012. this asoiaf fic obsession is getting ridiculous. i have things to do!
at least this one is for a challenge.
ETA:
because it's been pointed out to me that throneland is a locked comm - something I had completely forgotten - I've moved the background information for the fic to this post. Ahem:
Jaime Lannister just wants to do good - that's why he became a knight, why he joined the Kingsguard, why he earned himself the nickname Kingslayer - it was all in the name of good. He killed King Aerys because it was the right thing to do. Oaths are important to him, but they are nothing in comparison to the thousands of lives that would have been lost that day if the Mad King had lived to have his way, and no matter what they call him behind his back, no matter what the people think of him - all that matters is that he saved them.
His sister disagrees. She thinks that everyone should respect him for what he did, but he and Cersei, well, they're very different people. That doesn't mean he loves her any less, or that when they were eleven and she pressed her mouth to his, he pushed her away. He didn't. Oaths are important to him, especially the oaths that come with his white cloak, but he still forsakes them regularly in favor of making love to his twin sister, and as such, forsakes the Seven as well. He gives her children and she passes them off as her husbands, as the King's, but they are not and Jaime knows it. And it eats him alive.
Still, he tries to be good - if not a good knight, then at least a good father. Sweet Tommen and Myrcella are easy enough to get on with, and they take to their 'uncle' like flies to honey. Joffrey is more difficult, more proud, but Jaime's famed prowess in the battlefield wins him over eventually, and Jaime tries his best to steer his eldest son away from his more, well, unorthodox practices.
Jaime doesn't want to go to war with the Starks, thinks it would be unwise, and wrong. Joffrey is not the rightful king, and Ned Stark committed no treason. But then Lord Stark's head is chopped off and Jaime has no choice. It's either fight for his family, or see them hurt. He could not bear anything happening to Cersei, nor Tyrion, nor his children, nor even his father. So he fights Robb Stark, and gets taken prisoner. But Catelyn Stark, at least, understands the kind of man he is, the kind of honor he has - so she sends him home, Seven bless her, with a woman called Brienne of Tarth.
---
Brienne of Tarth cannot be a knight. She knows this, and she doesn't care. She's large and ugly, she knows this also, and still does not care. She doesn't fight for honor, nor for glory, nor for a title or lands. She fights because she needs to, because it's in her blood, and the only time she feels alive is when she's cutting down foes on the battlefield. From a young age, girls and boys alike were cruel to her, and she learned quickly that the only way to make them stop laughing, stop calling her names, was to beat them until they could barely move, let alone laugh or speak. Her father had said that there was no honor in that sort of fighting. Brienne has no honor, and she doesn't care about that, either.
She meets Lord Renly Baratheon when she's older, and even though she could unhorse him as easily as blinking, he's one of the only people who she has no reason to. Although few will outright insult her anymore, for fear for their lives, she knows that they still whisper behind her back. Let them have their whispers - she has her sword. Only Renly, Renly is genuinely kind to her. And it's not as if she particularly cares, but maybe, just maybe, she sort of likes that. And maybe he's quite pretty, and she just wants to fuck him. For whatever reason, she proves her skill and joins his silly Rainbow Guard.
And then Renly is killed, and she is angry. There are so many people in the world deserving of death, but Renly was not one of them, and she is going to find whoever did this to him and make them suffer, slowly. The rest of them think it was her, of course, as she has not made many friends at Renly's camp - not that she makes many friends anywhere - so she flees with Catelyn Stark, who is fairly kind in and of herself.
It's not as if she owes Catelyn anything, but she has always wanted to meet the legendary Kingslayer, and from what she hears, transporting him back to King's Landing is sure to be a dangerous, blood-soaked journey. So, what the hell, she thinks.
