gcldenhandthejustâ:
â jaime could not recall the last time that heâd endured such extensive physical pain. the EMOTIONAL pain he felt was customary. heâd grown so accustomed to being mentally battered and bruised, that while it never stopped hurting, he did become used to it. the same could be said of the physical, to some extent, he was willing to concede. but the last time that heâd felt such intensive agony in his nerves was when his hand had been chopped off. in his nightmares, he could still hear brienne coaxing him to LIFE with her words. what are you doing? sheâd asked him, as theyâd sat around a fire. his eyes were drooping at the time, and heâd refused to eat even a single bite of the stale bread that theyâd been given. DYING. the man sure had felt that way then. NO, the strongly spoken reply had been given by his protector. you have to live.Â
only brienne of tarth could convince him to live. it was CERSEI who prompted him to die, even if her commands could be placed under the guise of his protection. his sister sent him on countless missions that resulted in his capture, maiming, and emotional harm. jaime did his best not to admire her, through the sheen of his tears, as she changed and moved towards him. the woman always managed to leave him without the proper words. no words were good enough for herâ a whole new, perfect language would need to be invented, and even then, all of its descriptors would necessarily FALL SHORT. jaime swallowed again, as brienne detailed how he hadnât cried in the snow. i wanted to, he thought, but he did not give voice to this thought. heâd had one goalâ and tears would have prevented him from achieving it. âbrienne, i am⌠i am so sorry for leaving you in the snow. i should have returned to our bedchamber with you. it was the only true place for me. i see that now. i always should have seen it.â sheâd hated him. she deserved to. he knew that. it didnât make the pill any easier to swallow though. âi am deserving of your HATE, my lady. perhaps never of your love. but i do, you knowâ i love you.â none of the moment was RIGHT. he should have told her prior to their first coupling. he should have told her prior to the battle of winterfell. he should have told her before heâd taken her to kingâs landing for that first and only time. âyou are right. i became everything that i swore to you that i would never beâ i was no different from the lot of horrible men that you were afraid of.âÂ
jaime hated himself for being THAT. he hated that heâd slept with her, and then abandoned her after theyâd consummated their love. it was cruel, it was wrong, and it was not WHO HE WAS. it was not who he was meant to beâ who she believed him to be. âbut i swear to youâŚ. i shall prove to youâŚ. why i am worthy of you. i shall never betray youâ not again. my ladyâŚ. i wish to be WITH you.â before jaime could react to the news that brienne had received tyrionâs message, her strong hand was upon his own. when she squeezed, jaime saw STARS, and white-hot pain tore across his entire limb, before it swam into his chest, and seized his mind. all of his nerves felt as if theyâd been set AFLAME. but he did not pull away from herâ he deserved this. he deserved to receive a modicum of the agony that heâd put her through in this instant. but despite the fact that he willed himself to be strong, his body betrayed him. hot tears seeped from his eyes, and soon, he was WEEPING. the pain was too great. âyes, my ladyâŚâ he choked out, whimpering in pain like the crushed lion that he was. âyou are right, my ladyâŚ.â but all the while, he did not pull his hand away. he maintained her angry, intense blue gaze with his green one, which never faltered. no matter how fiercely she challenged his already-broken bones.Â
a low growl came from her at his words. âi was not afraid of them. they disgusted me.â true. at first, she was afraid of men. and the moment when she felt the most fear was the night that locke and his men almost forced themselves on her if it wasnât for jaime. when they belittled her for her appearance; beat her up. until she learned how to fight that is. then she was the one to kick ass. âlike how you disgust me now, jaime lannister.â gods. why didnât she hate him? why? she just-- wanted to kiss him. wanted to feel his arms around her again. she let his hand go with a huff, throwing it away from her as she stood. oh-- she shouldnât have done that.
a wave of intense nausea washed over her. she felt like she was going to crumble over-- again. but she held it back, straightened. she was shaking. this was getting ridiculous. âand what makes you think i want to take you back? after what you did?â she asked as she slowly covered her mouth. nope. she had to turn and quickly make her way to the empty barrel beside her- releasing the morning sickness into it. fuck. oh gods. she was sick. but she never got sick. she took a moment. âiâm not in the mood to argue....â she spoke, lifting her head slowly from the barrel. âtoday.... hasnât been right.â she paused. âyou hurt me... greatly. and i will never forgive you for that-- nor will i so easily trust you again. you knew... you knew what my maidenhood meant to me.... and i gave it to you... and you threw everything to the side.. for her. and now you say it was a mistake when in that moment-- it wasnât to you.â
she took steps towards him again. âwhen on that long ride to kingâs landing, you never looked back... you kept riding to her. and you almost died with her...â she was shaking again. âdo you know---- how that would have hurt me even more? if you had died? i would never be fixed--- i would never have loved again... because--- you are my, jaime lannister.... and you shattered it into tiny pieces that i canât put back together.â

















