Work Text:
It had been about a month. Ok, that wasn’t true. It was 3 weeks, 5 days and oh, around 23 hours since Jaime had walked out of the door and left her alone. Brienne knew. She’d counted.
Initially there had been dumbfounded shock. A sort of numbness with a feeling of dread coiled in her belly that the only man she had ever truly loved was irrevocably gone. That had lasted for precisely 24 hours until she had gone for a drink with Sansa and had to actually verbalise that it was over and thank God they’d picked a bar near her apartment because once the floodgates had opened, it was difficult to stop. Sansa had shepherded her home before she made a public spectacle of herself and she’d ended up wailing, embarrassingly ugly-crying and telling Sansa the whole thing while she had listened, given her a hug and ordered Yi Ti takeout on RavenEats and forced her to eat it.
“I just…,” she’d sniffled between mouthfuls of rice, “thought he was the one.” But he’d gone and all Sansa could really do was rub her soothingly on the back, pass tissues and promise to check in the next day.
Fortunately - or perhaps unfortunately, depending on how you look at it - the next day had been Saturday and without work or any other responsibilities, she had fallen apart and wallowed. There’d been tears. There’d been lying on the floor with no desire to move. There’d been a big bar of chocolate that she thought would make her feel better but which she barely tasted. In the end she’d gone to bed early on Sunday night, both bored and exhausted by her grief and slept for 14 straight hours to find that her sadness had been replaced by a simmering fury imbuing her with nervous energy.
She’d hit the gym and easily knocked her previous personal bests out of the park. She barely noticed the time passing or the burn as the miles slipped away under her feet with her mind so fully occupied with how angry she was at Jaime, replaying their last conversation in her head over and over and thinking about what she should have said instead.
It had all started when Jaime’s father and sister had been in town. She’d met his brother Tyrion before a few times since they had started dating but never Tywin and Cersei. Although Tyrion didn’t seem to be much of a fan of the two of them, Jaime seemed to love them and families were complicated, weren’t they? She hadn’t given it a second thought when Jaime had suggested that they all have dinner together and Cersei had suggested The Baratheon, a fancy hotel owned by her husband, Robert. In retrospect, that should have been her first clue that things would not run smoothly. She’d never been but Sansa had and said it was stuffy, overpriced and snobby and the food wasn’t nice at all. Also, according to Jaime, the marriage was on the rocks and Robert wouldn’t be there though that clearly hadn’t stopped Cersei from choosing the restaurant.
The second sign was when Jaime had called around to pick her up.
“Is that what you’re wearing?”
“Well yeah, I figured I couldn’t just wear jeans.”
“No of course not, but - look, you know I love that dress, right?”
She did. They’d fucked several times with it up around her waist, after all. Jaime always said it complemented her eyes and showed off her legs.
“It’s just - don’t you have anything fancier?”
He was wearing a very sharp suit. And looking mighty fine in it to boot. But…
“I don’t really have clothes like that. I don’t need them. Normally.”
“Ok, never mind, I think you look stunning in any case.”
And with that, he’d given her a smooch and they’d headed off.
Tywin and Cersei were waiting for them at the table when they arrived. Both had stood up to shake her hand but Brienne hadn’t missed the once over and sneer Cersei had given her or the displeased furrowing of Tywin’s brow.
It hadn’t gone much better over dinner.
“So Jaime tells me you’re a friend of his from the Law Centre he volunteers at. Do you also volunteer there?”
A friend?!
“No, I’m full-time staff.”
“Oh, one of the coordinators?”
“No, I’m also a lawyer. While we’re really grateful for lawyers like Jaime who do pro bono work, you do need full time lawyers to ensure the continuity of case work.”
“That can’t pay much.’
Brienne had thought it pretty vulgar to talk so frankly about salary to an almost complete stranger but whatever.
“Well, I’m not really in it for the money.”
“That explains the dress,” Cersei had said, purposefully not quite under her breath.
“But one day, you’ll be a proper lawyer, like Jaime?”
“I’m a proper lawyer already.”
“Indeed.” Twyin took a sip of wine, unconvinced. By this point, Brienne’s skin was burning, indignant and humiliated. But this was Jaime’s family. So she bit her tongue and took a bite of the venison Cersei had insisted they all try even though Brienne would have preferred the vegetarian quiche. Sansa had been right. The meat was dry, the sauce was over salted and the vegetables had been boiled to a mushy texture.