---
title: Armor is a Lady's Armor
fandom: a song of ice and fire.
characters/pairings: personality-swapped!Brienne/personality-swapped!Jaime
rating: pg-13.
word count: 1600.
summary: Brienne is not pretty and not kind, but she's as brave as any man and twice as strong as some, and Ser Jaime of House Lannister doesn't seem the type to require much in the way of positive qualities to get on alright with someone.
warnings: spoilers through ASOS and minor spoilers for AFFC.
notes: written for throneland's 7th challenge: in his/her shoes, where the object was to swap personalities between two characters. I chose these two crazy kids. Title is a play on a quote by Sansa.
Brienne is not pretty and not kind, but she's as brave as any man and twice as strong as some, and Ser Jaime of House Lannister doesn't seem the type to require much in the way of positive qualities to get on alright with someone. He is courteous at every turn - even to that idiot Frey cousin of his - and it's not but hours into the journey when it starts to grate on her nerves.
"Call me My Lady one more time," she tells him from where she stands at the head of the ship, looking out onto the river, "and I'll have your eye out, Ser Kingslayer."
She watches him trying to sit up straight, chained as he is. "'Ser Jaime' would be preferable, if it please My - if it please," he says.
Brienne turns her head to level him with a steady glare. "What would be preferable," she says, "is for us to get far enough away from Riverrun that we might have a chance of not being taken by the Tullys and hanged for traitors."
She sees his jaw tighten at that, presumably fighting the urge to point out that she will be the only one hanged for a traitor - he'll be thrown back into his cell, most like, or maybe hanged, too, but even then, simply as an enemy. He doesn't say that, though, but holds onto his courtesies as strongly as he's famed for holding his sword. Even so, she can tell his patience is already wearing thin, and that it's only a matter of time before he'll grow tired of acting chivalrous and lash out.
If Brienne's honest, she can hardly wait. Maybe she'll get lucky and he'll be so violent that she'll have reason enough to cut him down. After all, Kingslayer-Slayer is a much better nickname than any she's ever had before.
But all he does is sigh and lean his head back. "Yes," he says, "that would suit, as well."
---
The first time she feels anything other than vague annoyance or bored tolerance for Jaime Lannister is when his sword crashes against hers. She sees the fire light in his eyes the same as she feels it in herself, that desperate desire to cut and slash and burn, to serve punishment to those who've earned it, and to serve it well. He fights with the sort of passion that he lacks in his speech, in the shine of his golden hair or the dignified way he holds himself.
He's been beautiful from the first, even filthy and reeking as he was when he first left the dungeons of Riverrun, but Brienne has very little appreciation for beauty alone. It's only when he blocks her thrust and makes a sweep for her legs - which she dodges expertly, mind you - that the stirrings of desire begin to appear.
Brienne may know little and less of love, but she knows enough of sex. Some of the men in Renly's garrison had made a neat little wager - which they had all found terribly clever, as men are wont to do when grouped together like packs of starved, stupid dogs - over her maidenhead. When Brienne had found out, she'd tossed her head back and laughed for a good minute, too amused to be particularly angry. She'd still beaten them all bloody, of course, so as not to get a reputation for being at all soft, but still - it had been a rather entertaining assumption on their part.
The next time she laughs that hard is when she's down in the mud with Jaime, knee pressed to his chest and sword poised at his throat. And the smile he gives her back is anything but a forced courtesy.
---
The Bloody Mummers cut Jaime's hand off in front of her, and all she can do is sit there helplessly and yell at the top of her lungs about sapphires and all the gold in Casterly Rock and, "If your cock comes anywhere near me, I swear to the Seven above, I will rip it off." That keeps her from getting raped, but it does nothing for the bloody stump where Jaime's sword hand used to be.
He passes out soon enough from the pain and Brienne lies where she's tied next to him. She feels like killing someone, like vomiting, like crying as she hasn't done since she was nine.
"Im sorry," she says to Jaime's unconscious body, and for maybe only the second time in her life - but she's not going to dwell on Renly, she never dwells on Renly - she truly is.
