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She trudged along through the peaty mud of the Riverlands giving her horse a rest as she led it through the forest. Ahead of her was Jaime doing the same. She considered him. His broad shoulders, his beautiful neck, his hair growing longer, golden in the dappled light. They’d been trekking a few days like this; sometimes walking, sometimes riding. After she’d led him from his camp, after Stoneheart, things were forever changed. She wondered what he was thinking at this moment.
It was just the two of them now. Hyle had had enough. I did not sign up for dead spectres no matter how great a prize Tarth may be, she’d heard him say to Podrick. Brienne was relieved to be rid of the bothersome knight, all told. Jaime encouraged Podrick to go with him; this quest is not a place for a child; he would be safer away from whatever curses are upon these lands. Jaime showed no inclination to return to his men; it had been a moon’s turn since she slew Stoneheart. Two more since Hyle and Podrick left. She closed her eyes once more, mourning Lady Catelyn anew.
She eyed Jaime’s shoulders once more, his strong back, his narrow waist and slim hips. I know that body now.
The first time Jaime fucked her was in small dark cave. Their bedrolls were beside each other, as usual; the further north they went the harder it was to keep the cold from seeping into their bones. That first time he had stared at her, lying on his side as she was shifting under her blankets closer the cave entrance to get comfortable, ready to take the first watch. She could not read the look in his eye.
“Come here” he had said. She did as he asked and he sat up, reaching out for her hand. He kissed her fingers as if she were a dainty maiden. He’d pulled her down, and soon she was astride him, grinding, thrusting, rubbing. It had been too cold to shed much of their clothes. So they fucked hard and fast, her unlacing his breeches to free his cock, him shoving hers down and off, pulling it from her legs. He had stared at her glistening cunt and breathed her name. This was grief, she thought. This was anguish of dead things and missing girls and revenants. There was hardly any preamble. Brienne knew there’d be pain, and indeed there was. He took her hard even as he whispered This will hurt, I’m sorry as he parted her with his hand and fucked his thick cock into her cunt. She had cried out, the feeling burning her, something tearing, stretching. He held her, holding himself still. His arms were around her back, feeling the rough spun wool she wore. She had looked into his eyes, down, sitting above him, his cock inside her, throbbing. He had thrust slowly at first, small little movements of his hips until she felt pleasure. And then it grew wilder. He grabbed her back again, his elbow on hard stone for leverage. They fucked liked that for endless minutes and then he grabbed her and spun them around, him on top, fucking her into the bedroll so hard she could scarcley breathe. She’d cried out her pleasure, uncaring, unburdened. His release followed hers and he grunted like an animal. He had pulled out, spilling on her flat belly, collapsing onto her frame. The stickiness of his pleasure messy in the sweat between them.
So they had continued. Trekking and fucking. Fighting and fucking and travelling. They never spoke of it but in the night they would come together. Jaime showed her the many ways to be with a man. He’d fucked her with his fingers, with his stump, with his tongue. He’d sniffed her, his nose buried in the thick bush over her cunt. Your scent is delicious, wench. She had blushed, pleased but also suddenly self-conscious – and she grew more wet - only to hear him chuckle and say you should know, wench, that every time you blush so my cock grows hard for you. It was extraordinary, this feeling. Being so with Jaime. In the daylight he’d smile at her, soft and easy, and her heart would thump an irregular rhythm. In the night, they would fuck.
They came upon an abandoned holding closer to The Eyrie in the foothills of the Mountains of the Moon. They had decided to move further north, searching for clues on Sansa’s whereabouts. It is not duty nor oaths that keeps be by your side, wench he had blustered at her in anger when she asked again about his men at Pennytree, insisting she can forge ahead on her own. I was a fool to have sent you on this quest alone. She left it at that. She had not the heart nor the energy to fight him on this. She had not failed Lady Catelyn nor Ser Jaime. She hoped he didn't believe that. It had been a torment to so decide, but she had to come to this reasoning to continue her quest for the Stark girls. She would not give up. She could not.
They gathered wood to make a fire in the unadorned dwelling’s hearth. After they had cooked and eaten, and washed as best they could using water from a nearby brook, they talked of the next day’s travel and plans. Jaimie cleared up their things; bowls and spoons and set it aside. He explored the old farmhouse while Brienne set out their bedrolls.
