Jaime arrived at Brienne's door not long after sunrise the next morning. So eager was he to make a good impression upon the mother of his child, that he had barely slept at all the previous night for fear he would tarry too long in his slumber and be late. Jaime would not allow anything to tarnish the reputation he hoped to rebuild with her. He feared for a moment that she might still be resting, and his appearance at such an early hour would be an unwelcome disturbance. However, she answered his almost timid knock promptly, awake and ready for the day. The only hint that Brienne might not be completely prepared to train him in infant care was the slight weary frown of her tired eyes. He had seen the same fatigue rest upon her face during the Small Council meetings they had both attended. Jaime had assumed it was her reluctance to be in his presence that furrowed the line between her brows. The one he found adorable, but longed to sooth. He now realized that Brienne kept a babe's schedule, not her own, and that she must be almost perpetually exhausted. He vowed he would do whatever he could to ease her burden.
Brienne opened the door, almost surprised that Jaime had actually shown up. Protectively, she held Galladon close, his tiny head nestled into the curve of her neck. A wall of caution had formed within her chest after King Brans's declaration that Jaime would care for her son. Brienne feared that he would break Galladon's heart the way he had hers. As she lay sleepless the night before, she talked herself into believing that either his cavalier nature or his lack of knowledge in caring for a babe would get the better of him, and he would rescind his offer to look after their child. 'My child.' She silently corrected herself. She could not help feeling a tinge of relief that he was true to his word, at least for now. Brienne quickly shoved that thought out of her mind.
"You are on time." Brienne remarked, her voice rising as her eyes unintentionally widened.
Jaime smiled, staring at her in awe. "You seem shocked?" He answered quietly.
Stepping back from the door, Brienne pasted an expression of ambivalence on her face and motioned for Jaime to enter. "Come in." She said dryly.
Jaime entered the Lord Commander's quarters and waited nervously as Brienne shut the door. She walked past him and continued into the living chamber, her arms filled with their babe. Seeing the apartments now in daylight, Jaime could not help but notice the distinct difference it held from when he inhabited the rooms. The spaces had been rebuilt since their destruction in the dragon siege, yet it was not only their appearance which seemed unknown to him. He had spent little time there, took almost no interest in the maintenance of the chamber, and barely unpacked his belongings. The dwelling had been only a convenience, a place only to sleep when he could not be in Cersei's bed. The thought turned his stomach and tightened his jaw in disgust. Jaime forced it from his mind. With Brienne now in residence here, the billet was warm, and although not overly decorated, it was comfortable and soft. It felt like her. It smelled like her. He breathed in the aroma deeply and it relaxed him. Brienne was making a home for their son within these walls.
Jaime could not move as he stared longingly at Brienne. He was enthralled by her. She wore a form fitting tunic of a soft pink hue. It made the rose in her cheeks blossom. His mind flashed upon her lovely face in the ill fitting dress she had been forced to wear at Harrenhal. Jaime's heart nearly stopped to recall that it had been during their time held captive in that half destroyed ancient fortress when he knew that he loved her. If only he had been true to his heart then. Perhaps they would be sitting together in their own solar, as husband and wife. He saw them once again within her chamber at Winterfell, comfortable, familiar, and in love. The memory of the sensual feeling of her body next to his made his attempt that much harder. The passion-filled nights they shared there felt as through they would never end, for a time, but they had. Jaime's self loathing got the better of him for a moment, as he imagined all they could have been. The Gods willing, now would be his opportunity to win it all back. He tried not to think of how much his heart longed for that wish.
The garments she wore skimmed her body and accentuated the curves his hand could still remember sliding over. It was almost a shame to hide such a glorious work of art under armor, but how majestic that looked upon her as well. He realized that having the babe had changed her in all the right places. Only his eye, that knew every inch of her would have noticed. Brienne's breasts were fuller, but still perfect. Her hips had rounded a bit from spreading to carry their child. They were inviting, and they called to him. Brienne did not wear the plain brown britches that accompanied her armor. At first Jaime thought she had taken to wearing gowns, but realized that the legs of her garment were wide, and of a material so soft it seemed to be a skirt as floated over her body like water. His view from behind her took his breath away. Brienne's ass was still wondrous. It begged for his grip. He swallowed hard, trying to chase away the image. She did not walk across the floor, back toward the chair by the fire where he assumed she had been sitting, feeding Galladon, she floated. He noticed her feet were bare and she curled one beneath the other, sitting in the most endearing way. Jaime sighed as he watched her. He realized this was usually a calm private time betweeen mother and child, and lowered his eyes, feeling like an intruder.
