Chapter Three:

Brienne had spent the past fortnight avoiding Jaime and trying to secure Sansa Stark's release. All she had gotten were polite but firm rejections. When he sought her husband, Tyrion had become very hard to find. As it was, Brienne had not even been allowed anywhere close to the Stark girl. She was quickly growing tired of King's Landing politics. Many men and women mocked her by pretending to be her friend, and many other men began to court her, though if they were making fun of her or participating in a bet she could not say.

Often she retreated to the yard, but no one would spar with a woman. Many days she fought with a dummy, and it would have to be replaced when she was done. Sometimes she pretended it was Jaime, though more often than not she pictured Vargo Hoat and his Bloody Mummers, for taking Jaime's hand. As Brienne made her way to the yard, she noticed all the streets were blocked by a caravan of people sporting the Sunspear banners. Joffrey's wedding was today, Brienne realized. She had avoided people so much she had completely forgotten.

The wedding would be the perfect time to speak to Sansa, but Brienne did not have an invitation or a proper dress. A lady knight would not be allowed to the boy king's wedding. She had no friends here who could pull an invitation for her, and ad ress in her size could not be made in time. Brienne frowned and returned to her chambers. When she shoved the door open, Jaime leapt up from the chair in the corner. He looked distressed, but Brienne did not care.

"What are you doing in my chambers, ser?" She asked stiffly. "Going to try to watch me bathe again?" She moved away from him, and set her scabbard on the bedside vanity.

Jaime ignored the jab, but his eyes looked hardened. "I would have liked to let you avoid me for the rest of your days if it please you, but I need someone to give me counsel."

"Wouldn't you rather ask Her Grace?"Brienne said, her voice harsher than she anticipated. The contorted look on Jaime's face made her regret it. If the rumors were true, then Cersei and Jaime were in the middle of a lover's quarrel.

"Her Grace is my problem," Jaime answered. He collapsed back into the chair he had risen from. "I've been counseled to step down as Lord Commander of the King's Guard."

Brienne was shocked. "But you were just appointed," she protested. "Why would they remove you?"

In response, Jaime held up his stump. "Father says I am no longer fit to serve. Which I suppose is true."

"It isn't," Brienne insisted. "You are part of the King's Guard. They serve for life. You took an oath."

Jaime laughed mirthlessly. "Don't you remember, wench? I break those."

Brienne felt guilt wash over her, and it was immediately chased out by anger. "No, that's not true. This is not an oath you would willingly break. They can't make you resign."

Jaime gave her a rueful smile. "They can."

Brienne was insistent. "They can't make you do anything."

"Wench, you aren't giving me any counsel," Jaime ran his left hand through his tousled hair. "Will you listen or not?"

Brienne took a seat across from him, waiting. He watched her intent expression, and smiled a true smile. "My father never wanted me to be a member of the King's Guard. He wanted me to be the Lord of Casterly Rock when he dies," Jaime smiled. "Right now, a dwarf stands to inherit the South by birthright and the North by marriage. Father cannot abide that."

"If you are his preferred heir, why would you take the white cloak?" Brienne asked. "I understand why I did. I did it to escape marriage, but," she paused as Jaime's expression contorted again. "Oh. You did it for her."

Jaime looked away. "Another sin you'll have to forgive me for committing."

Brienne found this conversation significantly more difficult. "I don't have to forgive you for anything. You cannot help who you love," even as she said it, a vice closed around her throat, and she found that every breath brought tears to her eyes. She turned away to hide it.

"I couldn't let Cersei come to place she did not know to marry a man who did not love her. I came here to protect her, and it seems I have fulfilled my uses." He looked both furious and miserable. "I'm being retired so I do not bring shame to the Lannister name," an ironic smile twisted his grizzled features. "I think I've already covered that."

Brienne shook her head, almost letting a few tears loose. "You have brought more honor to your family than your siblings combined." A tear, as stubborn as its creator, snaked down her broad cheek.

She heard Jaime before she saw him. His good hand turned her to face him, and though he looked pained, there were no tears in his eyes. "Do not cry for me, wench," he said, wiping the tear away with his thumb. His other fingers splayed themselves across her freckly cheek, hesitating gently. She felt her hands, but she left her eyes locked on his.