---
They're in the baths of Harrenhal and he's a hand short and dizzy and practically falling into her lap, when she finally decides, why not, she's never been particularly moral in the first place - and kisses him. She tangles her fingers in the golden hair he'd refused to cut, even though it would greatly have helped his disguise, and tugs him toward her. Her lets her, even reciprocates fairly well, but when they pull apart, he gives her a confused sort of look, as if kissing is a new and unlikely concept that she's just invented.
She tilts her head and almost manages a smirk. "I believe you're blushing, Ser Kingslayer," she says, not even trying to be particularly mocking.
"I - don't call me that," he tells her. After losing a hand, he's mostly dispensed with the chivalry, which she appreciates. He is blushing, though, and looking away as if he's not quite sure what the do with himself.
"Don't tell me you've never had sex -"
"I have," he interrupts.
"Because I wouldn't believe you," she finishes.
Jaime finally settles himself next to her, not very steadily and taking great pains to avoid hitting his bandaged stump on anything, and Brienne feels almost guilty for more or less taking advantage of him in the state he's in.
"I have," he says again, "but only, only…"
Brienne sighs. "With your sister?"
His hazy eyes immediately go focused and his brow creases like maybe he's going to deny it. "I -"
"Seven hells," Brienne says, rolling her eyes, "I'd wager every man, woman and child in the Seven Kingdoms has heard some version or another of Stannis' letter. Renly got quite a kick out of it."
He drops his head forward slightly, looking sad and sorry and wretched. Brienne feels that thing that might be guilt again and tries to quash it down to where she shoves all of the feelings that don't help her win out on the battlefield. It doesn't completely work. "Look," she begins, but doesn't get much farther than that, because Jaime is cupping her face with his left hand and kissing her again.
It's slower this time, Brienne thinks, maybe even gentle - if that didn't sound so pathetically romantic. Brienne of Tarth is not pretty, not kind, and certainly not romantic. She is however, tipping Jaime Lannister's chin so as to get better access to his mouth. No skill of hers is equal to her swordsmanship, but she does quite hold her own when it comes to other bodily activities.
This time he seems slightly more coherent and less shocked when they pull apart, although he's still having some trouble keeping his head up. "Why do they call you the Maid of Tarth?" he asks the wet skin of her collarbone where he rests his forehead.
"For the same reason they call me Brienne the Beauty," she replies, and pretends not to notice the way she's stroking her fingers through his hair. "Because I'm not. Clever, isn't it?"
"No," Jaime tells her shoulder earnestly, "it's cruel."
Brienne sighs once again. He's the one who's lost the hand, and she won't pretend her pain is anywhere near as great as his, but she is so tired. "People are cruel."
Jaime nods, gesturing at the stump of his wrist. "I've noticed."
She doesn't fuck him that day, even though she could have. He's too weak to fight her off and wants it enough not to try, but while she may not be good or just or kind, she is no monster, either. She just pulls her fingers from his hair and calls for the servants.
---
"I've named it Oathkeeper," Jaime says when he holds it out to her, a few days after they arrive in King's Landing.
"That's original," Brienne snorts, but she has to admit, it's one hell of a sword.
He ignores he comment. "I want you to use it on your search for Sansa Stark," he continues, pushing it toward her once again, and she's tempted, she really is, but he's not going to just trick her into this wild goose chase with fine metalwork.
"Jaime," she says, "Catelyn Stark is dead - it doesn't matter anymore."
"Of course it matters," he replies. "That girl is out there, Gods know where, and needs to be found by someone who won't turn her over to my sister. Besides, you swore an oath."
"You and your oaths," she sighs, but doesn't outright refuse, either, because it really is quite a nice sword. And that is clearly the only reason.
"Yes, well," Jaime says, "without this" - he gestures at his missing sword hand - "oaths are all I have."
And Brienne really shouldn't being doing this, should be out instead avenging Renly's death and fighting battles and shedding blood the way she's so good at, but instead she reaches out a hand and takes the sword, takes Oathkeeper, and says, "Not all you have."
She'll find Sansa Stark, but not to keep an oath to a dead woman. This is a different oath completely.
or at AO3.