Brienne eyed him from across the room. "Well?" She questioned, almost annoyed, and motioned to the chair across from her.
Jaime quickly jumped to attention, and took her gesture as an invitation. He rushed to sit where she bid him. He perched upon the edge of his seat and focused his complete attention on Brienne, eager for her instruction to begin. She softly moved the babe from her shoulder and cradled him in her arms. For a moment, Jaime wondered if Brienne had forgotten he was even there, as she smiled at her infant. Jaime thought how right Tyrion had been in his description of Brienne as the most loving mother he had ever witnessed. He could not remember ever seeing even Cersei hold her babe's as sweetly, or gaze so wondrously at them. Brienne beheld Galladon as if he had been gifted to her from the Gods themselves. The boy wiggled and cooed next to his mother's heart, and returned her adoring gaze. He blinked, transfixed, up into the brilliant blue eyes that matched his own, the same eyes in which his father wished to lose himself.
At last Jaime studied the precious face of his son. He was like a miracle, the child born from the love he had shared with Brienne. He regarded them both, sitting only a few paces from him. It was the loveliest scene he had ever witnessed. His heart wanted to burst from the sheer joy of them. Yet, even while he reveled in his happiness just to be near them, Jaime had never felt more distanced from anyone in his life.
"He is beautiful." Jaime remarked, his tone longing and pained.
'Of course he is.' Brienne thought to herself. 'He looks like you.' Her mind silently betrayed her heart's wanting for Jaime. Her only response was a proud nod of her head.
Brienne then lifted her eyes and glared intently at Jaime. "I know it is the King's decree that you care for my child while I am busied with my duties." She acquiesced, almost bitterly. "I do not need to remind you the importance of the responsibility with which you have been entrusted." She affirmed. Once her demeanor had given Jaime a silent warning, she again lowered her gaze to the child. "There is nothing so dear in all the world." She choked upon the memory of the desperate search for her babe only the previous day, before giving Jaime a finally warning glance.
"Brienne." Jaime said, his voice softening the look in which she held him. "He is my son." He reminded her. Brienne looked away. It was a truth she had been trying to forget. "There is nothing more imperative to me than his safety and well-being." Jaime told her, gazing intently into the brilliant blue of her eye. "And yours." He finished. He had not meant to be so direct, or so open with his feelings. He knew Brienne would be on guard against advances regarding her heart. However, sitting so close to her as she held their babe, finally reunited with them, drowning in her eyes, for a moment he lost the ability to control himself.
"Don't." Brienne halted his attempts, unable to look at him any longer. She stared sternly into the fire, remembering the way he had destroyed their love, and mourning all they might have been. She could not allow him through the defenses which she had so painfully constructed around her heart. Trusting him completely was the last thing she felt she could ever do again.
Jaime read her uneasiness, and wanted more than anything to reassure her of his devotion and fidelity. "I swear to you, by the Seven themselves." Jaime began. "I would sooner have the flesh flailed from my bones than see one hair upon his head harmed." He wanted to take her hand and profess his oath, instead he could only voice the vow of his heart, and hope she saw his sincerity. "I swear to you, I will watch over him with my very life. No harm will befall, our child, while I draw breath." He promised to Brienne.
She stared at him for a long moment, recognizing the look on his face. She had seen it many times at Winterfell, when he would hold her close to him and not say a word. He only studied her, like he were trying to memorize her. As if his thoughts were filled with so much he wanted to say but could not. She had felt his passion, sensed his affection, believed the wordless vows he made to her in every beat of the heart that had sung her to sleep each night. She had wanted to trust that he loved her, but he had never said it. She had given him what he wanted, what they both wanted. She had given him all of herself, so sure they had built a bond between them, stronger than what he had with any other. Their love and their passion had seemed so pure, and complete. She relied upon it, opened herself, and adored him. Then he was gone, leaving her with the consequences of their weakness for each other.
That consequence lived and breathed, and stretched in her arms. She lowered her eyes to the child they had created. There had been a purpose to it all. They had made the only thing that truly mattered to her in all the world. His gift to her, perhaps like her mighty sword, the only one he could provide. Brienne regarded her child, his eyes searching her. It was almost as if he were begging her to give his father this chance. Brienne sighed, she had no choice. It was what the King wanted.
"Very well, then." Brienne said resolutely, standing and stepping toward Jaime. "First lesson." She leaned over and pressed the babe into Jaime's chest.
Instinctively, he raised his arms to support the boy, and went rigid with the weight of his child in his arms. He sat stiffer than if he were wearing armor, a look of abject fear upon his face. He stuttered, trying to mumble a protest, but realized he could not draw enough breath to speak. Looking down into the face of his son, Jaime had never felt so fulfilled, even through his apprehension.
