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Being in an army camp after the heat of battle wasn't a new thing for Brienne, she had seen all the ways men reacted when the blood lust was still running through their veins during her time with both the Baratheon and Stark forces but tonight she found she couldn't just sit quietly in her tent and try to block out the sounds of drinking and fucking as she usually did. Not when they insisted on repeatedly playing that song.
She realised it was still early as she stepped outside, the late autumn sun was only just beginning to set in a brilliant display of reds and golds, the colours appropriate after the Lannister soldier's earlier victory.
Winter would be here soon enough, but for now at least it was warm enough for her to wander around the camp without too many layers of fur or, more importantly, the fear of being molested. Ser Jaime had put an end to that idea a few days after he brought her back from the Brotherhood Without Banners, though when the news of how it had ceased to exist reached Brienne she couldn't say she'd been all too pleased with him.
Though he had made up for it later.
She let herself smile as she remembered their erratic first kiss, neither of them too sure if it was exactly what the other wanted but somehow falling into a rhythm as comfortable and natural as breathing.
It may have been the first but it hadn't been the last, Ser Jaime finding increasingly creative ways to have at least a few moments alone with her every day. Even in a camp as big as the Lannister's secrets flitted from man to man like crows around the dead and it hadn't been too long before Brienne was whisperingly referred to as the Kingslayer's whore once more. At least it was closer to the truth the second time.
Ser Jaime had invited her to share his bed a few times, strictly to share body heat during the cold nights he had sworn but his slow lopsided smile had promised something else. There had been a tug in her stomach at the implication but she had excused herself each evening with a blush and a mumble, not ready to give up her maidenhood just yet.
Every day they still breathed gave her hope that they would see the spring and gave a possibility of a future together, however small that chance was. Yet every night brought her the golden knight that both plagued and pleasured her dreams and she'd wake up in the mornings surprisingly on edge.
"Are the festivities not to your liking wench?" Ser Jaime fell in step with her hurried pace, one of the few people that she'd ever met who could, as he appeared from his own living space.
"The song", she mumbled, subconsciously raising her hand to the healed scars on her neck, the only reminder that she had been placed in the bear pit at Harrenhal to die for the entertainment of Locke and his men.
"They mean no disrespect, Brienne, though if you would prefer a different melody I can have words with the musicians."
She shook her head silently, already having enough favour with the Lord Commander to attract attention she hadn't wanted in the first place. If they had meant any disrespect to her, whether accidentally or intentional, it felt likely that Ser Jaime would have done something equally as daring and stupid as jumping into the pit after her all those months ago.
"Wait", his hand was on her arm and she stopped inches away from the calling quiet of the wood the camp had set up beside, "You do know what that song is about?"
As she turned around to face him, Brienne saw a dangerous glimmer in his eyes, almost the same one he got before they would practice with the tourney swords he'd obtained, and found herself wondering if the wine he had been drinking in celebration had gone straight to his head.
"It's about a fair maiden and a bear. It's a jest", she answered straightforwardly having never really considered any symbolic nature to the song sung during her ordeal. Her answer hung in the air, Ser Jaime grinning as if she hadn't quite understood the question, his grip on her arm becoming tighter.
"My dear sweet innocent wench. How can you have seen so much but know so little?" using his arm as leverage he leaned in close and she tensed waiting for the second she would have to push him away before he attempted a kiss in the open air. Instead his mouth fell to her ear, breath heavy as he gave a very detailed explanation of her most hated tavern song ending with a nip to her earlobe that resulted in her letting out an involuntary squeak, his words or breath starting a strange ache in the pit of her stomach.
"Do women, I mean do ladies actually like that?" she was incredulous, her face flaming as red as the setting sun behind them at the idea, and not at all because the image of Ser Jaime's golden head between her thighs had appeared in her mind, his clever tongue making the fantasy version of her wantonly grunt and moan.
"It's just a kiss", he promised with yet another predatory grin, "In fact, I believe they call it The Lord's Kiss."
Brienne was still fighting with speechlessness as Jaime offered her his hand, "Would you be my maiden?"
