways you believed that you failed to be either.
"it isn't your fault," you told her with a sad sigh and a shake of your head. "you couldn't have done anything."
"i could have. i should have," she said surely.
you shook your head again. "there wasn't anything we could do. how were we supposed to know that he was going to cut his hand off? honestly, i assumed they'd keep him in one piece just because of who his father is. though, i guess the constant reminder of that pissed locke right off." you let out a breath. “look, it’s not your fault, it’s not mine, and it’s not jaime’s. it’s on locke, not us.”
she nodded slowly, watching you with probing eyes that you tried to avoid. then she said, "except you did try. you went for the sword."
"and i was thrown away," you said, rolling your eyes. "what could i do anyways? i'm a girl from highgarden; born to look pretty and be obedient, raised to manipulate the few choices i have, trained to be the perfect highborn woman to sit next to jaime at the rock. i've no right to a sword."
she frowned. "you do. every person has a right to a sword. you've been practicing too, i'm sure in due time you'll be exceptional."
you snorted, looking away. "not according to jaime."
"ser jaime doesn't know what he's talking about," she told you. "and anyways, i'm sure he only said that to get a rise out of you. he seems to admire you more than he lets on."
"thank you, but i doubt that," you answered with an amused smile, continuing to scrub your arms harshly with the pummice-stone soap.
you didn’t doubt it as much as you let on, mind immediately going back to the conversation you’d had during his surgery.
he would go to war for you, he told you. you were a better person than cersei, he told you.
he even alluded to the fact that he could have even been grateful for your help and compassion, which had stuck with you in the hour since leaving him.
it made you mad, almost, how quickly he was able to twist your anger into compassion. you hated that his pain disarmed you, but you would have hated yourself more if you'd let him suffer.
brienne watched you as if you were speaking aloud, a certain understanding in her eyes as you scrubbed your arms harshly.
she cleared her throat. “i would be angry too,” she told you quietly. “i know it’s not my place, forgive me, but i can’t imagine this is an easy thing to carry on your own. i would hate him too.”
“i don’t hate him,” you answered quickly, shaking your head as your eyes caught on the ripples in the water from your movements. “but, he’s definitely pushing me closer to it.”
her smile softened even more until it dropped, and she eyed you like she knew something you didn’t. you met her eyes for just a moment and then her expression pissed you off and you went back to washing.
you hated when people thought they knew you; especially if they turned out to be right.
it was then that the doors opened behind you, brienne's eyes widening slightly as she sunk deeper beneath the water.
"if you scrub any harder, you'll scrub your skin off."
seemed like he had returned to normal.
you let out a deep sigh through your nose, not even turning to see jaime as he walked in. you could hear his footsteps behind you, stopping near where you rested your things and setting his own down. "speak of the devil," you murmured to brienne, who was appalled as jaime rounded the tub and began to strip.
she looked away while you looked to him briefly, rolling your eyes as he unabashedly dropped his trousers. "gods, jaime, a warning next time."
"this is a bath," he said as he slipped into the water. "you should've expected it. and anyways, it's not like it's anything you haven't seen before."
"it's been a while," you hummed, dragging your soap now over your legs as jaime glanced over to you. he took in the sight of your bare shoulders and collarbone, not greedy, but almost remembering what they looked like without the tattered remains of robb’s grey dress covering them.
“too long,” he answered quietly, which only made you roll your eyes.
brienne grew more uncomfortable, moving to the side and reaching for her clothes. “i’ll leave you two be.”
“yes, perhaps we can mend our missteps,” jaime said ironically, a slow smirk pulling at his lips as he watched her. she hesitated now that his eyes were on her and you scoffed, setting your soap to the side and shifting through the water to his side.
you slapped a hand over his eyes. “decency, jaime,” you told him even as he grabbed your wrist with zero attempt to pull it away.
“i am a decent man,” he answered with a laugh.
“what a high bar for yourself, husband,” you said dryly, brienne now standing and shuffling for her clothes as you kept your eyes on jaime.
he was even more filthy than you thought, the dirt all across his collarbone and chest, down his arms and covering his face. some of his muscle had left him, though you still wouldn't call him thin, and there were a variety of scars covering his skin that you didn't notice before the war began. he held his wrapped stump above the water, instructed not to let it get wet, and you could see the dull cloud of brown in the water that came from him settling into the bath.
his hand trailed from your wrist to your shoulder and then down your side. you smacked him. “stop that.”