Brienne studied Jaime, and realized he was not at all taking his new position lightly, nor it seemed his new role as father. "Relax." She told him, giving him a little encouraging smile.
"I fear I will hurt him." Jaime confessed.
Brienne chuckled in spite of herself. "You won't hurt him. Just be sure to support his head." She looked down and noticed that Galladon had settled into Jaime's arms as if he had always been there. She caught her breath at seeing her son finally in his father's grasp. Something within her reveled in the site of them. "See." She returned to sit next them and gestured toward the happy little babe. "He is not afraid." She looked lovingly at her child.
Jaime calmed a bit, letting his muscles loosen, and allowing Galladon to sink more comfortably into his arms. He blinked in fascination at the tiny face which stared at him with equal wonder. The babe reached his tiny hands up and clutched at Jaime's beard. An awed smile spread across Jaime's face. He had never realized how wonderful holding your own child could be. It was a luxury that had before been afforded him.
Brienne watched him in confusion. "You act as though you've never held a babe before." She questioned, her head tilted in bewilderment. She knew he had fathered all of Cersei's children. It was a fact of which they had never spoken. When once she had inquired, Jaime's answer was a sheepish shrug of his shoulders, and an all too telling silence. Now, Brienne's eyes registered her understanding. He had never held them.
Jaime understood the confusion in Brienne's tone. He knew she referred to the children his own sister had bore him. "It was not allowed." He answered. "We could..." He stopped, unwilling to bring a shadow of his past over the moment, over the new life he yearned for so very much. "It would have been too much of a risk." Jaime explained, but did not elaborate. He did not need to.
Brienne felt a surge of pride, and satisfaction that her babe was the first of Jaime's children to rest within his grasp. There was a specialness to it. She felt that it gave them a connection that even Cersei had not had with him. It gave her son a bond which Jaime had not shared with any of the others. Jaime appeared to be enjoying the time with Galladon as well, she hoped. Brienne allowed him the time with their son he seemed to so desperately want. It was his first real experience with fatherhood. Brienne wondered if his desire to be a part of Galladon's life would be a strong or permanent one, but in this moment it was simply nice to watch them together.
At that thought she snapped back to her determination not to allow her child to be hurt the way she had. Brienne could not trust that Jaime would be with them now indefinitely, no matter how much he professed to that desire. He had made promises to her, before. Although the words had not been spoken, they were understood. She thought he had found the significance in them, as well. Brienne had assumed those silent vows he made to her in the accepting of her maidenhead, and their living together at Winterfell almost as if they were man and wife, would have kept him by her side. She feared the day he would ride away and leave Galladon standing alone in the dark, weeping for him. She raised the armor around her heart once more, and returned to her distant countenance.
"You'll have to get used to holding him." She said, her chin stiff. Jaime noticed her tone was more formal than it had been before. He nodded, hoping he could sit a while longer with them. Brienne obliged Jaime's silent wish. She sipped a cup of tea while he became acquainted with his son, under her ever watchful eye. "A lot of people say a babe should not be held too much." She continued. "They say it will spoil the child." Brienne looked lovingly over her son, resting so contentedly upon Jaime's good arm. "I do not believe that to be true." Brienne said with a tiny shake of her head. "Children should be held as much as possible." She declared. "It builds trust. It shows them who they can depend upon." She raised her eyes to Jaime. He turned his head to meet her veiled warning.
Jaime heard what she had truly meant to impart to him. He understood that she would not allow him to lavish his attentions upon Galladon, build a connection with the boy, and then abandon him. The parallel to their own story was obvious. There was more than a hint of indictment in Brienne's voice as she spoke, and it was a dagger to Jaime's heart. He wanted to unburden himself, to beg for her forgiveness, to swear his life to the both of them then and there. He would never leave them, either of them, ever again. Jaime wished there was someway he could give Brienne faith in his commitment to them. Caring for their babe would be his chance.
He studied their child, his heart filling with determination to never disappoint either of them. "Then, I shall never put him down." Jaime pledged. Brienne sat quietly, watching her fingers trace the rim of her silver cup. Jaime assumed her silence was the result of her mistrust. In reality, Brienne had lost herself for a moment in the hope that he might not put her down this time, either.
Jaime and Brienne sat together with Galladon, almost like a family. He could imagine they were simply enjoying a pleasant morning, like many before and many to come. His thoughts saw them sitting beside their own hearth at Casterly Rock, or Evenfall, or some other place where they would make their home. How fiercely he prayed to the Gods for that blessing. How completely he loved them. As Jaime dreamed the thought into existence, Galladon's face suddenly clouded and he burst into tears.