“We have found some luck at last, wench” she could hear the smile in his voice before she saw him return. “The one room on the left has a featherbed. My bones certainly will thank this good fortune.”
She smiled at him. Sharing a bed felt more personal, more…intimate, than what they had been doing. She wanted it but did not know if he felt that.
“You should take it. This place is small enough the fire here will warm the house entirely. I’ll take first watch.” She paused. “A proper first watch”, she said to the floor, flattening the one corner of the bedroll. She didn’t mean to blush (when did she?) and remembered what he had said. It made her blush grow, deepening and pinking.
“Brienne.” He looked at her. “None of that. We’re far from anything that can harm us, even the mountain clans. We haven’t seen another person in days. Come to bed with me?”
She looked at him, slowly coming up from her haunches, considering him. Her cunt ached, she could feel herself getting wet. There was something she wanted from him, something she was not sure he wished to give. Gods, she didn’t even know where he stood with the Queen…
She exhaled audibly. Then she said, after biting her lip for a moment: “I will…come to you, I mean. If you would. If you would let me do for you what you do for me.”
Jaime frowned, not understanding. That was plain to see. She was going to have say it.
“I would…” she started “I would like to take your cock in my mouth…return the gesture, I mean, as you do for me when your mouth is on my…”. Fuck, she couldn’t meet his eyes.
“Brienne” his voice rough. She dreaded his response. They really never spoke of their night-time activities. “You do not have to…”.
“I want to, if...you’ll have it…me.” She trembled now, it was visible. She didn’t know what to do with her hands. “I do not know…I don’t know how to, but you could tell me….teach me?” Her face and neck were ablaze. She dripped into her smallclothes.
“Come here” he said again. She did. He led her to the room, holding her hand. It was neat but dusty. Dim, the only light coming from the candle Jaime had brought with them. He grabbed the blankets from the bed, tossing them aside. He paused, his back to her.
“Ser Jaime, if you do not want to-?
“Gods, Brienne, I do.” He’d turned back to her, looking up at her. He seemed unlike him; nervous.
She drew on her courage. “Then show me.”
He nodded. Taking a blanket from their bedrolls he threw it on the featherbed as best he could with one hand. Brienne stepped in to help him. They shared a look, turning sideways to each other.
Jaime took off the golden hand. Her fingers came to his aid with that, too. He placed it on the small pedestal beside the bed. Then he unlaced his breeches and she could see then that he was growing harder. He dragged them down his waist, taking his smallcothes along, kicking it off his ankles as he sat on the bed for purchase. She took in his cock, growing ever harder but not yet at full attention. Jaime’s eyes were big. He stroked himself once, then looked at her. He took a pillow from the bed and placed it at his feet.
“So you don’t hurt yourself…” he whispered. She nodded. Brienne had removed her outer layers. The dwelling was indeed warming, and she stood there in her tunic and breeches. She stepped forward, standing close to him, looking down at him and then lowered herself onto her knees. The pillow blunted the cold and hard of the stone floor. He sat there, his legs open to her, his cock beautiful amongst the patch of golden curls. She looked up at him, her hands on each of his knees. She rubbed his thighs, up and down, without thinking, enjoying the feel of his warm skin, the tightness of his muscles, the soft brush of his inner thighs, milky white compared to the rest of him.
She heard him exhale. “You could…you could start by taking the tip into your mouth.”
She did. She kissed him there. Sweet. Almost chaste. Tender. Then she opened her mouth and let her tongue rove over his tip. She felt him grow in her mouth. She tasted him; a bead of him had slipped loose. With a bit of him in her mouth she looked up at him for further instruction. She heard Jaime groan, saw his chest heave.
“Touch me with your hand, too”. The voice sounded distant. She obeyed. She used her right hand, stroking him while licking the underside of his tip. He was trembling now, she could feel and see. Her efforts made a soft slopping sound, the noise further arousing her. She grew wetter, her smallclothes felt soaked. Having him in her mouth she felt powerful, she felt bold, she understood.
“Like this?” she asked in a moment when she let him go. He nodded, his hand moving to her cheek. To her hair. She took him in her mouth again as her hand squeezed him. Her bold feeling made itself known; she reached with her left hand to cup his balls, gently rolling them in her hand. He was cooler to the touch there and Jaime slipped closer to the edge of the bed, his thighs opening wider. Brienne felt like she needed some friction to ease the now-pulsing ache in her cunt. But she would manage, she wanted to do this for him.