“you used to like that,” he hummed with a smirk.
brienne was finished now, looking between you both with knitted brows and a small frown. “are you alright, my lady?” she checked once, towel and toiletries in her arms as she passed you and jaime.
you smiled gently, offering her a nod. “i’ll be able to handle it, yes. thank you, lady brienne. we’ll see you at supper.”
she nodded, eying jaime as you dropped your hand from his eyes before she fled the room, muttering in answer, "i'll see you when you're both decent."
"might take a while!" he called after her, earning a frown from you.
"do you ever shut up?" you asked with a raise of your brows.
jaime grinned, turning to you. “what? are you going to run from me too?” he asked with a tilt of his head. “you always did look so good walking away.”
“be quiet, jaime,” you scoffed, smacking him again before moving back to your previous spot. you dunked beneath the water, wetting your hair and running your hands through it to shake any loose dirt out before rising again and rubbing shampoo into the roots and ends, determined to get all the dirts and oils and blood from the surface.
“you don’t want me to shut up,” he hummed, watching you. “how else would you be so entertained?”
you didn't answer, scrubbing your scalp still and then dipping your head back into the water. you were aware that in the process your upper body was bobbing in and out, exposing you for a few brief moments, but you couldn't find it in you to care. in fact, you even were mildly appreciative of the way jaime continued to look at you, waiting for an answer maybe, or breathing you in in a capacity he hadn't been able to in a long time.
when the suds were rinsed from your locks, you glanced back to him, eying the dirt covering his arms. with a sigh, you shifted towards him. “if you don’t keep it clean it’ll rot away,” you said, reaching for your soap.
you moved to stand in front of him, the water just barely above your chest as you grabbed his right arm. careful to keep the wrappings dry, you began to clean the rest of the area, scrubbing away the dried blood and grime and mud that was still caking his skin. he pulled him arm slightly towards him, which brought you closer too, now standing between his knees with your heart racing in your chest. you stilled for just a moment, catching his eyes with slight warning before continuing your wash.
“well, why would i keep it clean if it meant i get my pretty wife to clean it for me?” he asked as he raised his arm with a nod, grinning as he watched you rinse the suds away, hands gentle against his skin.
you rolled your eyes, running water down the length of his arm, your other hand cupping just above the wrappings to keep them from getting wet. “you’re ridiculous.”
“you’re too kind to me,” he answered instead, not an ounce of sarcasm in his tone for once as you moved to his left arm, keenly aware that he had no way to scrub this one either.
“i swore myself to you, jaime,” you reminded with a sigh as you ran your hand up and down his bicep, surprised at how his muscle had maintained even with such little food and so much adversity. he watched you, looking to your eyes as you ran your hand up to his shoulder and collarbone, faltering as it came to his jaw.
his once clean-shaven skin had a thick beard now, somehow soft to the touch despite the amount of dirt caked into it. there were a few odd grey hairs mixed into the usual dark gold, and you almost smiled at the sight, not having noticed them before now. had you not been so close, and so naked, you might have teased him about them.
you remembered a time that he would've thrown a fit over a single hair being out of place, or freaked about having greys appearing in his hair, and how he would spend a surprising amount of time in the mornings making sure he was up to par in the ways that people expected of him. despite not being a prince, he was the people's prince still, and a prince to you. he wanted to live up to it.
what a stark contrast to the ways he was forced to live now, and how he'd grown accustomed to it.
your thumb ran over the hairs again in slight wonder. as long as you’d known him, jaime had kept himself shaven, said he felt cleaner that way, and more put together. but now, you felt almost partial to the beard. it suited him. heart thumping, you thought again how it would feel against your lips, or your neck, or wherever else jaime would choose to kiss you.
you froze at the thought, and he searched your eyes for any inclination as to what was running through your mind. his hand reached gently to wrap his fingers around your elbow, leaning forward a bit to be even closer.