If it hadn't been for the clarity shining in his hungry green eyes she would have been sure he was intoxicated, Ser Jaime would have never suggested such things in the full light of day. It wasn't a proper activity for any of the young ladies he would have encountered back at Kings Landing. Though this field wasn't the seat of power for seven kingdoms and she would never quite be the same as the noble ladies tied only to the honour that rested between their legs. Gods, even hoping for the future didn't mean that this couldn't be her last sunset.
With that thought clear in her head she took his outstretched hand carefully, intoxicated herself now as the pooling heat in her stomach spread and fluttered ever downwards.
As soon as the entrance to the Lord Commander's tent had flapped close Ser Jaime had pressed himself to her, not even bothering to check if the sentries and squires had departed for the victory feast. It was still a strange idea for Brienne to have a man, this man in particular who she had disliked and mistrusted on reputation alone a long time before they met and grew close, desire her to such a point where he could occasionally grow careless. She was the one who would push him away, remove his hand from hers as they ate side by side and act like there was nothing she cared about less when he casually mentioned he'd been dreaming of her again. Some days she wondered if he knew she had been doing the same thing.
His lips, mouth, tongue were slowly exploring hers now, an all too familiar territory following their numerous stolen moments around the camp. She had been claimed by him, by his touch, but he was as much hers as she was his and there was always a struggle for dominance as their lips met again and again. It was better than sparring, she thought, the yield only coming as a signal for more of the same, combining with a gnawing pressure that built deep inside, only disappearing hours after she left him alone. A primal part of her wanted the tension in her muscles to break, to explode, but Brienne still hadn't worked out what it meant never mind how to take care of it.
The fur that she had slung loosely around her shoulders was disposed of easily, the hide falling to the floor without a sound as Ser Jaime's left hand kneaded at her body through the remaining layers. Grazing over her meagre chest, he pinched and rolled around his intended target but the thickness of Brienne's jerkin and tunic prevented any of his actions actually being felt.
His hand fumbled with the buckles at her shoulder and waist, cursing the ties at her neck in his haste to disrobe her as quick as possible, though his mouth remained firm and persistent as he tasted the memories left across her skin from her slow descent into hell. Brienne offered her assistance with removing the top layer of leather and sheepskin, which he almost gratefully accepted, but when it came to the tunic he slapped her hands away with a frustrated growl.
"A bear there was", he murmured, moving to carefully lap along the now uncovered scar tissue at her neck where she had raked by such a creature. "All black and brown and covered in hair", he rubbed his chin and cheek against the healed but still sensitive skin, the animalistic gesture emphasising his final words as Brienne felt the prickle of Ser Jaime's beard.
"Shouldn't that be a golden bear Ser?" she asked firmly despite the sensations being produced under her skin, catching on far quicker than she had expected to.
"I think you can drop the Ser part now Brienne", Jaime laughed as he moved to take the ties of her tunic between his teeth and pulled back violently. She heard the undignified noise produced at the back of her throat as the material tore but didn't register it as Jaime had already begun to lick wantonly at both the exposed scars and pale freckled skin holding them together.
"Oh! Sweet she was and pure and fair", each word was a bruising open mouthed kiss as he ripped the remaining material away from her torso. Brienne quickly tried to cover herself up, worried he would change his mind when he saw her.
"I've seen it all before", Jaime told her offhandedly as he uncrossed her arms, holding her wrists behind her back as he skimmed his mouth ever lower, eventually falling to his knees in front of her. Brienne struggled against his restraining touch as he undid the fastenings of her breeches with a more dextrous ability than she ever would have thought possible, the heat from each careful exhale forcing her eyes closed and her hips desperately towards him.
"Honey", Jaime bit down at the scar he himself had left, letting go of her hands to cup her arse, the mark that was once a blooming rose now only a white blemish along an otherwise unmarred thigh.
Brienne glared down, hands moving from where she'd had to momentarily grip at one of the ropes holding the tent up, fiercely pulling him away from her by the hair, "What did you just call me?"
"Wench", she heard Jaime's half laugh at the pure aggravation in her voice despite her almost nakedness, "We need honey", he trailed his fingers up and down the inside of her leg to come tantalising close to where she was aching for him to touch. "For authenticity."
"Why are you the bear?" she relaxed her grip on his head before she realised what she'd just asked and the responding embarrassment flickered and flowed across every inch of her. Jaime followed the spread carefully with his eyes.