"What? What did I do?" Jaime looked urgently at Brienne, fearful that he had unwittingly somehow harmed his own child.
Brienne gave him a knowing grin. "Nothing." She assured him as she rose to retrieve her squalling son from his father. "You did not harm him." She assured Jaime, wrapping Galladon close to her. She knew exactly why the babe was beckoning her. Jaime stood, hoping to be of help, should she need it.
"If you will excuse me." Brienne said shyly. "That is his hungry cry. I need to feed him." Her focus was already fully upon Galladon. She began to step away from Jaime.
He wanted to tell her that there was no reason for her to take their babe to another room to see to his needs. He had seen her glorious form each night during the moon they were together in the North. He had caressed her supple softness, tasted the sweet saltiness of her skin, felt her strong muscles tense and relax beneath him. He could think of nothing more precious than to witness the woman he loved nourishing their child. With a bitterness which one can only feel at themselves for the mistakes they have made, Jaime realized that it was a privilege for which he had no right to hope. He simply gave Brienne an understanding, respectful bow and watched her disappear with Galladon into her bedchamber. He was left standing alone in the outer room, wishing he had never left them.
Brienne stayed behind her closed door with the baby for quite a while. Jaime used the time to familiarize himself with the living chamber in her quarters. He counted steps and memorized they layout. He had no wish to inadvertently trip over furniture or run into something while his arms were filled with his tiny son. The remainder of the time Brienne was occupied feeding Galladon, Jaime spent staring at the flames in the hearth hoping he could win her over, and rekindle the love they once shared. He prayed that her heart still held something for him upon which they could build.
The click of Brienne's door opening brought Jaime from his hoping. He spun around to behold her as she walked down the small hall from her sleeping chamber, their son resting softly and sleepily in her arms. Gods, she was breathtaking. Jaime had never seen anything so lovely all his life.
"I usually do this while I feed him." She continued, not straying from the task, ignoring the worshipping look on Jaime's face. "But you should learn how, for those busy days." She told him. Jaime wondered, with a bit of caution, to what she referred. "Sit." She ordered.
Jaime quickly did as he was told, perching once more in the edge of the chair he had occupied earlier. Brienne again laid their child in Jaime's arms, and continued her instruction. She guided his hand and elbow, and showed him how to move the child to his right shoulder. Her touch sent warm, adoring shivers through him. He never wanted her to remove her fingers from his skin.
"I hope this shoulder is acceptable to you." She told him, not noticing the spark that had passed between them. "You'll need a hand for this." She determined. "At least at first, until you get used to is." Brienne said. Her gaze did not meet his eyes, suddenly realizing that she may have insulted him. He showed no sign that he resented her comment.
"What is it I am to do?" Jaime looked at her nervously.
Brienne smiled at her son, not returning Jaime's glance. "You're going to help him get the air out of his tummy." She said reached out and stroked the fuzz on the back of her son's head. "He nurses quite greedily. I am sure there are a few bubbles in his belly." She smiled, not realizing the sweet intimate picture she had just painted. "It you don't get them out, his stomach will become upset, and he will spit up." She explained, taking Jaime's left hand and placing it over Galladon's back. This time he was so enthralled, and so petrified, with learning how to care for his son that he hardly noticed the thrill of Brienne's skin against his. His heart would contemplate it later.
Brienne rested her hand over his, and squeezed her fingers under his his palm so she could lift it slightly. She began to pump his hand up and down upon Galladon's back. Then she would stop, and rub Jaime's fingers over the boy's shoulder blades. Then quickly the forceful pats would begin again. Her moves were deliberate and strong. Jaime was certain he would bruise the babe's delicate skin.
"Is this not too hard?" He questioned, fearfully, his eyes wide with concern.
Brienne shook her head. "Not at all. You will not hurt him." She assured the nervous new father. "Sometimes it takes a bit of force." She described. "Try it yourself." She bid him, removing her own hand from the process.
Jaime's wrapping gentled a bit. "Keep it up the same way I did." She corrected. "He needs your help." Jaime complied, even over his worry.
A few moment later he was rewarded with a tiny muffled belch from his son's throat. It was the most adorable and gratifying sound Jaime had ever heard. He began to chuckle in amazement. Jaime looked at Brienne, a proud smile on his lips. She rewarded him with a small, satisfied up turn of her lips. Not the wide smile that melted his heart, but he was willing to accept anything.
"Is that it?" Jaime asked, willing to do whatever else was needed.
