Chapter Text
Brienne stared at Jaime’s profile, limned by the late morning sunlight. She propped herself on one elbow, tracing one finger along the bridge of his nose, then the curve of his lower lip. He smiled, cracking open one eye to look at her, and Brienne blushed at being caught. She pulled her hand back, ready to apologize for waking him, but he snagged her wrist, smile turning into a grin.
Jaime tugged her hand back to his mouth, catching the tip of one finger between his teeth and flicking his tongue over it, raising his eyebrows suggestively.
Brienne flushed darker, that now-familiar feeling of arousal pooling in her stomach as she yanked her hand back. Jaime’s teeth gleamed, white and even, as his mouth opened in a laugh. With a huff, she rolled out of his—their bed, naked as the day she was born. She ignored him as she pulled on his shirt from the day before, a blue button-up that still smelled of him. She glanced over her shoulder where Jaime was sitting up in bed, crisp white sheets pooling around his hips, looking deliciously tousled.
“Come back to bed,” he rumbled invitingly, his eyes dark.
That smile ought to be illegal, Brienne thought. “I thought I’d make us something to eat.” She turned to face him. “Yogurt and peaches and granola, maybe?” she murmured with a smirk. Jaime wrinkled his nose, and she fought to hold in her laughter. “Bacon and eggs, then?”
He bit into his lower lip, running his gaze up and down her body, lingering between her legs. “There’s something right here I think I’d prefer eating.” He leaned forward, fingers of one hand curling behind her knee.
Brienne rolled her eyes but allowed herself to be tugged forward, her hands coming to rest on Jaime’s shoulders as she looked down at him. He grinned at her boyishly, his eyes crinkling at the corners in the way she loved so well.
“You know my dad is getting here this afternoon,” she reminded him, trying not to be distracted by his fingers running lightly up and down her thighs. Jaime made a face and she giggled as he buried his nose in her lower abdomen, taking a deep breath. All of a sudden, Brienne found herself falling to the bed, rolling to the side so that Jaime landed on top of her, settling between her legs.
“That gives us some time,” Jaime mumbled, kissing along her collarbone as he began unbuttoning his shirt she was wearing, then down between her breasts.
“I can’t believe we’re doing this,” she sighed, dreamily running her hands over his shoulders, his back.
Jaime’s lips brushed her lower stomach, bit at her hip bone. “We’ve definitely done this before,” he murmured, right before his teeth sank into her inner thigh.
Brienne gasped as she thought about the first time he’d done this, that first day when she'd made him bacon. “I didn’t mean this this—” She felt his warm breath a moment before his tongue touched her, and moaned loudly. “I meant g-getting—married. Oh!”
Jaime lifted his head, his eyes glittering. “I have never been more sure of anything in my life.” His voice was quiet, confident.
Brienne chewed on her lip. “But after only nine months?” she asked, voice breathy. His tongue swiped over her again.
“I would have married you after the first week, Brienne.”
She would have answered, but…well. Jaime could be very distracting when he set his mind to it.
Her dress was white, a simple thing she’d bought off the rack but which fit well, the hem flaring around her knees. Her family cloak brushed her calves, the rose and blue silk whisper soft.
Brienne bent her knees, and Margaery placed a crown of blue flowers in her hair. “You look beautiful,” she gushed, and Brienne rolled her eyes, trying to fight back a smile as she straightened. Margaery gave her a stern look. “Jaime will think so.” She sighed. “Two weeks! Two weeks to plan a wedding!”
“You’re lucky you had two weeks, Marg,” Brienne said, laughing at her friend’s mock irritation.
Margaery grabbed her hands, squealing and jumping up and down. “I am so excited for you!” she exclaimed. “And he’s not even a drug dealer!”
Brienne laughed. “I can’t believe I’m doing this,” she admitted.
Margaery paused, searching her eyes. “Do you want to be doing this?” she asked carefully.
Brienne’s eyes widened at the question, thinking of the day just two weeks ago when he’d proposed to her. They’d been on their way home after a walk through the nearby park, and Jaime had stopped at the grocer stand to get some fruit—two peaches and two plums. He’d reached into the white paper sack, fumbling a bit, and Brienne had held out her hand, waiting for a peach. Instead, she’d found herself blinking at a small velvet box in the palm of her hand, open to show a beautifully sparkling diamond. She’d met his gaze, relieved to find he wasn’t kneeling at her feet. Marry me? he’d asked, eyes bright and hopeful.
And she’d said yes.
“I do,” she said. “I really, really do.”
Margaery grinned and squeezed her hands. “Jaime’s waiting for you.”
She held her father’s arm as she walked down the aisle, Jaime waiting for her at the top of the dais, more beautiful than anything she’d ever seen.
She took her first step up the stairs, then another. I am his, and he is mine, from this day, until the end of my days.
There was nowhere else she’d rather be.