ETA:
because it's been pointed out to me that throneland is a locked comm - something I had completely forgotten - I've moved the background information for the fic to this post. Ahem:
Jaime Lannister just wants to do good - that's why he became a knight, why he joined the Kingsguard, why he earned himself the nickname Kingslayer - it was all in the name of good. He killed King Aerys because it was the right thing to do. Oaths are important to him, but they are nothing in comparison to the thousands of lives that would have been lost that day if the Mad King had lived to have his way, and no matter what they call him behind his back, no matter what the people think of him - all that matters is that he saved them.
His sister disagrees. She thinks that everyone should respect him for what he did, but he and Cersei, well, they're very different people. That doesn't mean he loves her any less, or that when they were eleven and she pressed her mouth to his, he pushed her away. He didn't. Oaths are important to him, especially the oaths that come with his white cloak, but he still forsakes them regularly in favor of making love to his twin sister, and as such, forsakes the Seven as well. He gives her children and she passes them off as her husbands, as the King's, but they are not and Jaime knows it. And it eats him alive.
Still, he tries to be good - if not a good knight, then at least a good father. Sweet Tommen and Myrcella are easy enough to get on with, and they take to their 'uncle' like flies to honey. Joffrey is more difficult, more proud, but Jaime's famed prowess in the battlefield wins him over eventually, and Jaime tries his best to steer his eldest son away from his more, well, unorthodox practices.
Jaime doesn't want to go to war with the Starks, thinks it would be unwise, and wrong. Joffrey is not the rightful king, and Ned Stark committed no treason. But then Lord Stark's head is chopped off and Jaime has no choice. It's either fight for his family, or see them hurt. He could not bear anything happening to Cersei, nor Tyrion, nor his children, nor even his father. So he fights Robb Stark, and gets taken prisoner. But Catelyn Stark, at least, understands the kind of man he is, the kind of honor he has - so she sends him home, Seven bless her, with a woman called Brienne of Tarth.
---
Brienne of Tarth cannot be a knight. She knows this, and she doesn't care. She's large and ugly, she knows this also, and still does not care. She doesn't fight for honor, nor for glory, nor for a title or lands. She fights because she needs to, because it's in her blood, and the only time she feels alive is when she's cutting down foes on the battlefield. From a young age, girls and boys alike were cruel to her, and she learned quickly that the only way to make them stop laughing, stop calling her names, was to beat them until they could barely move, let alone laugh or speak. Her father had said that there was no honor in that sort of fighting. Brienne has no honor, and she doesn't care about that, either.
She meets Lord Renly Baratheon when she's older, and even though she could unhorse him as easily as blinking, he's one of the only people who she has no reason to. Although few will outright insult her anymore, for fear for their lives, she knows that they still whisper behind her back. Let them have their whispers - she has her sword. Only Renly, Renly is genuinely kind to her. And it's not as if she particularly cares, but maybe, just maybe, she sort of likes that. And maybe he's quite pretty, and she just wants to fuck him. For whatever reason, she proves her skill and joins his silly Rainbow Guard.
And then Renly is killed, and she is angry. There are so many people in the world deserving of death, but Renly was not one of them, and she is going to find whoever did this to him and make them suffer, slowly. The rest of them think it was her, of course, as she has not made many friends at Renly's camp - not that she makes many friends anywhere - so she flees with Catelyn Stark, who is fairly kind in and of herself.
It's not as if she owes Catelyn anything, but she has always wanted to meet the legendary Kingslayer, and from what she hears, transporting him back to King's Landing is sure to be a dangerous, blood-soaked journey. So, what the hell, she thinks.