"Thank you for your counsel," he said softly. Instinctively, her eyes dropped to his mouth to understand the words he was saying. He quirked one side of his lips upward.

"I didn't give you any counsel," she protested weakly. His hand on her face was disorienting her more than any blow to the head did.

He swayed closer to her, and Brienne had to forcibly remember to breathe. "But you did. I know what I can do." He leaned ever close and Brienne shoved him back, but gently. "That's the wench I remember. Don't go falling in love with me now," he joked.

Brienne felt heat on her cheeks. "Don't worry, Ser Jaime," she replied. "I'm not interested."

Jaime paused outside Brienne's door once again that night, dressed in his whites. He thought back to the wench on the other side of the door and an unbidden smile threatened to take over his face. His hand on her face had been a comforting gesture at first, but he could feel the immediate tension in the room and decided to push his luck as far as he could. As soon as her eyes dropped to his mouth, though, he had lost all track of thought. Her instinctive response was so feminine he had been caught off-guard. He felt a clench in his stomach that he had originally attributed to amusement.

But he was wrong. It was desire. He had leaned closer to her then, though where his lips would have landed he could not have said. But she pushed him away, and the spell had been broken. But that clench in his stomach was hard to forget. And so here he was, waiting for a girl who had consumed him fully, like no woman had since Cersei. But the way Cersei consumed him was like wildfire, horrible and enchanting to watch, but destructive and deadly. Brienne made him lighter, made him better than he could ever hope to be, and yet more terrible than he had ever been.

He gently knocked on the door, and he heard the unfamiliar rustle of skirts as Brienne approached the door. He had taken the horrid pink dress his father left for her and had it dyed a dark blue. It would not match her eyes, and there was no hiding the plainness of the dress, but it would cover all the pink.

Brienne opened the door, looking unhappy but determined. Her eyes were truly magnificent, even though the dress was too dark. Jaime smiled at her anyway.

"You scrub up nice, wench," he said with a laugh in his voice. "Seriously," he brushed past her into her chambers and held up a small strap of leather and a dagger.

"What is that?" She asked warily. "I'm already wearing the damn slippers."

"Lift up your skirts," he commanded.

She gave him an unamused look. "Look, Lannister –,"

"Just trust me, you'll thank me later," he insisted. "Unless you want to walk around all night unarmed."

Brienne hitched her skirts up to her knees. Jaime felt the clench in his stomach and shoved it away. "Higher."

She gave him an ugly look and Jaime laughed. He took one strap of the leather and reached blindly up her skirts, ignoring her discontent. He hooked one strap around the waist of her small clothes, and the other around the fleshy portion of her thigh. As he slid the dagger into its sheath, he heard her contented sigh. In a rush of moment he stood up and reached for her face again.

She deflected it out of reflex, and he wrapped his maimed arm around her neck and brought her mouth to his. The sheer sweet, sweaty taste of her drove him wild. Her lips were shocked, unyielding, but he coaxed her, softly at first, then rougher. When he realized nothing would make her want to kiss him, he broke away.

"Damn you, wench," he cursed. "Damn you to all seven hells." She did not reply, and he immediately knew why. Damn those other men who made her so mistrustful. "I'm not japing you," he said, agonized. He wished he was. He wanted to badly not to want her. He wanted even more badly to be inside her head, to know what she was thinking.

Her reply was soft and insecure. "Why then?"

Jaime put his head in his hand. "Far too many reasons to enumerate at present. We have a wedding to attend. Remember, I have been courting you since I found out I had to step down from the King's Guard. Your family has a large dowry of silver and sapphires, and such, and your father is anxious for you to marry, even if it is to a cripple." Brienne opened her mouth to respond. "That is our cover story, alright?"

Brienne nodded and repeated it back to him.

"Good," he said. "Now remember, you have to laugh at my jokes, or it'll be suspicious."

Brienne laughed.

"Yes, like that," he said. "Now, I know you're repulsed by a Kingslayer and an oath breaker, but try to play along."

