“The bear smelled the scent,”
“On the summer air!”
“The Bear! The Bear!”
“All black and brown,”
“And covered with hair!”
“He smelled the scent,”
“On the summer air,”
“He sniffed and roared,”
“And smelled it there!”
“Honey on the summer air!”
“Oh I’m a maid,”
“And I’m pure and fair,”
“I’ll never dance,”
“With a hairy bear,”
“A bear! A bear!”
“I’ll never dance,”
“With a hairy bear!”
Jaime: I’m strong enough.
Brienne: Not interested.
Jaime’s head jerked round at the sound of a distant roar, faint but ferocious. It echoed off the walls of Harrenhal, and the laughter swelled up like the sea. All of a sudden, he knew what was happening. Have we come too late?
His stomach did a lurch, and he slammed his spurs into his horse, galloping across the outer ward, beneath an arched stone bridge, around the Wailing Tower, and through the Flowstone Yard.
They had her in the bear pit.
“You want her? Go get her.” So he did.
You know what they should use to show that Jaime is thinking about Brienne in later seasons?
A WWBD (what would brienne do) bracelet that he looks at longingly all the time while emotional music swells in the background.
He could try, bless him. I don’t know how that tactic would pan out in terms of efficacy.
Ser Jaime reminds me of Moses for The Prince of Egypt in this picture.
oh my goddddddddddddddd
From behind came a great splash. Jaime whirled toward the sound … but the faint light revealed only Brienne of Tarth, her hands bound in heavy chains. “I swore to keep you safe,” the wench said stubbornly. “I swore an oath”. Naked, she raised her hands to Jaime. “Ser. Please. If you would be so good.”
The light was so dim that Jaime could scarcely see her, though they stood a scant few feet apart. In this light she could almost be a beauty, he thought. In this light she could almost be a knight.
She was as tall and strong as he remembered, yet it seemed to Jaime that she had more of a woman’s shape now. “Listen.” She put a hand on his shoulder, and he trembled at the sudden touch. She’s warm. - Jaime’s dream, A Storm of Swords.
I dedicate this gifset to jaimelannistrs.
The Bear and the Maiden Fair
“Ser Jaime?” Even in soiled pink satin and torn lace, Brienne looked more like a man in a gown than a proper woman. “I am grateful, but… you were well away. Why come back?”
A dozen quips came to mind, each crueler than the one before, but Jaime only shrugged. “I dreamed of you,“ he said.
do you think it bothers me that I can reblog the exact same scene multiple times in a 24 hour period?
if you do you aRE WRONG!!!!