Archive of Our Own ^beta

The whore smiles at him from the bed, lying on her side, giving him a partial view of her naked body. Her hair is dirty blonde with pale blue eyes. Seeing her resemblance to her, he feels a strong urge to throw up all the wine he'd consumed. Tyrion told him he'd have a good time, even Adam supported his idea, but now he wonders, why did he have to listen to them? Why didn't they just let him drink his pain away like the other times?

It's their anniversary, and he feels miserable. He should be with his wife, celebrating in their bed.

With his wench, pale and freckled, with sapphire blue eyes. With his lady, the one who was both maiden and warrior.

His remaining strength is limited, and he simply stares at the woman in silence. The woman stands and smiles, her hips round and her bust ample. "Probably Tyrion's personal preference," he thinks without any enthusiasm. Brienne was more beautiful; no one could ever be like her. The woman approaches, swaying her hips brazenly, almost laughing bitterly. Brienne wasn't like that; she was shy and reserved.

His lips brush hers gently. She's already suffered enough, so he has to be gentle with her. Brienne lets out a shaky breath, as if she doesn't believe this is happening. His hand reaches for the back of her neck to pull her closer. Brienne finally relaxes, and the tension of the past few days seems to disappear.

"Tell me, milord," the woman wraps her arms around his neck, almost pushing her away roughly, but reminds herself that it's not her fault. "Lord Tyrion told me you haven't touched a woman in three years. Is that true?"

He clenches his jaw and takes a deep breath. When the whore almost runs her fingers through his beard, he moves his head to look away. That's what only Brienne did, and that's how it will stay. "Yes," he murmurs, not in the mood to continue conversing with her.

She seems to pick up on his mood, so she just gets to work. She kisses him, and he hates himself even more when he lets her. He feels a mixture of anger, sadness, and, what terrifies him most, desire. It's been a while since anyone kissed him like that, not since his wench left him three years ago.

The feeling of desire sickens him inside, and he tries to focus on the fact that this was a gift from Tyrion, something to momentarily forget his personal hell.

Jaime simply sighs, closes his eyes, and lets it all go. The whore stripped him of his shirt, tossing it to the floor without any concern. She ran her hands down his chest, her eyes shining with mischief. Jaime lowered his head to kiss her neck, but that didn't stop his thoughts from wandering.

Brienne is nervous, he can tell instantly. But at the same time, he can tell that determination, the way she stood up to him in the forest, when she fought for him in the trial by combat, and when they faced the Others in the War for the Dawn. He runs his lips over her collarbone, placing kisses on her freckles until he reaches her jaw.

"Jaime." She sighs his full name as if it were a prayer, as if he were worthy enough to deserve her.

 Jaime pulls back and looks at the whore again. She finishes undressing him while he gets lost in his thoughts again. He's only done this with two people in his life, both dead now. He didn't care about Cersei's end, that's for sure. He stopped loving her a long time ago. Now his heart only desires one person: his warrior maiden, Brienne.

"But I still can't accept that the person I truly love is gone."

He doesn't feel the strength to move, so the woman guides him to the bed, smiling like he's seen the other whores he's seen from Tyrion. Not that smile, Brienne's warm, affectionate smile. The one she gave even to a man like him.

Brienne smiles from across the room, sitting on the bed. First, he notices her beautiful sapphire eyes, then he registers the fact that she's naked in front of him

He can't contain his smile. "First time I've found you like this, my lady. A pleasant surprise." He quickly notices that characteristic blush on Brienne's face, but at the same time, that look of determination that always makes him fall deeper in love with her.

"I wanted to surprise you, you know? Also, come here, you know I don't like being kept waiting."

Taking off his shirt as fast as he can with one hand, he laughs at his wench's audacity. "As my lady commands."

“What would you prefer tonight, milord? Tell me, and I'll give it to you.” The whore pushes him onto the bed and places herself on top of him for another kiss.

“I want Brienne,” he can't help but think as his lips danced with this woman's. “I want my protector, my lady, my wife…my…”

“Wench.” The whore looked at him strangely, but laughed. That's when he realized he'd said it out loud.

“It doesn't insult me that you call me milord, I just want to know.” She straddled him and traced a finger down his chest. “What do you want?”

Brienne breathes heavily. “Jaime, by the gods—” She arches her back as he brushes his tongue over that spot in her pussy that drives her wild. He feels her thighs tense around his neck, and it makes him laugh. He loves that she can feel good, and that he can be the one to give her this pleasure.