Brienne hated dresses. She hated that she was so confined, that the sleeves were so long she could trip, and mostly, that she wasn't wearing pants. Right then, however, she hated herself more. She had long ago resigned herself to the idea that she would be married off to a man she did not love, who did not love her, and would have to show him affection, give him her maidenhead, and bear him children.

After the bet Ser Hyle and his men had brokered, she knew for a fact that a kiss born from true attraction was never possible for her. She had let that harden her heart, except for Renly. She had tended her feelings for him like a fragile rose bush, only to have it uprooted when he died in her arms. So when Jaime had kissed her, she had been sure it was a joke; so sure that she had forgotten to respond. Maybe she didn't know how to respond. Now, the only chance she had gotten for a kiss born of attraction was extinguished, and would probably never happen again. She had lost the chance for a kiss that wasn't done for duty.

As she stumbled along beside Jaime, she watched his face, like she had when they first entered King's Landing. His face was flushed, his eyes bright, but his mouth was set in a hard line. He was angry with her.

"Ser Jaime?" She asked tentatively. His hand, resting on hers in the crook of his arm, tensed to show that he was listening. But he did not look at her. "I'm sorry." He turned to look. "For . . . you know."

Jaime's mouth softened, "Let's just pretend it never happened."

Brienne frowned. "I only meant . . . you caught me by surprise."

Jaime almost screeched to a halt outside the throne room, where the reception would take place. Brienne had made him skip the ceremony when she decided she did not want to wear a dress after all. It had taken him three hours to convince her. "Wench, allow me to understand this," he smiled his smug grin, and Brienne rolled her eyes. "The Maid of Tarth, and the most honorable knight in the Seven Kingdoms wishes to be kissed by the Kingslayer?"

Brienne shrugged, unwilling to give him the satisfaction of being right. Jaime, sensing the lighter atmosphere, laughed.

"Alright wench, I mean, my lady," Jaime brushed a piece of sandy hair from her eyes and led her in. "Let's get this mummer's farce over with." The first few steps of their entrance was interrupted by Tywin Lannister.

"I see you saw fit to dye the dress we set out for you two weeks ago, my lady," Tywin said, his eyes on his son. "Jaime, if you were going to bring your paramour to the wedding, you should have spoken to me about it first. And since you have a woman on your arm, you should not be wearing your whites."

Jaime bristled. "It is my nephew's wedding, Father. I am still a member of the King's Guard until all the paperwork goes through. I am still entitled to wear this armor."

His father did not look abashed. "And yet you choose to shirk the oath of forsaking a woman, but not the part of the oath that says you shall not wear white."

Brienne frowned. "He did not take a woman, he is only following your orders. The matter of his wardrobe is irrelevant. Should you be judging your son for wearing white? Or your daughter, for wearing the same ivory as her new good-daughter?" She tugged on Jaime's arm. "But I am just a lady. It is not my place to speak of the shame of House Lannister."

Jaime kept his eyes on his father as Brienne pulled him away. "What the hell was that, wench? You realize Tywin Lannister could have you killed in less than a minute, by any man in this room?"

Brienne's eyes captured his. "Not all men." She glanced back at Tywin, who had turned away. "I am not afraid of a man who cannot fight his own battles." She left her eyes in the thrall of his, feeling that great kinship they had developed flow between them. What she liked the most about Jaime was that he was a lot like her, in a different way. It made them similar and opposite, a haphazard complement that neither had expected, but suited them both.

"Shall we dance, my lady?" Jaime asked, bowing with his stump hidden behind his back.

Brienne's face immediately reddened. "I would rather not," she said.

"Come on, it'll be fun. I'm wonderfully graceful, for a cripple. I bet I can make even you look good."

Brienne turned away from him, looking for a reason to flee. "Shouldn't we be looking for Lady Sansa?"

Jaime grabbed her arm and brought her back. "Yes, my lady, which is why we need to dance." He jerked his head in the direction of the dancers, and Brienne could vaguely see a head of copper colored hair mixed in with the rest.

Brienne sighed.

Jaime laughed. "So, wench. May I escort you to the dance floor?"

A/N: I really wanted to put the whole wedding in this chapter, but it would have been much too long. So I apologize for that. But it will be in the next chapter!