Brienne nodded. "Yes. You can relax." She refused to admit that she found Jaime's attempts quite comical. Who would have thought that the Lion of Lannister, the Kingslayer, would have met his match in a tiny helpless babe? Above all she she had no intention of letting on that she was extremely impressed at how natural he was taking to infant care. It relieved her a little to think that perhaps her child would not be left under totally incompetent supervision.
Feeling a little more at ease, and enjoy holding his son once more in his arms, Jaime carefully maneuvered the boy from his shoulder to the cradling elbow of his left arm. He used the handless stump of his right to support the babe from beneath. His heart melted at the groggy little yawn he received as a compensation for his efforts. The breath left his lungs with the joyous smile that shone upon his face. Before Jaime could recover his senses, his boy drifted off to sleep in his embrace.
"Follow me." Brienne beckoned as she stood. Jaime did as he was directed, and fell in step behind her as she walked toward her bedchamber, their child held securely at his chest.
The light in the room was soft through sheer draperies that Brienne drew closed. A gentle warm fire burned still in the hearth. Jaime realized that Brienne kept it burning throughout the day to warm her babe as he napped. She motioned toward the little bassinet which stood beside the head of her bed. Together, mother and father tiptoed to their son's bed. Brienne pulled back the soft quilt that covered the mattress. She took the clean cloth that hung over the rim and laid is across the middle of the mattress.
"In case his napkin leaks while he sleeps." She whispered softly. Jaime nodded his understanding. "He ruined two mattresses at Winterfell before Gilly let me in that little secret." Brienne giggled softly, lost in the memory. Jaime inwardly regretted not having been there.
"Samwell Tarly's wife?" Jaime asked. He had noticed the young family around the Red Keep, and was glad at the prospect that Brienne had a friend in Kings Landing.
Brienne nodded, and studied her sleeping child, memories of his long and harrowing birth filling her mind. "The Grand Maester and Lady Tarly delivered Galladon." She said softly. Jaime heard the painful recollection in her voice, as she reached and held onto her son's fingers. "If it were not for Gilly, we would both be dead." She whispered.
Jaime stared at Brienne, suddenly terrified even though the outcome had been a happy one. If she saw the fear in him, she did not reveal it, but continued her description. She did not know why she felt the need to retell the events of her child's delivery to Jaime, but something within would not allow her silence. "It took two days to bring him forth." Brienne stared rigidly ahead of her. "He was stuck within my hips. Gilly grasped my swollen belly and nearly pushed him from me herself." A small sweet smile found her face, as she remembered the first precious sight of her child.
A shutter ran through Jaime at her acknowledgement. His chest was hallow that he had not been there when Brienne needed him the most. Although his panic would have nearly overwhelmed him, Jaime wished to be nowhere else but there by her side, giving her strength. He knew it could never be. It was a moment of their lives that had passed without him. He realized he owed the young Tarly couple an immeasurable debt, one that despite his Lannister upbringing, he would never be able to repay.
Brienne gestured for Jaime to lay Galladon into the cradle. He lowered his stiff arms over the tiny bed and nestled their child carefully down upon the tick. Jaime's breath caught in his throat, fearful that any extra movement would wake the babe. He brought the quilt around Galladon's waist slowly, and smiled as the infant snuggled deeper into his sleep. Brienne bent down before him and laid a soft kiss upon her son's forehead. Jaime wished he could demonstrate such affection for his child. He stood with Brienne for a long moment, watching their child sleep. Jaime's soul was soaring to be with them. His heart already belonged to Brienne, and would for eternity. What he did not expect was how quickly and completely Galladon had taken possession of the organ within his chest as well. He had already fallen deeply in love with his own son.
After some time, Brienne touched his arm and nodded her head toward the door. "Come." She whispered. "He will only sleep for a little while. There is much to do." She told Jaime. He stole one last look at the angelic face of their slumbering babe while Brienne retrieved a heavy basket laden with clothing and linens from near the hearth. Together, they left the room.
Brienne gave no signs of stopping, resting, or even slowing down. As Galladon slept, she instructed Jaime in laundering the linens, and clothing their son required. She showed him where to find the buckets of water that had already been placed at the ready on the balcony. Those she set within the hearth to heat to near boiling. Returning to the terrace, Brienne filled a metal washtub with the steaming water. She used a cake of soap to create thick lather in the tub, and used a scrubbing board to scour each item in the basket she had picked up from the bedchamber. One of the buckets she used to rinse the solids from the tiny napkins worn by the babe. Brienne laughed out loud when Jaime gagged at the smell.
"You'll get used to it." She promised. He frowned, but accepted her prediction. As she handed him the soap and insisted he give it a try.