“It’s nice for Jaime to get involved in these projects but I do worry they take up so much of his time. He really ought to be mingling in society a bit more.”
“Yes, it’s his responsibility to meet a girl from a good family and make a match - and soon,” Cersei looked across at her smiling pityingly.
Brienne glanced at Jaime bewildered. He was flushed and looked unhappy but didn’t say anything.
The rest of the meal passed in uncomfortable small talk and as they all took their leave, Tywin finished with “Well, it was a pleasure to meet one of Jaime’s friends from the centre.” His cold look did not make it seem like it had been a pleasure at all.”Don’t worry, we’ll support it. It’s good for business after all, to be seen supporting the small folk. I’ll send a cheque with Jaime next time he goes in.”
It hadn’t been until Jaime had seen Brienne home that the almighty row had started.
“You didn’t tell them we’re together? I’m just a gold-digging friend from the shelter?! Looking for donations!!”
“Of course I told him!”
“I didn’t see you correcting him!”
“Look it’s complicated ok? Correcting him would have just caused a massive row, it wouldn’t have helped anything and it’s not worth that.”
“Not worth it for who? For you? What about me? Can you imagine how awful that was for me? And you not saying a word!”
“I know but -”
“If you knew, you should have done something about it!”
And so it had gone on. Jaime, while seemingly aware of his family’s faults, also could not see his way through to standing up to his family on her behalf. Meanwhile -
“Honestly Jaime, if you can’t truly stand up and say you are with me, then maybe you shouldn’t be with me at all.”
“Brienne, you don’t understand. I love you -”
“You know what? You don’t. You can’t possibly. Because if you loved someone you would never treat them that way. Oh my God. You don’t love me.”
“I do, Brienne, please -”
“No. Stop. No, I don’t want to hear this. I’m bloody worth more than this. You’ve made your choice. Family. You care more about upsetting them with the truth than you care about how I feel. You know what? You can just fuck right off Jaime Lannister. Go! I’m serious. I never want to see you again!”
And he’d left. He hadn’t called her. He hadn’t been back to the Law Centre. And she hadn’t seen him since.
After the initial shock and anger, she’d pulled it together. She carried on working. Her work meant something to her after all. And she’d carried on living, to all intents and purposes, a fulfilling life. She pushed down the pain and the hurt and threw herself into work and gym and friends. But she missed him. And now here in her hand was her phone buzzing with a text message.
“Hey, I’m in the area. Mind if I call around to pick up some stuff? I can be there in 10.”
Brienne’s phone hovered over the send button. Maybe she could just put his stuff in a box by the door and avoid him completely? But then she took a deep breath and sent “Ok”.
When Jaime had left Brienne’s apartment 3 weeks, 5 days and oh, around 23 hours ago, he’d mainly felt angry. How dare she say I don’t love her? How dare she tell me to leave? Stupid, stubborn woman! He was bewildered and furious. This feeling had burned itself out pretty quickly. But it had been replaced by desolation as he realised that she meant what she had said. She wouldn’t stand for him not defending her in front of his family and he’d messed up. That was it. She never wanted to see him again. So no matter how tempting it was to call her up or message her, he had to face the fact that he’d blown it. You can’t let a woman be totally belittled by your family and not expect there to be consequences. However he didn’t have a lot of time available to him for mooning. His corporate law firm had just taken on a big case and he was charged with overseeing it. Normally he would relish the challenge and while it did keep him busy, it was like the light had gone from his life and he was just going through the motions. He’d been ignoring calls from his father and Cersei and otherwise not going out very much. Finally, almost 4 weeks after the break-up, he met Tyrion for drinks at a bar not far from Brienne’s apartment.
“Jaime, geez. You look terrible,” had been Tyrion’s opening line.
“What the - come on, this is a nice outfit!”
“I’m not talking about your clothes. You’re dead behind the eyes! Is it still Brienne?”
Said eyes adopted a mournful, far away expression.
“Ok, so you’re still sad about Brienne.”
“Well, it doesn’t matter if I’m sad about it, she never wants to see me again!”
“Are you sure?”
“Well, she said it and she doesn’t say things she doesn’t mean!”
“Oh, I’m sure she meant it. You were a total twat. Perhaps you can’t expect Father and Cersei to like someone as non-mainstream as Brienne but God, you should have at least put them right about the fact you were dating, you know they were just pretending now to know.”