"I know of only one maiden here."
Her next words were a whisper, barely audible above yet another rousing performance of a song Brienne was suddenly not feeling so much hatred towards, "On the road, after they took, after they took your hand, you wouldn't have survived, without me."
"And I rescued you back, how many times now?" he leaned back to rest on his ankles, looking up at her through heavy lidded eyes, his eagerness to return to his earlier position tangible, "I'd say I've more than paid my debt in that regard", his fingers danced up her thigh, tracing through her smallclothes and she bit back a moan, arching into the touch. He smiled at her, self satisfied already and they hadn't even really begun.
"Jaime?"
His hand snuck under the cloth and she let out a grunt as he circled the tender flesh still hidden from view.
"Jaime?" his name was all breath that time she realised, "I think the honey isn't actual honey."
He raised an eyebrow, "I didn't realise you could be so quick. But..."
"Jaime?" she repeated for a third time, "There's honey on your table."
His returning smile could only be described as wicked as he stripped away her remaining clothing before leaving her wanting as he retrieved the sticky sweet substance.
It must have been left over from breakfast, Brienne thought as he returned, the wickedness still evident across his features. She thought he'd maybe spot a bit across her thigh to nod to the lyrics, but her eyes widened as he scooped the entire pot onto his palm and smeared it across her skin from collarbone to groin in one smooth movement.
The honey was cold against the fire she had become and she tried to prevent the surprised gasp that left her lips on contact, the gold sticking to her and sealing in every bead of sweat that had either appeared on her skin or still waited for it's turn underneath. Jaime pressed a kiss to her breast, the honey beneath his lips spreading but refused to be removed even when he sucked down hard. She was a golden maid now to match her golden knight, golden bear.
Her muscles rippled as he moved to kiss her navel, her hip bone, her inner thigh until she got used to the temperature and the cloying almost restrictive feeling.
"I want to hear you", he told her as he settled back down between her thighs, almost as breathless as she was, "I need to hear you."
"Jaime", she whispered, huge hand going to his hair, the sweetness running off her in slow running streams, urging him to finish what he started.
"As my lady, no, as my maid commands."
The first touch of his tongue was like someone had set off a popping explosion in her head that fizzled all the way from the throb between her legs to her toes and back again. As another sound slipped out of her unbidden she realised that this may be the only time she was ever going to experience this and that she should want it to last forever. Though it was too good, he was too good, his tongue swiping along her in long strokes, collecting honey and the dampness that seemed to have escaped the pool in her stomach to trickle down her thighs and the build up in her muscles wanted a quick release.
She sighed and he curled his tongue, hitting a hard spot she didn't even know she had. Her grunt the second time he swept over it was loud enough to wake the dead and she was thankful for the feast to block out everything in his tent.
Jaime fell backwards to take a deep breath, his face glistening with proof of his work, moving back to take one of her strong thighs over his shoulder, laughing at her shocked expression, "Much better."
Her head spun, clearing as he moved his lips, teeth, tongue over her, effortlessly gentle, until he groaned and bit down. She clutched into his hair tighter and he moved closer, though that wasn't even possible by that stage, pushing her up off the ground and holding her there for a moment.
The release wasn't what she had been expecting, it pushed to an unmistakable edge and held her suspended as if in mid air for one, two, three long seconds. The fall was exquisite as it washed over her in waves and waves. She was lost in the rising swell and his name was the only thing, the only idea left in her head as her muscles spasmed.
He looked delighted when he set her down, pupils huge and breath coming out in heavy pants. Brienne pulled him to his feet and to her lips, hands sneaking beneath his tunic to touch, to feel, to memorise the sensations that made her purr in her over sensitive state.
"A golden bear", she muttered, pulling him to her again and towards his bed, her skin still oh so sticky sweet and covering him to a point where he had to slip off his own clothes after he had rubbed and bucked against her repeatedly.
Let the feast continue all night, she thought as he silently gave her permission for her lips to taste him now, bittersweet, there was more than enough to entertain her where she was.
"And a maiden oh so fair."
She shoved him hard down into the bed in retaliation, but for tonight at least she allowed herself to believe the lie.
'And off they went from here to there
The bear, the bear and the maiden fair.'