"careful, wife," he murmured, your heart jumping at the husk in his tone. "you'll polish me back into the man you married."
you almost wished that was possible, but you knew he was just as unfaithful then as he was now.
memories of experiences long past filled the both of you, what it felt like to be close and intimate tarnished with the knowledge (or assumption) that the other had shared that with another person. and yet you were still drawn together, that normalcy that came with covenants and the last few months of genuinely knowing each other encouraging you closer.
slowly, you ran your hand back down his now clean arm and then stepped back, clearing your throat as his hand fell from your arm.
“i think you can handle the rest,” you told him quietly, nodding to his hair and chest.
silence filled the room as you went back to your spot a ways to his side, relaxing once more in the warmth of the water even as your brain ran through a million potentials for what had just happened.
you couldn’t stick to one side, it seemed. too inclined to be angry, too inclined to be cruel, yet unable to leave him hanging in his hurt and struggle even when he’d left you too many times to count. he was surprisingly easy to be soft with; teasing jokes and lingering touches and eye contact that had your heart racing. in some ways, he was still that sparkling young man you’d found yourself obsessed with at such an early age, your own knight in shining armor. and in every other way, he was a hardened soldier who took comfort in the arms of another, and had the faults of every other man in the west.
after the silence dragged on long enough to leave the both of you stilling in your through, jaime began to clean the rest of him with his remaining hand. when you didn’t look at him or speak anymore, he tried at a new joke. "at least i didn't lose the hand i used to please you." and when that didn't earn a response, he huffed amusedly, "or, perhaps it was a reminder from the gods to stop touching things i shouldn't."
he was trying to make you laugh, and you knew it, but you also knew why; he was hurting. he always tried to smother brokenness with humor, pretending like he was fine and sometimes trying to make other people hurt instead.
unfortunately, your heart thumped in your chest at the thought of him pleasing you, it having been a long time since it happened. you also paused at the mention of him not being able to keep his hands to himself, a strange satisfaction at the acknowledgement of his wrong and also frustration with the reminder. after a quick moment, you collected yourself and let out a terribly annoyed sigh, rolling your eyes.
he grinned. "ah, there's the wife i know. for a second, i thought you'd gone tender on me."
"i've always been tender, jaime," you said with another roll of your eyes. "you're thinking of your sister again."
he twitched, eyes searching yours as he thought of a quick answer. "well, in the last few months," he scoffed. "you surely have not." he paused, eyes lingering on you for several moments before he tilted his head. "you certainly bring up my sister quite often. are you sure you're not the one obsessed with her?"
your eyes flashed to him for a frustrating second, but you quickly looked away with a frown. "are you sure she's still going to love you without a hand?"
it felt like a cruel question, but evidently it wasn't.
"yes," he answered almost casually. "it makes me even more interesting. and, she'll probably find a way to make it seem sexy - she, at least, always thinks i'm attractive."
you knitted your brows, eyes turning back to him. "what the hell is that supposed to mean?"
jaime had always been attractive to you. there wasn’t a single moment in your almost twenty five years of life that you hadn’t thought jaime lannister was a beautiful man. sure, you’ve been frustrated with him as of late, and not too interested in telling him so, but before this all you made that very clear.
even a few hours ago, in trying to distract his mind from qyburn snipping at his skin, you’d admitted it to him.
and now he alludes otherwise?
"what kind of a wife refuses her husband for months before she even learns of his infidelity?" he asked then, rolling his eyes. "you didn't even try to hide it. after winterfell everything changed." he froze for a moment and you just lingered on that, wondering what, exactly, had ticked you off and told you to stop with jaime. his attitude, probably, and the sudden realization that he was not this perfect golden knight like you thought he was. but, jaime came to a different conclusion. "though, i suppose that's where you first met your wolfish lover. didn't need me after you had him, am i right?" you knitted your brows, moving to answer but he scoffed and cut you off. "at least i had the decency to be with you and cersei."
and that just pissed you right off.
"you weren't though, jaime," you said sternly, frowning deeply. "you weren't with both of us. you left me for four years. no letters, no visits, no anything. and i did not have an affair with robb stark at winterfell."
he hummed. "only at camp, then."
