astolat's Braime Fanfics

Three weeks into their delightful slog across Westeros, during yet another charming day of shitting in the woods, eating half-raw squirrel, and trudging his feet bloody, the single most dour and uninteresting woman Jaime had ever met in all of Westeros stopped in the middle of a field, drew a deep b

“Marry me instead,” Jaime said.

Tywin gave her a stern look. “Watch your tongue.”“Or what, you’ll cut my head off, like your grandson did to my father?” Arya spat at him, a cub trying to bite with milk teeth.

“Why not a hook, though?” Brienne said, and Jaime followed her gaze to the golden hand covering his stump. He paused, and she added, “It’s pretty, but it’s not much use, is it?"

Almost the instant Brienne was out of earshot, Bronn turned to Podrick, jerked his head towards Jaime and asked, “Has he fucked her yet?”

Robb Stark had swept his entire hand of cards off the table, and Tyrion couldn’t see how to make a single play at all.

“So we’ll look for you in the North," Robb Stark said, "coming to pay your debt."

There is a land of the living and a land of the dead and the bridge is love, the only survival.—Thornton Wilder

The deep satisfaction of having made the right choice; of having found a clear-flowing wellspring of true honor to protect.

Tyrion almost couldn’t imagine Father doing any of it. Except that it had worked, which justified all things.

"It's a choice every time," she said.