By the time they had attended to each garment and blanket, the items shone bright, clean and fresh, and ready for their child once more. Jaime noticed that Brienne's hands were red and chapped from the daily washings. "Did not the Septa do this for you?" Jaime asked, looking regretfully at her raw skin, as he helped Brienne hang the washing over the rail of the balcony to dry in the sun.
"Everyday." Brienne confirmed. "But there is always more." She nodded. "I usually have a basketful to do before I sleep at night." Her tone gave no hint of any resentment of the task. Jaime, however, was speechless with guilt and grief at the depth and breadth of her seemingly endless chores. Eveything she did for their son was in addition to, and after foreseeing her duties to the Crown. It was no wonder she seemed to tired. Again, Jaime found reason for shame. If only he had been there to help her.
They had barely stepped back inside when the sound of Galladon's cry commanded them to return to the bedchamber. Brienne hurried to soothe her babe. Jaime marveled at the sweet loving smile that beamed on her face as she hovered over the cradle. The loving sentiments with which she greeted the waking child were answered by the softest happiest coos and squeals from him. Jaime stood to the side unnoticed, as Brienne lifted Galladon into her arms and kissed his tiny head, holding him close as if she had not seen him in years.
"Could you fetch me that linen?" Brienne spoke to Jaime without looking up. She pointed absently to a long thick cloth draped over the footboard of her bed. He jumped to bring her what she needed.
Brienne lowered her chin in acknowledgment, and then pointed with it. "Lay it out on the bed." She directed. Jaime moved quickly to obey.
As soon as Jaime had smoothed the cloth over the mattress, Brienne laid their babe softly upon it, and began to remove the little sleeping gown he wore. Midway through, she stopped, remembering why Jaime was there. "Go ahead, undress him." She moved back to allow him closer to the mattress.
Jaime continued to raise the boy's garment over his head, revealing his plump little belly, and obviously full undergarment. He smelled it, as he realized what he was going to need to do. "Oh." Jaime remarked.
Brienne raised her eyebrows in anticipation. "Yes. It's napkin changing time." She confirmed, smiling again at her son.
The child wore a white cotton cloth folded around his legs and waist, with a large silver closure to secure it in the front. "Remove the pin and set it out of his reach." Brienne told Jaime. Again, he followed her instructions to the letter.
"Now unfold the napkin, and open it." Brienne's tried to hide her amusement at the horrified look that crossed Jaime's face upon seeing what he would be cleaning from Galladon's bottom. However, the shudder of laughter found her shoulders and escaped through her lips. "Really." She chided. "All the blood and muck that you have seen on the battlefield, and this is what flusters you, a babe's soiled napkin?" She eyed him, in shock.
Jaime realized the humor in his reaction, and joined Brienne in her laughter. It was good to jest with her again. For a moment he could almost imagine it had never changed. "Alright, then." Jaime answered. "Show me how to do this." He challenged, his brows swept upward in mock defensive.
Brienne oversaw Jaime's cleaning of their messy babe. She hated to admit it, but at least he did not seem to be making a total shambles of the process. His attention and care for the boy eased her mind a bit as the hours of the day passed. Next, on the agenda was bathing a squirming kicking infant. Brienne shared her secrets for warming a pail of water next the hearth instead of in the flames, to achieve the perfect temperature for Galladon's delicate skin. Jaime helped Brienne fill small wastub on a table beside the fire in her bedchamber. She guided Jaime in holding the slick babe while washing him, and drying him with the thickest linen kept warm beside fire. By the time the bath was finished, Jaime was unsure who had been more drenched, himself or Galladon.
At last Jaime and Brienne finished bathing their son. The child was once more clothed in clean garments. A fresh warm blanket was wrapped snuggly around him. Almost at the exact same moment, a knocking sounded upon the main door of the Lord Commander's quarters.
Brienne raised her eyes, satisfied. "That will be the midday meal." She noted.
Jaime eyed her with surprise, and he spun his neck in a double take."Midday? It is only Midday?" He searched the window trying to see the level of the sun in the sky.
A calm, wise, expression rested upon Brienne's face. "Yes. The days are long when you care for a little one." She sighed, and gathered Galladon to her, kissing the soft crown of his head. "But the time is short." Jaime thought her face held a melancholy sadness. Brienne could have imparted the many ways that she already saw the child changing, but fell silent clinging to her quickly growing son.
Jaime answered the door and saw the scullery maids into Brienne's apartments as she settled with Galladon beside the fire in the parlor, a large but light quilt gathered on her lap. Neither noticed the sideways glances with which the young girls who served their breads and cold meats regarded each other. Their amusement was caused as much by the obvious relationship between the Lord Commander and the Kingslayer, as by the fact that the Lion of Lannister was to serve as nurse maid to a child. The two quickly served the meal, curtsied, and hurried from the room lest they insult their masters.
