Jaime is alive. When he appears at Winterfell with hopes of winning back his true love, Brienne, events do not exactly unfold as he had planned. What will Jaime find when he faces Brienne for the first time since leaving her on that fateful night...
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Jaime barely felt the sting of his lower lip as Brienne softly pressed the wet cloth to the gash opened there by the morning's foe. He cared not about the discomfort or any scar which might be left, considering both as badges of honor in defense of the woman who would soon be his wife. She sat now before him, her precious face loving and consumed with care. He stared at Brienne, captivated as if she were a dream. Jaime realized it was not the first time he had beheld her that way, lovestruck and awed. He recalled the times he watched her, his heart aching, unable to declare the love that burned within him. At last, nothing would ever part them again.
As Jaime's thoughts carried on without him, Brienne pulled the damp linen back from his mouth, grimacing as she saw the blood that had collected upon it. She sighed slowly, and raised her fingers to his jaw. Gently she drew her thumb over the wound, hoping to sooth the swollen and broken skin. "Why did you do this?" Brienne questioned, her brow creased with worry.
Jaime took Brienne's hand solidly within his grasp, swearing a silent oath to her. "No one will ever question your character, not while I draw breath." Jaime proclaimed proudly. "I shall exact my retribution upon whomever has the audacity to speak your name with contempt." He told her. To him she was a goddess and blaspheming against her, a mortal sin.
Brienne lowered her eyes under Jaime's adoration. "I don't need anyone to defend me." She replied quietly. "I can take care of myself. I've been doing so all my life." Brienne reminded him, even as she recalled each time he had willingly faced danger and death so that she would be protected.
Drawing closer to her, Jaime caught Brienne in his gaze. "I know you have." He acknowledged. "And The God's help any man who has underestimated you." He smiled in worship. Brienne granted him a bashful grin in response. Jaime pulled her into his arms. "You shall never again need to face those threats alone." He vowed.
"You have me, now." Jaime proclaimed triumphantly to Brienne. "I shall be your husband and protector." His eyes danced with glee at his new position.
Brienne stared transfixed into the brilliant emerald jewels that were Jaime's eyes. "You have kept me safe." She answered, her face clouding with the memories of his sacrifice as her graceful caress trailed over the mangled and scarred flesh of his stumped arm. "You have already given so much for me." Brienne's voice quivered, her voice failing her.
Jaime held her even tighter to him. He studied the space where his right hand had once been, and scoffed. "I have given nothing." He told Brienne earnestly. "Every scourge and regret I count against my own life was forged by that very sword hand." He lamented. "Each loathsome deed which was accomplished in Cersei's name was done with those fingers wrapped around my steel." Jaime's lips twisted in disgust as he spoke. "It was with that appendage that I struck down my own king, and was labeled traitor because of it." Jaime smirked. "I am well rid of it." He declared.
Then, without even an expression of trauma or remorse, Jaime's glowering became a wistful smile. His gaze turned reverently back to Brienne, her face resting against his chest as she looked up into his eyes. "Its' loss saved your life." Jaime sighed in relief, weaving his fingers through the sunshine of Brienne's hair. "That, I could never grieve." He kissed her temple. "I have gained so much more." Jaime smiled in wonder, his hand tracing the curve of Brienne's rounded belly, where it came to rest protectively atop the tiny stirrings of life within her.
