Season 8 Fics

I remember when I was golden

They ask why he comes to the North, and he does not tell them the truth.

He tells them other things. 

That during the fight between the living and the dead, fighting for the living would be preferable.  That his sister's bed was a cold one to share, and he does not fancy dying along with her.  That this wasn't about loyalty, this is about survival.

The truth was much more simple than that.

He loves her.

She's a great beast of a woman, and yet he loves her.

Would you fight with him? Sansa asked, and everyone is staring at them, each of these men wanting to tear Jaime apart for what he had done to their leige lord and every one a better swordsman than him, and he remembers the last time that he had come here, the wreckage that he rained down upon them.

He waits.

They wait.

Brienne waits, for one trembling second, and then, I would, and Jaime wants to tell her that he loves her right here, in front of everyone, even the Dragon Queen and the Stark girls.

He wonders if it would be welcome.

There's not really any time to find out.

The thing is, she thinks that he's a man of honor.

It's an interesting thing.  And maybe he is.  Maybe she's the only one who thinks it because she's the only one who knows the truth, about the mad king and those last moments, burn, burn, burn them all and he wonders what would happen if he went to the Dragon Queen and kneeled at her feet, told her that he was sorry that she had spent her life on the run, that her birthright was ripped from her, but he had done what he did so that the city could stay standing.  She might feel differently, then, if she knew that he was the only reason she even had a chance at claiming the Iron Throne.

(The Throne.  He thinks they should tear the thing down, piece by piece.)

He doesn't know if she's right, but she believes it, and he intends to live up to it, so when he's standing in the court yard and having her right beside him again, watching his movements out of the corner of his eye and telling him to insult her, damn it, he does not tell her that he loves her, not like he wants to.

He knows, somehow, that it would not be welcome.  That the respect that she has here from the men is not something that she takes lightly, and one that she had to claw her way towards, inch by inch, and she does not deserve to be asked to give it up for the likes of him, no matter how much she might want to.  And he knows that sometimes it is kinder not to say things even when they are true.

It would be a terrible thing, to die the day he tells her that he loves her.

"It would be an honor to fight under your command," He says, and the word honor still feels funny on his tongue, and he hopes she knows, somehow, that he is not only talking about the battle- he is talking about this day and every day after it, into any battle that she walks into and all the peaceful moments inbetween.  "If you'll have me."

He hadn't expected Tormund.

Hadn't expected to be bothered by him, either.

It's only- he's not a bad man, Tormund.  Not a rich man, maybe, but not a craven, and a good fighter, and there's something to be said for that, when there's a brave man sitting in front of you with obvious interest on his face when you've been told all your life that no one will ever want you, not blinking an eye at the fact that she is a better fighter than most of the men in this castle, all starry eyed and saying fuck tradition.  He might have been a wildling, but Brienne has a bit of the wild in her, too.