The beast turned clumsily, too far and too fast. Quick as a cat, Brienne changed direction.
There’s the wench I remember.
She leapt in to land a cut across the bear’s back. Roaring, the beast went up on his hind legs again. Brienne scrambled back away. Where’s the blood? Then suddenly he understood. Jaime rounded on Hoat. “You gave her a tourney sword.”
The goat brayed laughter, spraying him with wine and spittle. “of courth.”
"I’ll pay her bloody ransom. Gold, sapphires, whatever you want. Pull her out of there."
"You want her? Go get her."
So he did.
"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.