---
title: Armor is a Lady's Armor
fandom: a song of ice and fire.
characters/pairings: personality-swapped!Brienne/personality-swapped!Jaime
rating: pg-13.
word count: 1600.
summary: Brienne is not pretty and not kind, but she's as brave as any man and twice as strong as some, and Ser Jaime of House Lannister doesn't seem the type to require much in the way of positive qualities to get on alright with someone.
warnings: spoilers through ASOS and minor spoilers for AFFC.
notes: written for throneland's 7th challenge: in his/her shoes, where the object was to swap personalities between two characters. I chose these two crazy kids. Title is a play on a quote by Sansa.
Brienne is not pretty and not kind, but she's as brave as any man and twice as strong as some, and Ser Jaime of House Lannister doesn't seem the type to require much in the way of positive qualities to get on alright with someone. He is courteous at every turn - even to that idiot Frey cousin of his - and it's not but hours into the journey when it starts to grate on her nerves.
"Call me My Lady one more time," she tells him from where she stands at the head of the ship, looking out onto the river, "and I'll have your eye out, Ser Kingslayer."
She watches him trying to sit up straight, chained as he is. "'Ser Jaime' would be preferable, if it please My - if it please," he says.
Brienne turns her head to level him with a steady glare. "What would be preferable," she says, "is for us to get far enough away from Riverrun that we might have a chance of not being taken by the Tullys and hanged for traitors."
She sees his jaw tighten at that, presumably fighting the urge to point out that she will be the only one hanged for a traitor - he'll be thrown back into his cell, most like, or maybe hanged, too, but even then, simply as an enemy. He doesn't say that, though, but holds onto his courtesies as strongly as he's famed for holding his sword. Even so, she can tell his patience is already wearing thin, and that it's only a matter of time before he'll grow tired of acting chivalrous and lash out.
If Brienne's honest, she can hardly wait. Maybe she'll get lucky and he'll be so violent that she'll have reason enough to cut him down. After all, Kingslayer-Slayer is a much better nickname than any she's ever had before.
But all he does is sigh and lean his head back. "Yes," he says, "that would suit, as well."
---
The first time she feels anything other than vague annoyance or bored tolerance for Jaime Lannister is when his sword crashes against hers. She sees the fire light in his eyes the same as she feels it in herself, that desperate desire to cut and slash and burn, to serve punishment to those who've earned it, and to serve it well. He fights with the sort of passion that he lacks in his speech, in the shine of his golden hair or the dignified way he holds himself.
He's been beautiful from the first, even filthy and reeking as he was when he first left the dungeons of Riverrun, but Brienne has very little appreciation for beauty alone. It's only when he blocks her thrust and makes a sweep for her legs - which she dodges expertly, mind you - that the stirrings of desire begin to appear.
Brienne may know little and less of love, but she knows enough of sex. Some of the men in Renly's garrison had made a neat little wager - which they had all found terribly clever, as men are wont to do when grouped together like packs of starved, stupid dogs - over her maidenhead. When Brienne had found out, she'd tossed her head back and laughed for a good minute, too amused to be particularly angry. She'd still beaten them all bloody, of course, so as not to get a reputation for being at all soft, but still - it had been a rather entertaining assumption on their part.
The next time she laughs that hard is when she's down in the mud with Jaime, knee pressed to his chest and sword poised at his throat. And the smile he gives her back is anything but a forced courtesy.
---
The Bloody Mummers cut Jaime's hand off in front of her, and all she can do is sit there helplessly and yell at the top of her lungs about sapphires and all the gold in Casterly Rock and, "If your cock comes anywhere near me, I swear to the Seven above, I will rip it off." That keeps her from getting raped, but it does nothing for the bloody stump where Jaime's sword hand used to be.
He passes out soon enough from the pain and Brienne lies where she's tied next to him. She feels like killing someone, like vomiting, like crying as she hasn't done since she was nine.
"Im sorry," she says to Jaime's unconscious body, and for maybe only the second time in her life - but she's not going to dwell on Renly, she never dwells on Renly - she truly is.
