“As much as it pains me to say so, it seems like you won your freedom, ser.”
Jaime just barely hears it - he couldn’t care less for what Stannis Baratheon, newly crowned ruler of the seven kingdoms, has to say about his trial.
The only thing he can focus on is Brienne standing in the middle of the yard, her sword (the one that was his) dripping with the blood of one of Stannis’s men, who’s currently bleeding out on the ground. He’ll live, Jaime thinks, but he really doesn’t care about that. (He can’t even believe that Brienne would do it, he can’t believe that she was the one stepping in, he hadn’t even known she was in King’s Landing - hadn’t she said that she’d bring Sansa Stark home? He needs to ask her at some point, but not now.)
“So it seems,” he says, turning towards the king. A guard comes forward and removes the chains that had been binding his left hand to the stump on his right.
“You won your freedom,” Stannis hisses, not quite grinding his teeth but almost. “That doesn’t mean that you gained anything else.”
As if Jaime thought that he’d be given back Casterly Rock with his title.
As if Jaime has given all of it any thought since he joined the Kingsguard. As if he hasn’t refused it twice.
“Do I have your leave to thank my champion?” he asks, trying not to rile Stannis up - that’s not what he needs.
“You have your leave.”
Jaime doesn’t waste time with courtesies and walks through the yard where he used to practice when he still was in the Kingsguard (isn’t it ironic that they held his trial there) until he stops in front of Brienne. She look tired, he thinks after she removes her helm.
“You didn’t have to,” he says, and damn but it wasn’t what he had meant to tell her first.
“I think I did,” she replies. She sounds tired. She puts her sword back in place, turning as if she intends to walk away, and no, that’s not the plan.
He puts a hand on her arm and stops her. “I think you forgot something.”
“What do you mean?”
“I thought you knew your songs better. The fair maiden usually thanks her knight, when he saves her life.”
Her eyes go wide, but then she shakes his head. “You don’t need to - I’m not a fair maid. This makes no sense.”
“And who said that you were the fair maid in this story, wench?”
So, in the songs the maiden usually kisses the knight’s cheek, give or take. But it’s not like he has to follow the rules just the way they are - he never cared much for that, anyway.
And so he puts his hand on her cheek and pulls her head down (with the armor she’s taller) and he kisses her.
Two things happen, at that. First, Brienne actually kisses back, even if nothing more than returning the pressure. Second, the entire audience falls silent.
Jaime grins into the kiss and pushes his tongue forward, and he really hopes that he takes her by surprise and that she doesn’t move away. He’s right, for once - she’s probably too stunned to do something different and so she kisses back for real, her tongue moving tentatively against his, her dirty hands buried in his hair, and it’s obvious that she’s never done this before but it just makes Jaime shiver and kiss her deeper.
When they have to part for hair, he stares at her and hopes that she doesn’t even think about moving.
“You’re mad,” she whispers, and the audience is still silent. Good. “What are you even thinking?” Her cheeks are flushed though, and her lips swollen, and gods but he wants to kiss her again.
“I was giving my thanks. But if you let me do that again, it’s going to be because I wanted to.”
“You can’t -”
“I do,” he interrupts her. “And I’d do it again. Hells, if you agree I’d do it again right now. I’m afraid it’s everything I can provide for now, but -”
“You mean it,” she whispers. He raises an eyebrow - well, yes, he wouldn’t have kissed her like that in front of the entire court and a good number of smallfolk if he hadn’t.
And then she slams her mouth against his again and her lips are cracked and hot and swollen against his own and Jaime isn’t moving away anytime soon.
Everyone else can enjoy the sight, for all that he cares.
Jaime just barely hears it - he couldn’t care less for what Stannis Baratheon, newly crowned ruler of the seven kingdoms, has to say about his trial.
The only thing he can focus on is Brienne standing in the middle of the yard, her sword (the one that was his) dripping with the blood of one of Stannis’s men, who’s currently bleeding out on the ground. He’ll live, Jaime thinks, but he really doesn’t care about that. (He can’t even believe that Brienne would do it, he can’t believe that she was the one stepping in, he hadn’t even known she was in King’s Landing - hadn’t she said that she’d bring Sansa Stark home? He needs to ask her at some point, but not now.)
“So it seems,” he says, turning towards the king. A guard comes forward and removes the chains that had been binding his left hand to the stump on his right.
“You won your freedom,” Stannis hisses, not quite grinding his teeth but almost. “That doesn’t mean that you gained anything else.”
As if Jaime thought that he’d be given back Casterly Rock with his title.
As if Jaime has given all of it any thought since he joined the Kingsguard. As if he hasn’t refused it twice.
“Do I have your leave to thank my champion?” he asks, trying not to rile Stannis up - that’s not what he needs.
“You have your leave.”
Jaime doesn’t waste time with courtesies and walks through the yard where he used to practice when he still was in the Kingsguard (isn’t it ironic that they held his trial there) until he stops in front of Brienne. She look tired, he thinks after she removes her helm.
“You didn’t have to,” he says, and damn but it wasn’t what he had meant to tell her first.
“I think I did,” she replies. She sounds tired. She puts her sword back in place, turning as if she intends to walk away, and no, that’s not the plan.
He puts a hand on her arm and stops her. “I think you forgot something.”
“What do you mean?”
“I thought you knew your songs better. The fair maiden usually thanks her knight, when he saves her life.”
Her eyes go wide, but then she shakes his head. “You don’t need to - I’m not a fair maid. This makes no sense.”
“And who said that you were the fair maid in this story, wench?”
So, in the songs the maiden usually kisses the knight’s cheek, give or take. But it’s not like he has to follow the rules just the way they are - he never cared much for that, anyway.
And so he puts his hand on her cheek and pulls her head down (with the armor she’s taller) and he kisses her.
Two things happen, at that. First, Brienne actually kisses back, even if nothing more than returning the pressure. Second, the entire audience falls silent.
Jaime grins into the kiss and pushes his tongue forward, and he really hopes that he takes her by surprise and that she doesn’t move away. He’s right, for once - she’s probably too stunned to do something different and so she kisses back for real, her tongue moving tentatively against his, her dirty hands buried in his hair, and it’s obvious that she’s never done this before but it just makes Jaime shiver and kiss her deeper.
When they have to part for hair, he stares at her and hopes that she doesn’t even think about moving.
“You’re mad,” she whispers, and the audience is still silent. Good. “What are you even thinking?” Her cheeks are flushed though, and her lips swollen, and gods but he wants to kiss her again.
“I was giving my thanks. But if you let me do that again, it’s going to be because I wanted to.”
“You can’t -”
“I do,” he interrupts her. “And I’d do it again. Hells, if you agree I’d do it again right now. I’m afraid it’s everything I can provide for now, but -”
“You mean it,” she whispers. He raises an eyebrow - well, yes, he wouldn’t have kissed her like that in front of the entire court and a good number of smallfolk if he hadn’t.
And then she slams her mouth against his again and her lips are cracked and hot and swollen against his own and Jaime isn’t moving away anytime soon.
Everyone else can enjoy the sight, for all that he cares.
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