 “Let’s just get this over with,” he mutters dryly, unfazed by the look of surprise on the whore’s face.

The whore settles on him, but pauses for a moment when she sees he still has his golden hand on. “Milord, wouldn't you rather remove your golden hand?”

Jaime removes his golden hand, revealing his stump. It's been a long day, and he just wants to sleep next to his wife. When he lies down next to Brienne, she shifts so she's against him.

Brienne grabs his right arm and kisses his stump tenderly. She's probably worried that he's been using his golden hand too much today.”

“No,” Jaime can't help but respond coldly. Only one person could see that stump in the privacy of his chambers, and that's something he'll never betray.

The whore decides not to ask any more questions and positions herself over his cock. When her pussy enters him, he instantly becomes sick. He hates it when it feels good, he hates feeling pleasure. The whore begins to move on him, up and down with slow thrusts. Jaime grabs her waist with his hand and the golden hand to hold her, he hates himself more than ever when his body betrays him and begins to move against him.

Brienne feels incredible, she lets out another quiet moan. He goes slowly as he enters her. It’s her first time, and he wants her to feel good. He wants her to feel all the tension and pleasure he’s feeling right now.

The whore moves on top of him, and he hates the pleasurable pleasure he feels in his body. The tension grows stronger with each thrust. He closes his eyes, not wanting to see this stranger. He just wants to see the love of his life, so he closes his eyes to evoke any memory of her.

-Her lips taste his for the first time; it’s a gentle sensation. A chaste kiss at first, then it quickly intensifies.-

-Their swords clash against each other, Brienne moves gracefully and swiftly. He winks at her; Brienne is distracted for a second, trying to seize that moment to attack. She laughs and blocks the attack with ease.-

-“I love you, Jaime… so much…” He feels himself reaching his peak and feels happy, happy to be making her feel good. He's not going to stop now, so he continues stroking her through her orgasm with his stump, smiling as he feels her body tense again.-

-He hugs her as tears fall down her cheeks. He doesn't know the reason for his nightmare and doesn't want to remind her, he just whispers over and over that he loves her.-

-"I dreamed of you."-

"Jaime."

"Brienne," he replies to her ghost as he reaches the top, looking into blue eyes, but not the sapphires he loved so much. Waves of pleasure cloud his mind for a moment, with only memories and thoughts of her.

 As the seconds pass, he's horrified to see that he's come inside the whore, thinking for a moment that it was... Jaime pulls away from the whore, who's probably still feeling tension in her body from the lack of release.

But he doesn't care; he needs something to drink now. "You'll have moon tea." I don't want some other woman's child, I wanted him with her."It doesn't matter how much, and make sure you tell my brother not to send any more gifts like that. Go."

The whore dresses as quickly as she can; when she leaves, Jaime notices the discomfort on her face. The whore closes the bedroom doors and leaves him alone. He takes the opportunity to finally put his hands to his hair, tightly squeezing his curls, wishing he had two hands to hurt himself more.

His gaze scanned the room, noting Oathkeeper for a second, and guilt hit him hard in the stomach.

“I don’t care what it takes. I want her saved!” The maester’s expression grim, as Brienne’s screams echoed loudly in the room.

“But my Lord, if we intervene like this, the baby—”

“I’m not interested in the baby now! I’m interested in my wife, and I want you to do everything you can to save her.” Brienne lets out another scream, surprisingly louder than the previous ones.

He moves quickly toward her, standing behind her so she can lean on him. He can’t help but feel the fear that now invades him. She looks up at him with her beautiful blue eyes, her expression apologetic.

 “Jaime—” Another pained moan escapes her throat. “I’m sorry… I love you…”

“You’re not going to die.” He clenches his jaw and gives her hand an encouraging squeeze. “You’re going to live, and we’ll raise our children together, just like we promised.”

Brienne smiles at him through the anguish clouding her blue eyes. “I love you.”

It was the last thing she said to him.

A sob escaped his throat, and the Lion of Lannister wept. Three years since she left him with their firstborn, three years of loneliness, and tonight he betrayed his vows. The vows to never be with anyone else.

He drinks from the bottle on the table. He doesn't know how much he drank, but it helps erase the pain, if only for a few hours. He was sure a punishment awaited him for all his sins, and this is it.

This world, without her.

Without his wench.