Posted originally on the Archive of Our Own at http://archiveofourown.org/works/747896.

Rating: Archive Warning: Category: Fandom: Relationship: Character: Additional Tags: Mature No Archive Warnings Apply F/M A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin Jaime Lannister/Brienne of Tarth Jaime Lannister, Brienne of Tarth Future Fic, Ficlet, Smut, Porn Battle, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Bathing/Washing, Bath Houses, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence Published: 2013-04-04 Words: 1101

Stats:

blessed be jubilation
by fallingtowers Summary

When he entered the bathhouse, impatient to wash off the dirt from the road, she was already there, as though she had expected him.

Notes
See the end of the work for notes

After dismounting in the courtyard, Jaime immediately went in search of the bathhouse. His tunic was soaked in sweat, his hands covered in grime, for the spring sun was shining warmer than the Maesters had anticipated. Mud had splattered his boots and breeches when frozen fields thawed and rivers turned into torrents. Now that the long winter and the longer wars had passed, old blood melting along with new snow, the peasants buried their dead and went back to tending the soil. Birds nested in Harrenhals walls, their beaks atwittering with song, not stuffed with carrion. The trees in the yard seemed to give him a friendly wave, their leaves trembling in the breeze. The world was so much younger and cleaner than all who lived to behold it. When he entered the bathhouse, impatient to wash off the dirt from the road, she was already there, as though she had expected him. He spotted a familiar-looking sword on a bench, a brawny arm dangling out of the tub, a mop of straw-coloured hair peeking out of the steaming water. The recognition hit him like a fist to his stomach, a painful mixture of joy and fear and something akin to longing. "It is you," he said. "Ser Jaime," Brienne replied, taciturn as ever, but he did note the courtesy.

He searched her face, hoping for pride shining from guileless eyes. When had her approval begun to matter? She stared at him, bolder than he remembered, innocent and stubborn and infinitely weary. He nearly flinched under her scrutiny, so he started to take off his tunic. At least, she was as coy and skittish as before: Brienne lowered her gaze and ducked deeper into the tub, to hide a pair of non-existent breasts. "Dont trouble yourself," he laughed. "Nothing I havent seen before." For a moment, she held her breath. Jaime realized that she was waiting for a cruel joke. Not that theres much to see. Not that I would want to look at you. Not that any man would ever see you as more than a dead kings fool. Suddenly, he rued every time hed mocked her. "My my apologies," he stuttered. "That was uncalled for." Brienne shrugged, turning to face him fully. "And only half true," she said. He gasped at the sight of her scarred skin, but she didnt move one inch. It was her quiet, unwavering acceptance that undid him. As he slid into the warm water, Jaime reached for her withered cheek with his sword-hand, stroking the leathery tissue with his stump. Her bright eyes darkening, she took his mangled limb and kissed it: a knight bestowing a token of affection. She looked almost scared at her courage, and Jaime could not resist the urge to show her how welcome the gesture was. Her mouth was clumsy under his, an awkward tangle of tongue and teeth. Her lips were soft and pliant, though; she was eager to please and be pleased with every nip and bite and stroke. Brienne helped him to rinse the dust from his hair. She was gently massaging his head, and his cock stirred under the water. When she ran her calloused hands over his back, down to his arse, his hips jerked forward, bumping into her, his erection hot and heavy against her thigh. The crimson flush that spread over her throat and shoulders and breasts was no longer due to the heat alone. She made a motion to get out of the tub, but Jaime caught her by the wrist. "Let me take care of you," he said. He stepped out before her to help her out of the water. He couldnt help but notice that although her breasts might be small, her dark nipples looked pebbled and hard and ripe to suck. Her build was as large and ungainly as ever, but hed never quite paid attention to the sway of her broad hips, to his own desire to run his fingers lightly though the bushy hair between her legs. Jaime dropped the linen he was wrapping her in, hooked an arm around her waist and drew her to the floor with him. He hadnt dared to roll in rushes or hay with Cersei, where anyone might see them. Now, however, he didnt care if someone discovered Brienne in his embrace, her strong hands gliding freely over his body. Her quickening pulse reverberated in his chest where she pressed her breasts against him; he felt her heart beat even faster as he parted her thighs with his knee and slid his good hand between their entwined bodies. Soon she was pressing against the heel of his palm, thrashing below him, arching upwards, spreading her slick wetness all over his fingers. Jaime cushioned her head with his right arm as she slumped back onto the floor, struggling for breath. "I dreamed of this," she said and blushed slightly.

He kissed her freckled nose and spread her legs wider. The tip of his cock already brushed her cunt before he remembered something. "I dont want to hurt you," he murmured. With any other woman, he would have called the answer quick-witted and the smile indulgent. It took him some moments to reconcile this description with Brienne. "Says the knight who once tried to fight me to the death," she replied. "Besides, no one will be able to call me the Maid of Tarth any longer. They will have to think of a new name for their songs." He grinned into her neck and pushed his cock inside in one big thrust. Although her maidenhood had been long lost to horseplay or the strain of fencing drills, she was achingly tight around him, and he knew this wouldnt be much of a pleasure for her. He gave a silent vow to make it all up to her later, daring to move a little as soon as she stopped wincing. "Theyll call you Brienne the Beauty," he said, dropping tiny kisses into her damp hair. For some, he would always be the man who slew a king and begot monsters upon his sister, but none should dare to utter one syllable against her. "Brienne the Knight," he panted. "Brienne the Oathkeeper." Over and over he repeated it until there was no breath left for speaking and no thought left for words and Jaime spilled himself with a long, drawn-out shudder. He rested his head upon her chest, both lovers oblivious to the world outside. In the grounds of Harrenhal, it was spring, beautiful spring, promising the glow of ripeness and an endless summer.

End Notes

Originally written for the Porn Battle VIII in June 2009, long before ADWD was published. Which is why it now counts as AU. Has been posted here before, probably more than once. (Just don't ask.)

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