Ella's Oneshots

[Ella]

Fandom: Game of Thrones
Summary: Jaime Lannister/Brienne of Tarth; in which Jaime follows Brienne, but then doubt strikes. Luckily, Tyrion is there to lend a helping hand; oneshot based on the events of 8x04.
Words: 1024

That's All There Is To It

You have to be always drunk. That’s all there is to it—it’s the only way. So as not to feel the horrible burden of time that breaks your back and bends you to the earth, you have to be continually drunk.

But on what? Wine, poetry or virtue, as you wish. But be drunk.

Be Drunk - Charles Baudelaire

               As soon as he stepped out of the hall, doubt attacked him like a viper, constricting him and making it impossible to breathe. By the gods, what did he think he was doing? He had barely caught sight of Brienne as she briskly walked across the corridor, away from Tormund’s hungry eyes. He wished he could find a good reason to punch the guy in the face, even though he was well aware that it wasn’t a fight he could possibly hope to win, and that he wasn’t any better – it wasn’t as he hadn’t been longingly staring at the woman all evening, as if he hadn’t imagined that perhaps, this evening… It was, after all, what he was standing in this hallway for.
               Jaime had never imagined that he’d even get to this point. He had planned to die on the battlefield, next to Brienne – he hadn’t expected either of them to survive and would gladly have given his life to save hers. But it hadn’t been necessary. They had fought, and they had won, thanks to the Stark girl. He still found it hard to believe that a girl like her – no, not hard to believe. He would bet that Brienne would have been able to fight at her age. It was simply difficult to connect the image of the Arya Stark he had seen in this battle with the Arya Stark that had come to King’s Landing all those years ago. She had been younger than Myrcella, then. Fierce, but still a girl. She was a girl no more.
               And yet, thanks to her, he was still alive. Thanks to her, he was in this corridor, wondering whether he should walk the not so numerable steps to Lady Brienne’s room, to – to what exactly? With Cersei it had never been this hard. Cersei had always wanted, and he had never had to take the initiative. With Brienne, he felt like a little boy having his first flirt. She would never initiate, which meant that he had to ask – he had to woo her. His charm was long lost, and wouldn’t work on Brienne anyway. If only he had some of his brother’s brains, he might be able to figure out this impossible enigma. You don’t just ask a woman if she wants to fuck you. Brienne deserved better than that.
               “What are you standing out here for?”
               Jaime turned to find his brother standing behind him, looking at him with a raised eyebrow.
               “I’m just – you know what I am doing.” He felt a blush creep on his cheeks, and he was sure he didn’t have that much wine. He really was like a little boy.
               “I know that you are standing in a darkened hallway, staring at a wall,” Tyrion said.
               At that moment, Jaime realised that he must truly look like an idiot. He had been standing here, probably murmuring to himself, for at least ten minutes. What if Brienne had actually gone to bed by now? What if he had missed his chance.
               “Go to her,” Tyrion said. “You know you want to.”
               “I don’t deserve her.”
               “You do.”
               “You’re only saying that because you are my brother,” Jaime said, a huff in his voice.
               “Perhaps I am,” Tyrion said. “I am your brother. But we’ve all done terrible things – things we regret. That doesn’t mean we should stop living.”
               Jaime turned his face away from this brother, hoping we wouldn’t be able to read his features in the weak light that the torches graced upon the hallway. “Brienne hasn’t,” he said softly. “Done terrible things.”
               “You’ve really got it bad, don’t you?” Tyrion said, a laugh in his voice.
               He’d missed this, and Jaime felt tears shooting into his eyes. Before Winterfell, when was the last time he’d talked to his brother? Properly talked, the way they used to? Poking fun at each other but being there for each other all the same? It must have been years. His brother’s betrayal of his family, the fact that he had killed their father, still was something he found hard to forget, and even harder to forgive. And even before the war, before all the killing, there had been Cersei, and there had his brother’s drinking. They’d been close, and yet they had drifted. Seven hells, even while they were in Winterfell their paths hardly crossed, if only because Tyrion was the Hand of the Queen and actually had an important contribution to make to her battles.
               “Jaime?”
               “Yes?” he asked, but his voice was barely audible. He willed the tears away, but didn’t dare to look at his brother. As if he doesn’t know. You were never a good liar.
               “Have you considered that this may not be about what you deserve? Life gives lots of people things they don’t deserve. Ned Stark didn’t deserve to die. His daughter didn’t deserve to be married to me. If you ask me, Gregor Clegane doesn’t deserve to draw breath, but it appears he is still going strong.” Tyrion paused, and placed his hand on Jaime’s right arm. “My point is, life happens. Things happen. Whether they are deserved or not. You’ve suffered, and I’m not the man to tell you whether you did or did not deserve that. But I know that right now, the fortunes are finally turning in your favour. Don’t throw that away. Who knows you may be given such a chance again.”
               Jaime drew a shuddering breath. “Do you think she wants it too?”
               Tyrion laughed. “She looks at you as if you hung the moon. The only thing that needs to happen is that one of you needs to get it through their thick skull to make the first step. And you know me, I’m always willing to lend a helping hand. Especially seeing that you’re short of one.”
               The lights flickered, and a few men passed. Jaime didn’t speak, but looked his brother in the eye. “What if I don’t have the courage?”
               “If you knew me, you’d know I have a very good answer to that.”
               “And that is?”
               “A strong drink, brother.”