Jaime offered Brienne a plate of food. She accepted it politely, but set it aside. She nestled Galladon into the curve of her elbow. It was obvious from the babe's fussy little cries that he was hungry. It was also clear that Brienne was anxious to feed the babe. Jaime took it a sign of trust when Brienne began to loosen the ties at the neck of her tunic. He busied himself preparing his own food, and tried not to look, fearful of making Brienne uncomfortable. He made a production of turning from the trays, hoping to signal to that he would be moving about the room. He did not want to cause her embarrassment.
When he turned, Jaime realized that Brienne was covering her nursing with the quilt. She had placed it loosely over her shoulder but open to her gaze. Jaime could see the movments of Galladon's eager feeding beneath. The thought made his smile at the sweet naturalness of the act. He could see a soft blush on Brienne's cheeks, and she tried to look away slightly.
"Would you like me to eat on the terrace?" He asked considerately.
Brienne shook her head. "No." She answered, and gestured to the seat across from her. "Here is fine if it is alright with you." Jaime bowed his head, and sat quickly, still trying to avert his eyes, but wanting desperately to behold the precious scene.
"We will need to get used to this." Brienne acquiesced. "Most days you will need to bring him to me for his noontime feeding, and there may not be any place private to go." She explained, trying to convince herself.
Jaime shrugged thoughtfully at her logic. He wondered if Brienne understood that he had already memorized every inch of her beautiful breasts. Instead of making any assumptions on the topic, he simple agreed and went about eating his meal. They sat in silence as Galladon finished from her.
Under her wrap, Brienne wriggled herself back into her garments, and tied them securely. She brought Galladon out from under his covering, and brought him to her shoulder, her experienced hands soon coaxing a tiny gas bubble from his belly. Finally feeling free to look, Jaime smiled warmly at them, and allowed himself to hope for the future.
Upon being relieved of the pressure in his belly, Galladon fell immediately asleep. Brienne looked searchingly around the room. Jaime was readily on the alert to retrieve whatever she needed. Her eyes fell upon something by the door. "Could you please bring me that basket?" She asked softly, pointing to a long, cradle- shaped hamper of woven reeds.
"Of course." Jaime jumped up eagerly, and took only moments to bring back the little portable cradle.
Within he saw there was a soft feather tick, and more cozy blankets. He set it on the floor beside Brienne's chair and watched as she nestled Galladon down within for his nap. Before he returned to his chair, Brienne had lifted a small cloth bag from the floor on her opposite side, and pulled out knitting needles, and a ball of yarn from inside. Attached to the strands of fibers was a little stocking just right for their son's tiny foot. Jaime was astonished at Brienne's newfound skill.
"Brienne of Tarth, the woman warrior of Winterfell, knitting baby booties?" Jaime gasped, his mouth agape. He did not mean it as an insult. He was completely amazed.
She answered with something in between a bitter scoff, and a scarcastic chuckle. "The woman warrior of Winterfell did not have a child to raise." Brienne remarked. She continued where she had left off her knitting, her fingers working fast, her concentration overly intense. Jaime felt no bigger than an ant on the floor. He realized that although she had granted him a small glimpse into their lives, he was still an outsider, perhaps an intruder now, almost a stranger.
"Brienne." He spoke dryly after a few moments. This time it was he who could not raise his gaze to her. "I know that you named him after me." Jaime said gratefully, his eyes traveling down to cast a loving stare over his son. "I know his first name if Jaimes." He told her.
Brienne's expression was unchanging, her hands stiching furiously. "I never call him that." She answered, her attempt to remain emotionless making her words seem more resentful than she had meant.
Jaime nodded. Surely the gesture must have meant that Brienne's feelings for him were, at the very least, buried somewhere deep within her injured heart. "If I may ask," He cleared his throat. "After I...After everything, why?" He wondered aloud, wanting something in her answer that might bolster his hope of mending the chasm between them.
For a long awkward moment, it appeared that Brienne would not reply. Then just as Jaime lowered his head, she spoke. "I suppose, at the time, it just seemed the right thing to do." She told him, a thousand miles of distance and an endless expanse of time visible upon her face. Brienne's chin quivered in the way that meant she was fighting her tears with all she had. He had seen it when first they had parted in Kings Landing. When she had embarked upon her search for Sansa Stark. The same painful expression had been the knife which pierced his own heart the last time he had left her at Winterfell. She looked urgently down to the yarn and needles in her hands, as if they were the most important things in the world. She found it was impossible to describe to him how giving their son his name had somehow, even in spite of her hurt and anger, had made him seem near to them.