“I know, you don’t have to remind me!”
“Anyway, that’s beside the point. The point is I’m sure she meant it at the time, feeling justifiably upset but do you think she still means it now? Do you really think there’s no hope if you talk it through?”
“Do you think so?” For the first time, it seemed like a light shone behind his eyes.
“I mean, if you’re prepared to take responsibility, then maybe?”
“But I mean - how do I even go about it? I can’t just call her up and be like, hey let’s talk, it’s been almost a month.”
“Well, you probably could - but there’s another way. Do you still have any of your stuff over there?”
The doorbell rang. Without bothering to pick up, Brienne buzzed him in. Living on the third floor, there was always an uncomfortable gap between letting someone in and them making it up the stairs. It always felt awkward. She never knew whether to open the door and wait as her guests came up, risking looking over eager or leaving the door closed and either trying to guess the moment people would reach the landing or forcing them to knock and potentially feeling unwelcome.
This time, Brienne was feeling nervous and half dreaded seeing Jaime. So she left the door shut and paced anxiously in her small hallwy. Then she stopped pacing, worrying that the sound of her footsteps would drown out the sound of the door. A few seconds later, she heard the knock. All the water in her mouth seemed to be directed to her palms, which she wiped on the sides of her jeans before opening the door.
There he stood. He was dressed casually in dark blue jeans, a black shirt and a leather jacket. In the time since he had last been in her apartment, she had not seen him, had tried to not even look at photos - which, she could see now, did not do him full justice. His hair was slightly overgrown but his designer stubble was just the right length, highlighting a strong and perfect jaw. He looked worried, unsure of his reception, even as he took her breath away. For a second, all she could do was stand and stare. Then his worried expression turned into a cocky eyebrow raise.
“Are you going to let me in or just stand there, wench?”
It broke the spell. With a scowl, Brienne stepped aside and gestured him to come in.
“You lost the right to call me ‘wench’ when you left.”
“In your opinion, I never had the right to call you wench. So that much hasn’t changed, at least.”
The hall was narrow and as he passed, she caught a whiff of his cologne - something lemony but warm and underneath just a subtle hint of something else, something not from a bottle, something that was uniquely him.
Although she hadn’t gone to the extent of putting his belongings outside the door in a cardboard box, she had gathered them all together on the coffee table.
“Ok, so this is it,” she gestured.
He looked at it and then looked back at her, his earlier bravado gone.
“I’m sorry. You were right. That I should have stood up for you. But you were also wrong. Because I did,” he took a deep breath, “I do love you. So…”
“Ok. Um, apology accepted I guess.”
There was an awkward pause. Nothing for it but for him to gather up his things and leave.
He looked so disappointed. Was she really going to let him leave? Did she really want him to? Or did she want him to stay, work things out…
“Wait a minute. Where’s my kingslayer mug?”
“I put it in the top of that cupboard.”
“Seriously?”
“What? I didn’t want to be reminded of you.”
“Maybe you should have been reminded of me. Maybe then you’d have called.”
“Well, it’s not like you called me!”
“Did you want me to call you? You said you never wanted to see me again!”
A sullen silence. He took that as a no. He headed into the kitchen, opened the door and he could see, as she said, that the cup was on the top shelf. Standing on tiptoe, he reached up for it but it was pushed slightly too far back from the edge for him to grasp. He jumped up to grab it and narrowly missed swiping a souvenir pint glass off the shelf onto the floor.
“Don’t be ridiculous, you’ll have the whole shelf down!” Brienne exclaimed.
“Well, then grab me a chair or something!”
“Oh, move aside!” She pushed him away and stretched up, her extra inch allowing her long fingers to hook the handle. Jaime couldn’t help but admire how her breasts lifted and her belly tautened as her muscles uncoiled to their full length. Before he was really aware of it, she was back down, cupboard closed and standing close to him. Very close.
Jaime found himself looking directly into her eyes. The blue eyes that were so pretty and incapable of hiding her feelings. The blue eyes that were gazing at him now, not with anger or hurt but with longing and desire. Feelings that he could sense were mirrored in his own eyes, in his body, tingling at her proximity.