---
They're in the baths of Harrenhal and he's a hand short and dizzy and practically falling into her lap, when she finally decides, why not, she's never been particularly moral in the first place - and kisses him. She tangles her fingers in the golden hair he'd refused to cut, even though it would greatly have helped his disguise, and tugs him toward her. Her lets her, even reciprocates fairly well, but when they pull apart, he gives her a confused sort of look, as if kissing is a new and unlikely concept that she's just invented.
She tilts her head and almost manages a smirk. "I believe you're blushing, Ser Kingslayer," she says, not even trying to be particularly mocking.
"I - don't call me that," he tells her. After losing a hand, he's mostly dispensed with the chivalry, which she appreciates. He is blushing, though, and looking away as if he's not quite sure what the do with himself.
"Don't tell me you've never had sex -"
"I have," he interrupts.
"Because I wouldn't believe you," she finishes.
Jaime finally settles himself next to her, not very steadily and taking great pains to avoid hitting his bandaged stump on anything, and Brienne feels almost guilty for more or less taking advantage of him in the state he's in.
"I have," he says again, "but only, only…"
Brienne sighs. "With your sister?"
His hazy eyes immediately go focused and his brow creases like maybe he's going to deny it. "I -"
"Seven hells," Brienne says, rolling her eyes, "I'd wager every man, woman and child in the Seven Kingdoms has heard some version or another of Stannis' letter. Renly got quite a kick out of it."
He drops his head forward slightly, looking sad and sorry and wretched. Brienne feels that thing that might be guilt again and tries to quash it down to where she shoves all of the feelings that don't help her win out on the battlefield. It doesn't completely work. "Look," she begins, but doesn't get much farther than that, because Jaime is cupping her face with his left hand and kissing her again.
It's slower this time, Brienne thinks, maybe even gentle - if that didn't sound so pathetically romantic. Brienne of Tarth is not pretty, not kind, and certainly not romantic. She is however, tipping Jaime Lannister's chin so as to get better access to his mouth. No skill of hers is equal to her swordsmanship, but she does quite hold her own when it comes to other bodily activities.
This time he seems slightly more coherent and less shocked when they pull apart, although he's still having some trouble keeping his head up. "Why do they call you the Maid of Tarth?" he asks the wet skin of her collarbone where he rests his forehead.
"For the same reason they call me Brienne the Beauty," she replies, and pretends not to notice the way she's stroking her fingers through his hair. "Because I'm not. Clever, isn't it?"
"No," Jaime tells her shoulder earnestly, "it's cruel."
Brienne sighs once again. He's the one who's lost the hand, and she won't pretend her pain is anywhere near as great as his, but she is so tired. "People are cruel."
Jaime nods, gesturing at the stump of his wrist. "I've noticed."
She doesn't fuck him that day, even though she could have. He's too weak to fight her off and wants it enough not to try, but while she may not be good or just or kind, she is no monster, either. She just pulls her fingers from his hair and calls for the servants.
---
"I've named it Oathkeeper," Jaime says when he holds it out to her, a few days after they arrive in King's Landing.
"That's original," Brienne snorts, but she has to admit, it's one hell of a sword.
He ignores he comment. "I want you to use it on your search for Sansa Stark," he continues, pushing it toward her once again, and she's tempted, she really is, but he's not going to just trick her into this wild goose chase with fine metalwork.
"Jaime," she says, "Catelyn Stark is dead - it doesn't matter anymore."
"Of course it matters," he replies. "That girl is out there, Gods know where, and needs to be found by someone who won't turn her over to my sister. Besides, you swore an oath."
"You and your oaths," she sighs, but doesn't outright refuse, either, because it really is quite a nice sword. And that is clearly the only reason.
"Yes, well," Jaime says, "without this" - he gestures at his missing sword hand - "oaths are all I have."
And Brienne really shouldn't being doing this, should be out instead avenging Renly's death and fighting battles and shedding blood the way she's so good at, but instead she reaches out a hand and takes the sword, takes Oathkeeper, and says, "Not all you have."
She'll find Sansa Stark, but not to keep an oath to a dead woman. This is a different oath completely.
or at AO3.