Bäahal : yearning

Bäahal : yearning

A/N : You have to understand. Bäahal had been yearning for the Knight, for a LONG LONG time. I'm thinking that this would take place slightly before they left Casterly Roc because her mind would definitely NOT be focusing on that as they travel back to King's Landing.

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Bäahal couldn't sleep that night. The heat made her hair stick to her face and back and the thin fabric of her nightgown cling to her curvaceous body. She had braided her hair and tied everything on a high ponytail just to be more comfortable that night but nothing could quite help her feel better. Nothing, not the Seawind that gently brushed over her face, or the very revealing nightgown she was wearing that night. Nothing could stop her heart from beating so fast against her ribcage, or the heat that radiated from her cheeks from blushing so hard. Jaime's room was a few footsteps from hers and the thought made her heart skip several beats and she imagined him walk into /her/ room. He would walk behind her, closing the distance between their bodies and would plant a kiss on her shoulder. The first skin he would dare touch. The thought made her chuckle for she thought of herself as a young maiden and she quickly dismissed the thought.

Instead, she leaned onto her balcony, one arm laid flat on the stone while her chin leaned into her warm palm. Instead, she decided to let her mind wander a little. She spoke with Kyra about Jaime and claimed her love for him in front of his sister; She explained the way she saw Jaime. For the princess, he was an honest man. She met him at Winterfell, at the dawn of the Great War against the Night King. Here he was, alone, brave and strong. Here he was determined to fight for the living and suffer the ire of his enemies. He didn't mind, he didn't care. He was a sheep walking among wolves or to be more precise, the lion walking into a wolf's den. His bravery, his honesty, and his strength attracted her like a moth to a flame. Jaime never lied to her, nor did he try to hide from her. His brutal honesty ripped the hypocrite veil she was draping herself with, it awoke the sleeping dragon she had chained for far too long. He reminded her how it was to live. Oh... even if for thousands the golden lion had lost his touch and charisma, for the princess he'd never been so bright. She was pulled towards him, and perhaps that was Fate, perhaps she rejected her Fate and wrote her own story but she knew from the last night spent before he left Winterfell that she wanted to find him again.

Jaime was...a man whose whole life was driven by love. He loved his family, yes, even though conflicts and betrayal tore them apart. He loved his children, even though he couldn't openly claim them. He loved Cersei despite the opposite never being true. He loved the monster she was, allowed her to turn him into one, protect her until she refused to let him do so. He had been loyal to her, to the very end, even after she had him imprisoned. Jaime was loyal and committed. And she could see the melancholia and sadness creep into his eyes as he spoke of his great love. She could see that he wished things were different but accepted they would never be. Jaime's love was something precious, something Bäahal had always wanted to protect. Even when she tried to break him off of the spell Cersei cast on him, she respected his choice, she respected his love. Even when her own heart bled for him and screamed and yelled and yearned for him, she respected his love because she knew how rare it was. Jaime loved deeply, he loved unconditionally and he loved for all eternity. Even now, while he'd moved on, she knew a part of him would always love Cersei and what they made together -his children- And she didn't blame him for it, she didn't reject him for it. It was a part of his life, a part of his blood, something she wouldn't want him to deny or reject.

Her purple eyes glowed brightly, almost as if they weren't real, as emotion was overwhelming the princess. She had let her mind wander away from her initial thoughts, but enjoyed where it was heading. She knew she was in love with him -admitted it to herself- the day she learned he survived the end of the last war and was hosted by Bronn at Highgarden. She cried herself to sleep that night, out of relief that she could have the chance to see him smile. She could have the chance to hear his voice again but more importantly, she could have a chance to wrap her arms around his chest and pull him into a hug. The princess wasn't fond of being touched by people she had not chosen. She wouldn't even seek physical comfort except for her close family (Dany and Jon) and Missandei who was her best friend and knew her the longest. She wouldn't let anyone get near her but she'd always wanted to be near Jaime. She'd always wanted to hold his hand, stroke his cheek, and hug him. That night, as the thought of feeling his warm body pressed against her in an enthused embrace, Bäahal realized that she had to find him and head to Highgarden to do so.