She had intended to stay as far away from him as possible, to protect her heart, to protect her sanity. But bloody Jaime, frustrating as usual. Stepping in to prevent him from destroying her kitchen had been a knee jerk reaction. It wasn’t her fault that he hadn’t moved far enough out of the way but just stood there gawping at her. And now he was gazing at her with that look in his eyes, a look that she recognised from days gone past. A look that shrank the world down to just the two of them, that said that nothing else mattered. She was frozen, unwilling to move away, break the spell of this timeless moment and go back to a reality where they were broken up and irreconcilable but also unable to move forward and seize this opportunity that would just prolong the pain of their inevitable parting.
“So,’ said Jaime after what seemed like an aeon, his eyes not leaving hers. “I suppose I should take this.” He reached out his arm to take the cup from her unresisting hand, his warm, strong fingers trailing across hers as he grasped it. Her breath hitched. He placed the cup on the counter and settled his hand on the counter, the tips of his fingers just brushing hers. It could have been an accident. It wasn’t. She did not move away.
“I don’t want to walk out of here again,” he said, his voice husky. That was it, his cards on the table.
“Then don’t,” she breathed. She shifted her fingers, almost infinitesimally to brush against his and that was all it took before his mouth was on hers, his arm twined around her waist, pulling her closer. Automatically she wound her arms around his shoulders, fingers tangling in his hair, making him moan involuntarily into her mouth. It felt like a relief to have his body on hers again, as though the heat of his body was melting away the tension in her muscles or as though balm was being administered to a wound. There was a rightness to how this felt, a rightness that she hadn’t experienced since he had left. It was like coming home.
“Jaime,” she murmured against his lips.
“Oh, Brienne,” he sighed, moving his lips to the corner of her mouth, the side of her jaw, skimming his nose down the side of her neck and planting soft kisses along her clavicle. She tipped her head back, eyes closing, to allow him better access and she both felt and heard him inhale her scent before running his tongue further south to the tops of her breasts just peeking above her strappy top. He pulled away slightly, causing Brienne to open her eyes and he looked up, as though asking permission. She nodded and his hands travelled up her waist, framing her breasts. He rubbed an experimental thumb over the thin fabric stretching over her nipples and watched as it pebbled. With his other hand, his fingers unhooked the strap from her shoulder, leaving it hanging over her upper arm. He traced his fingers over the skin he had just bared before applying his lips to it, kissing gently, his tongue caressing her skin, the fabric dipping lower but not quite low enough….and then he transferred his attention to the other breast, hooking the fabric, kissing, licking…such sweet agony.
“Oh Jaime, please just - “ she gasped in frustration.
“Please do what?” he said, smirking up at her with a faux innocent expression on his face. This had been their game, to tease her until she demanded more.
This time she just growled at him, removed her hands from where they were wound into his curls and brazenly yanked down her straps still further, to reveal her breasts thrust out wantonly, nipples hard and begging for some attention.
All thoughts of teasing gone, he lowered his head to one nipple, dropped a light kiss, then flicked it with his tongue while he cupped the other breast with his hand, the nipple protruding into his palm. Brienne moaned as he started to suck, gently at first, then harder. After a while his other hand wandered down her spine and slid under her tracksuit bottoms, squeezing her arse. At that, Brienne decided her own hands should go for a bit of a wander. She brought them around his neck to brush over his pecs, down his abs, rippling under her fingers and back up to his collar bone. She pulled her breast free from his mouth with a slight pop and brought her own lips to his neck, kissing downwards until she reached the meat of his shoulder where she couldn’t resist sinking her teeth, making him gasp with pleasure. She transferred her lips to his chest, unbuttoning as she went so she could kiss him further and eventually found herself kneeling before him, her hands caressing his sides, dipping into the valleys his abs created while her tongue followed his snail trail. She looked up at him, then ran a hand experimentally over the bulge in his jeans. He closed his eyes in pleasure so she kept rubbing and increased the pressure until he was gritting his teeth, at which point she unbuttoned his jeans and yanked both them and briefs down, allowing his cock to spring free.
For Brienne, the time for teasing was done and she took him right into her mouth as far as he could, drawing a strangled sound from Jaime and causing him to grasp the kitchen counter for support. She sucked hard, fondling his balls, lightly squeezing them and running her fingers over his inner thighs and swirling her tongue over the head.
“Enough,” he ground out eventually. “You want this to be over in 10 seconds?”