"i didn't sleep with him," you answered angrily, letting out a frustrated sigh through your nose as you turned away and dropped your hands back in the water. "i'm not like you. i stick to my word."
you thought back to the kiss you'd shared with the king, the way he'd held you gently and kissed you firmly, with more passion and intent than jaime ever had. well, of course he did - jaime was too caught up thinking about another woman while he was with you. robb was only thinking about you.
"then what did you do?" jaime asked, watching you reminisce with an understanding to his tone.
he knew what it was like to think of a lover while being bound to another.
you shrugged, leaning back against the tub. you didn't want to give him the real answer - you didn't want him to think you had more in common than you did. ultimately, you'd turned robb down, and jaime... well, he'd never been able to tell cersei no.
"i listened to him," you told him without a glance. "and he listened to me."
the silence that followed had you questioning things, and it took a quick look his way to realize you may have made a mistake in judgment. he stared at the water in front of him, jaw clenched and eyes fogged in a way that made it seem as though you telling him you'd connected with robb emotionally was worse than saying you'd kissed him.
the silence dragged and you swallowed harshly, desperate for a way to fill it now.
"i'm not sure who roose is going to return you to," you admitted quietly then, watching jaime form the corner of your eye as he stewed in your previous words. "he seemed... hesitant in giving that information away. whether we'd be going back to king's landing or to robb."
"i'm sure you'd prefer the latter." he wanted to make you flinch now, because if you flinched he wouldn't be the only one at fault.
luckily, you didn't.
"if i did i would be there right now, jaime," you said, flicking the water away as you let out a frustrated sigh, definitely regretting your earlier words now.
"no, you didn't know you hated me this much until now."
"yes, and yet i'm still here because i said i always would be," you said, your annoyance bubbling in your chest as you pushed water around in front of you and refused to look at him.
a few tense moments passed and then he said, "you shouldn't be." your eyes flicked to him, frowning at the mention of refusing your own honor the way he has, but he continued. "you called cersei cruel and uncaring, said she was a liar and a cheater and maybe you're right. but, maybe she was also right, about one thing anyways. maybe she didn't come for me because she knows i'm not worth saving."
you watched him for several seconds and then looked away once more. "if i waited to help people until they were worth saving, there wouldn't be anyone left to save."
your words settled between you for a long while, jaime’s eyes falling away as he considered them harshly. he shook his head, finally murmuring, “maybe you should've waited.” you knitted your brows, looking to him and then he told you, “you have the wolf boy waiting for you in the riverlands, i have cersei in the capital. maybe we should both go where we’re wanted.”
it didn’t make sense to you, the way he was suddenly so against you helping him earlier. only an hour ago he’d asked you to stay with him while he rested, only a few minutes ago he drilled you about your relationship with robb as if he’d cared.
and now he didn’t? now, he just wanted to go back to cersei and for you to leave to the king in the north. fuck vows, fuck oaths, fuck the life you promised to each other, just go where your desires take you.
that was everything you’d stood against since everything had come out. that was everything you’d tried to avoid since you’d discovered his affair.
and you would continue to avoid it.
jaime was sworn to you, he was your husband, the father to your future children, the man you’d promised in the eyes of the gods to stand beside no matter what happened, he was yours. or so said your vows. and you would do what it took to keep it that way and actually manage a decent life for you both.
still, you stood from the bath, reaching for the towel as you stepped out of the water. his eyes traced you delicately, even when you wrapped your towel around your curves and dried quickly, ringing out your hair into the bath.
his expression was pitiful; shocked and hurt, almost. like he'd expected you to sit with him in the water until he was clean and contented.
but, it didn't keep you from pulling the simple blue dress lord bolton had provided for you over your slightly sticky skin and gathering your toiletries into the fold of the towel.
he could stew in that water until the seven themselves took pity and he would still think he was the only one hurting.
but, if he was going to continue behaving this way, you wouldn't pity the lion anymore.
you met jaime’s eyes and lied: “maybe we should.”
the surprise and confusion on his face was exactly what you’d been going for, and you tried to resist a smile as you turned and left the room.
the heat clung to you long after you left. you could still feel his gaze, his touch, his voice, the ache of every word neither of you had said.
maybe you should go where you were wanted.
the lie echoed all the way up the hall.
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