He was her spring and her Winter, her summer, and her fall. He was everything for the princess who dropped her task at hand -being an ambassador for the queen-, to find the man she loved. Bäahal never questioned her feelings for the knight. She never doubted herself. It wasn't just because she did try to forget him and move on with other princes and lords but they never clicked. She never wanted them. She hated the fake smiles or the lack of charisma. She hated to be seen as a commodity, or as a step towards more power, or towards her sister Daenerys. Jaime didn't care about her status, he didn't care about her being a princess. He knew the real Bäahal, the woman who was passionate and stubborn, the woman who was determined and confused. The one who was loving and caring to the point of almost dying at a siege defending the commoners to her dying breath. He had always wanted to talk to the real dragon and not the mockery of a dragon she put when they met. He never idealized her, nor did he try to model her and he embraced her. Jaime never judged, not even when he called her silly for thinking she was meant to die. He never judged her past, never saw her as tainted and soiled by the rapes and the servitude. He only saw the woman, in all her complexity just as she only saw a man.

Jaime Lannister was a man of honor. He was a man who sacrificed his reputation, the fact people loved him and respected him, in order to save thousands. He killed her father, not because he wanted to but because it was the right thing to do. Jaime, in Bäahal's eyes, was a protector. He was someone good. Yes, he did kill, maimed, kidnapped, and probably traumatized poor souls for the family's sake. Yes, he did unspeakable things in the past but she believed that he had atoned for his crimes, he'd paid the price. His missing limb, the loss of status, the miserable life and the loss of his children and Cersei was enough punishment -she thought-

But Jaime had never fully experienced her loving side, not in a way she herself had experienced yet. Bäahal sighed and looked at her chest for a minute. He knew her past, so he would notice the ironed branding on her shoulder blades. He would see the name of the man who once owned her. He would see the whip scars she had on her back from the days they wanted to teach her a lesson. He would see what clever pieces of clothing hid during her dances and the sad attempts at scratching the name off of her skin. It was too deep, she didn't cut deep enough and gave up after a few tries. It was her past, it was telling her story. She decided to keep it. Her skin, despite those scars, remained soft, warm, just as her hair always had that silky texture to it so many people loved. Her lips were still plump and juicy, willing to discover his own scarred body and smother it with kisses. Jaime Lannister had always been a handsome man to the princess. He was handsome because of his features, of course, sharp, chiseled by the gods and bright. The blonde hair, the emerald eyes that sent shivers down her spine, the square jaw she wanted to feather stroke, the morning beard.. she bit her bottom lip and sighed deeper.

Her chest heaved up and down as she felt the shiver go down her spine and into her loins. Jaime was handsome..yes he was. His broad chest and strong arms felt comfortable and she wanted to be embraced by the knight just so she could feel safe by his side. She wanted to feel his arms wrap around her frame and let her feel that she could let go of her fears. She was safe, with him. -because she was-. His voice was rich, warm, and arousing. Despite her best efforts, Jaime Lannister provoked desire. She, who never thought she could get any satisfaction nor need for a man, experienced craving one so strongly. She desired him, the thought of him made her body tense, her neither lips wet. She could feel her breasts feel heavier and a little more sensitive and then, there were the images that crept into her mind. Those of passionate embraces she'd done in the past but with a different outcome this time. Her, with eyes wide open or tightly closed, her with difficulty to gasp and a need to scream her pleasure.. her, with the delicious need to become one with the knight. Jaime did that to her, Jaime made her realize it could exist. A need so strong she would feel it from the sweet throbs of her womb to the sweat sticking to her neck. Ah.. she needed the fresh air.

And while she prayed for the Seawind to blow harder on her and clear her thoughts, the princess was hoping that her sister would grant her blessings to this union. Part of her still wondered if Jaime had felt the same way or if she was delusional in her emotions. But he said the words. He said the words, and it must have been true. It had to be true.

-TBC-