She smirked up at him but he pulled her to her feet and kissed her, hard, so he could taste his own muskiness on her. He slid his hands down to the hem of her top, and pulled it over her head so he could feel her skin on his, her nipples grazing his chest, just a little above his own. She was warm and smooth and smelled ever so slightly of the lemon scented moisturiser he knew she liked and the combination was altogether mouthwatering.
“I think you’re still wearing too many clothes,” he murmured against her neck, his hands stroking down her body until he could hook his thumbs into her tracksuit bottoms and knickers and pull them all the way down. He stood up, grabbed her waist and planted her on the kitchen counter, She kicked her clothes off her feet and then Jaime stood in front of her, palms on her knees, slowly opening her up for his eyes to feast on, delaying the moment he would see her pink pussy, gleaming pearlescent just for him. He ran his fingertips lightly from her knees almost to her slit and then back again, causing her to grumble in a frustrated way. But then he slowly lowered his mouth to her and kissed the insides of her thighs, the top of her mound and then finally, finally brushed his lips over her clit before stretching out his tongue to collect her juices.
“Oh gods, Jaime,” she choked out as she laid back and he lapped at her over and over again. He lifted her thighs over his shoulders and gently pressed a finger inside of her, feeling her walls wet and tight around him and thrust inside her, hitting her g spot until she was wide enough for another one, all the while never letting up teasing her clitoris with his tongue. He reached up with his free hand to palm her breast, letting his fingers glide around the nipple, then he pinched it gently until she arched her body off the counter, spasming and moaning.
“Oh Jaime,” she almost sobbed. But the sight of her lying there, brought to orgasm by his tender ministrations was too much to bear so he gathered her up in his arms and pulled her to the edge of the counter.
“I haven’t been with anyone else -”
“Me neither.”
“And are you still on the -?”
She nodded eagerly and pulled him towards her so he could enter her and oh gods, he thought he would never get to be inside of her again but here he was and she felt so fucking good and she had twined her legs around his waist pulling him in deeper. He pulled away slightly so he could look at her face, wild eyed and slack jawed as he rocked inside of her. “Oh Jaime, oh god” she murmured so softly and incoherently he could barely hear her. She closed her eyes and their lips met to kiss as their bodies pushed against each other and he held her tighter still so he could thrust more freely. She pulled away slightly to mutter hoarsely in his ear “I want you deeper. Take me from behind,” and pushed him away.
She turned around and bent over the kitchen island, arms outstretched to grab the other side for leverage, legs slightly apart. Taking his cock in his hand, he found her entrance and guided himself into her and started to thrust, mesmerised by the sigh of his cock disappearing into her pussy under her pale, perfect behind.
“Oh gods,” Brienne groaned.”Yes, yes, yes, just like that,” as he upped the tempo, hips snapping against hers while his hands on her waist kept her stable. He was getting close but he wanted to see her face while he came.
He covered her body with his, stretching his hands over her arms and kissed her shoulders and the back of her neck. “Brienne look at me,” he whispered. She turned her face to the side, drinking in his undone state, his cheeks and lips red, his hair dishevelled, the look of abandon in his eyes. The feel of him on her back was heavenly, sliding into her over and over again, his cock stimulating that place inside her that brought her right to the edge. He reached a hand down to slide a finger over her clit and it was like he’d pushed a detonation button as suddenly she was clenching around him and screaming his name, almost unaware of the fact that he was stiffening and jerking and unloading inside of her.
They stayed there for about a minute, their breathing gradually getting under control, the sweat starting to cool on their body, Jaime pressing small kisses to her back, arms, shoulders, wherever he could reach.
A while later, cleaned up and sitting on the couch, he held her tightly.
“Brienne, I never want to let you go. And I promise I’ll never let my family speak to you like that again. But please understand that they’re my family and they’re important to me and how and when I deal with them might not always be what you would choose. And I won’t turn my back on them. But you can and should call me on their bad behaviour. But - please don’t ever tell me to leave again. And don’t assume I don’t love you. A person in love can still make mistakes.”
She nodded and held him close.
“You’re the only person I’ve ever wanted to spend my life with, Jaime,” she said. “It’s going to be really hard if your family don’t approve.”
“You’re right. It will. But I’m going to fight for this. I’m going to fight for us.” And he kissed her long and slow. Brienne knew it wouldn’t be easy, that there was still work to do. But they were both committed to loving each other and dealing with the obstacles they faced - together.