Jaime did not press her further. He had no wish to raise her anger. He simply nodded and looked into the fire. "Thank you." He whispered.
Again they sat in silence, Jaime searching for something to say, and Brienne hoping he did not find it. As if Brienne's polished blade had called out, Jaime noticed the grand jeweled hilt of Oathkeeper, her glorious weapon laid carefully upon the mantle, a place of honor. He had seen that she still wore if proudly at her side. He thought it a promising sign. He had gifted it to Brienne when it was the only affection he could dare show her. Even when they were parted, he felt his own Widows Wail yearning for its companion, as his heart had for her. They had stood side by side, protecting Winterfell, protecting the living, protecting each other. The two swords had hung together on the posts of the bed that had seen the conception of their child. Jaime nearly winced to think that he was the one who had torn them apart. Surely, her holding fast to the gift of his heart, meant that her own still belonged to him.
Jaime stood and moved to the hearth. He ran his fingers over the golden lion head that crowned Oathkeeper. "It still shines the same as the day I gave it to you." He proclaimed. He hoped she would understand his true meaning. "You have kept it well." He praised.
At last Brienne raised her head and looked at him. She studied him seriously, For a moment, her expression was distant and sweet. She too was recalling the promise of the day it was given. Then her entire countenance fell, as if it had been destroyed. She sighed slowly, and focused on her blade. It was her most prized possession. It had always empowered her, strong and true at her side, as if Jaime had walked next her each time she donned the weapon. It made her feel as if nothing could harm her. Then something did, perhaps irreparably.
"My offer stands." She told him, staring ahead, her jaw steeled.
Jaime regarded her, his bewilderment evident. "Offer?" He repeated, her meaning lost on him.
Brienne nodded. "It was given as aid in my quest to find Queen Sansa." She reminded him. "I was successful in that mission, and more." She breathed in proudly, before her shoulders fell. "I tried to return it to you, on the field at Riverrun." Her words were slow, deliberate. Her memories fought her intentions, but she forced her will to finish for her. "If you wish it back, all you need do is ask." She said simply to Jaime as if she spoke of a common ordinary item, instead of her connection to him.
Jaime's breath failed him. He swallowed hard, his eyes damp with bitter tears. He shook his head, almost collapsing back onto the chair, his legs failing him. "Brienne." Jaime looked at her, anguish torturing his soul. "You and I both know what I meant that day." His tone pleaded with her to hear him, truly hear him. "You know I did not mean only the sword, when I told you it was yours, always." His fingers clenched around the arm of the chair. "After all we have been through. All I have stupidly done. My profession remains as true as it ever was." For a moment he lowered his head remorsefully. Unable to bare the pain in her tone, or in his own chest, Jaime stared at her more earnestly than he ever dreamed he could. Wordlessly, he begged her to listen. When he spoke, his vow was clear and compelling. "It belongs to no other." He swore.
Brienne grew wistful and silent to the point that Jaime thought she might rush into his arms, then and there. However, as quickly as the softness of her memories played within her head, the hurt in her heart screamed at her for caution. Her mind dragged the images before her eyes of his leaving, and of her birthing Galladon without him. "I know of what you spoke when you gave Oathkeeper to me." She admitted. "I know you even believed it, then." Her expression as she watched him was almost kind. There was a hint of compassion in the lilt of her voice.
She too had wanted it to be so, with all of her heart. Brienne had believed, as well, that they could be together, that there could be a future for them. Maybe they had been naive, thinking their love could have survived amid all of the death and destruction around them. Had they even had a right to hope? "Perhaps we were only fooling ourselves." A somber sigh seemed to deflate her entire body with grief.
Brienne could not tell which was larger, the lump in her throat, or the pit in her stomach. "But, Jaime." She looked at him with all the resolve she could muster. "You were never mine." Brienne declared sadly.
The words stung ruefully in his ears. If Brienne had slapped him across the face, it would have pained him far less. So this was what he had left them. No wonder Brienne had been barely able to look at him all these weeks. He had thought she would run into his arms when first they were reunited. Jaime was certain she would have held fast to his pledge, that his heart would always belong to her. At last he realized that he had not only broken that precious gift that was her heart. He had broken her. She no longer believed he had ever truly loved her. Jaime sat reeling, trying desperately to grasp onto steady ground. He knew that he had earned her distrust. He had painted the doubt onto her heart. There was no blame which he could lay upon her, and none for which he would ever forgive himself. He thought she would never doubt his love for her, but he had stripped her of that faith. He knew not how, but he would give his life to rebuild it. As Galladon slept, blissfully unaware, his parents sat in silence, worlds apart from each other.