“If you…if you feel you can, you can…unnhh… if you can take more of me...?” Her palms on his thighs, she took this latest instruction and set to work. She opened her mouth a bit more and moved up, taking as much of his cock in. He felt hot, velvety, full. Hard. She let her tongue sweep over him, sucking on the tip, feeling that one vein that stood out, caressing it with her tongue. She heard him gasp and saw him clutch the blanket with his one hand. His stump rested on her arm, helpless, a growing pressure from him, there, insistent.
She felt and saw him abort a thrust. He looked like he was in pain. “Its allright, Jaime” she soothed. She had no idea, truly, what she meant, what his thrusting there could do, but it was Jaime, so she was sure. Calm. Another anguished sound escaped him. She continued her efforts, sucking, licking, stroking, now sucking hard, then more gently. He seemed to enjoy that. She moved one hand under his thigh, moving to clutch at his ass, gripped a handful of firm flesh in her hand. And squeezed. Jaime grunted and this time could not control himself.
“Brienne, I…I can’t. You’re too…too good”. She couldn’t help but smile around his cock in her mouth. The small thrust into her thrilled and scared her. But thrilled her more.
“Tell me what you need.” Brienne took a moment, another small exhale, looking up at this god of a man. His beauty on display for her. She moved her hand onto his lower belly, adding pressure there, yanking at his tunic that was getting in the way. He took it off, pulling it over his head. Now completely naked to her. It was glorious. She took him back into her mouth; he felt right, there. She pushed down harder below his navel.
“Fuck FUCK....Brienne….suck in your cheeks, now” he said, ragged and torn. His hand went to her face, brushed the side it so gently with his thumb as she hollowed her cheeks. The thought of him touching her flesh, right over where she had him inside her mouth…She groaned onto his cock and the sensation must have done something to him, for he yelled out her name again. It was the most beautiful sound she’d heard. She inhaled slowly, trying to take more of him. He could not control himself now, and he thrust into her gain. “Shit, I’m sorry, wench…” but she held onto his hips and pulled him, telling him without words she would try. She went lower, lifting her head, creating a further angle. He stared at her, his mouth open, breathing heavily.
His hips jerked again, a movement he didn’t seem to control. His cock, all hard and thick, hit the back of her mouth. She inhaled again; it didn’t shock her, the feeling. He thrust again and his cock hit her throat; asking permission. Jaime felt like a tightly wound coil in her hands. She felt some discomfort, and looked at him again from under her eyelashes, silently communicating. He swore loudly again, a string of profanities slid from his mouth. She sucked him some more, let him gently brush the back of her mouth as much as possible but not ready for more just yet. Then his small thrusts hit her in just the right way, at the right angle, and his cock slid into her throat. Once.
“BRIENNE!” he shouted, pushing her away, pulling himself from her mouth. She sat on her haunches looking at him. He came, his seed spilling from him as he withdrew from her. Some of it landed on her tunic, some on his thigh. He breathed hard, looking down at her, his legs trembling visibly.
She held his thighs, hands sliding up, and he drew her closer. Her head was level with his chest and she kissed him there. She was still fully clothed, he completely naked. His skin was burning. His thumb played on her jaw and then he hooked his hand under her arm. He pulled her up and kissed her. Hard, lips smashing together, then easing into a soft brush of mouths and tongue. He tasted her mouth which tasted of him. He smiled.
“Brienne?”
“Yes?”
“You kissed me”
“Hrm?”
“I thought you didn’t want to…”
“What?”
“We’ve not kissed until now, wench.”
She looked at him. He was right. She hadn’t even realized. They had never kissed. In all the ways they had fucked each other they had never put lips to lips. How had she not realized? He did, however.
“Then perhaps we should do more of it, if…if you would like?”
He pulled her into another kiss. Soft, languid, exploring her mouth. He would go on to take care of her aching cunt, this night and every night, and day, he could. How long they’d be in the wild she did not know. How long it would take to find Lady Catelyn’s daughters, she could not tell. But this, with Jaime, whatever it was, it was beautiful.