#Brienne of Tarth angst

[littledollll]

Hi! Oh my goodness, I just followed your page and I’m obsessed with your work, it’s so well done! I was wondering if you could write something up for Brienne, where she’s jealous over the reader for dating someone else, when SHE’S the one who rejected the reader’s feelings because she was scared of getting hurt? Could be smut, but I just NEED the confrontation 😭

Walk away

Brienne of Tarth x reader

A/n: the ideas! They’re flowing i can’t stop them! No smut in this part butttt I’m so open to making a part two!!

Warnings: ANGSTTTT, rejection, jealousy

It was a few weeks ago when you confessed your love for Brienne, only to be met with a rejection. You didn’t take her rejection lightly, but you also weren’t going to sit around and wait for true love to fall out of the sky. So after you focused on yourself and got your shit together you started dating again.

It was fun, getting to know people, see what you like and don’t like, see the type of people you just click with, and also have a distraction. You met someone, it stopped being a distraction, you actually liked them, she was nice, a good listener and had a stunning body.

Brienne didn’t care for your dating life, not until you went out with the same girl twice, then thrice, and then it wasn’t just dates, you’d spend most of your week together, so even when Brienne wanted to talk to you she never had the chance to catch you alone.

Tonight you kissed her. Not just a peck or a quick goodbye kiss like you’ve done before, it was practically a make out session in the corner of a bar. A bar Brienne had been dragged out to by other knights. If envy was a person surely it would be her.

The girl took her leave after 10 minutes of torturing Brienne, and that’s when she decided she’d approach you, your smile dropped the second she was close enough to talk to. “Brienne, lovely to see you acknowledge I exist!” She cleared her throat. “Could we talk? Outside?” You looked at her like she just asked you to sell yourself in the brothel down the street.

“I don’t know if I should Brienne, I was busy just a second ago as you saw, by the way green doesn’t look good on you, and I’m afraid I have to get back to my lady in a few, so why should I?”

“I’d like a chance to discuss things.” You laughed. “Now? It’s been weeks Brienne. You know what, I will join you, I’m rather interested in what you’re gonna say to excuse yourself.” You stood from your booth and pulled her along with you to a quieter spot near the bar. “Go on. Talk.”

“I made a mistake, rejecting you I mean, I never explained and you never even knew- I felt- I feel the same way, I always have-“ you looked hurt as she talked, making her pause. “You’re late. So late. I love you Brienne, I do, but I like her, and she likes me, I could grow to love her. She treats me like I deserve, she’s open and sincere, and she doesn’t run away.”

“I- I was afraid. I don’t think you should be with her. I was scared of getting hurt but I’m not anymore.” You sighed. “And that’s understandable but do you have any idea how much it hurt me? When you just rejected me with no explanation. Rejected me and then proceeded to avoid me for days whenever I tried talking to you. The only times I’d ever see you care about my existence is when I’m with somebody else, frankly what you think has nothing to do with me.”

“You could do so much better than her, you don’t like going out every night she’s draining you and you know it” she was right. “It’s not your problem to worry about! I could get used to it. It’s fun, and I’m with her so it’s worth it.” You didn’t want her to be right. “You-“ you cut her off angrily.

“That’s not your problem Brienne, whatever I do, it stopped being your problem the second you turned your back and walked away that day, so please. Let me move on.”

You could see the girl step outside looking for you, you stepped aside from Brienne waving her down she immediately started walking over once she saw you.

“Walk away because you so expertly know how to.”

[twinge-of-cosmicangst]

What a valiant roar

What a bland goodbye

The coward claimed he was a lion

I’m combing through the braids of lies

“I’ll never leave”

“Never mind”

Our field of dreams, engulfed in fire

Your arson’s match, your somber eyes

And I’ll still see it until I die

You’re the loss of my life

[wifeofwandamaximoff]

Fine...

A/N: Sorry it took so long to update I just didn't really have the motivation also I usually don't proofread my work so I do apologize. Also I wanted to update as quick as I can while making this so its a bit smaller then I would've preferred but ill try to make a longer part next time! Also thank you Max for the tips!

"Come in." Weems said from the other side of the doors. Oh how her voice was so raspy and soft. It's like whenever she talks her words are coated in love spider webs.

I step into her office, mentally preparing myself to see her. Once i'm in her office I instantly see her red plump lips that look so inviting. I quickly shake my head slightly to get out of my trance.

"Im here for our art lesson." I said with my stoic expression, my voice sounding like a hundred freshly made blades.

"Ah yes Miss Addams, I apologize I lost track of time." She said apologetically. Which I stared at her. The air in the room wasn't awkward but it wasn't comfortable either. She then decided to interrupt the silence.

"Follow me to the art studio then, this is where we will meet up instead of you coming to my office just like today." She smiled while standing up and walking around her desk.

She opened the door for me, I then step out of her office and wait for her to lead the way. When she was walking on her way to walk in front of me our hand's gently grazed each other. Making me feel spiders crawl in my stomach.

"Here we go Miss Addams." She smiled sweetly while opening a door. Inside there were a bunch of blank canvases, art supplies, etc. Basically any art supplies that some artist wished to have is right here in this very room.

I scan the room to see two canvases set up for the both of us and two stools. I look back at her to see her smiling at me with that soft smile that could make even an Addams's heart melt.

"Lets begin Miss Addams." She smiled, gesturing towards the stools. I stay quiet and go sit on one of the stools. She then goes to occupy the other one.

"Now Miss Addams what do you already know about art?" She asks me. I look at her, thinking if I should answer her or not. Eventually I decided to.

"About how to make art or what is art?" I asked in my icy cold tone. I see her a shiver a bit from that tone making my lips twitch in a small smirk. I quickly turn away, hoping she didn't see it.

"Well I suppose I should be more specific, what is art Miss Addams?" She said while clearing her throat. I see her starting to take off her gloves to reveal her soft porcelain skin.

Seeing her pale skin makes me shiver, but of course my skin was paler. "Art is a way of communicating with your thoughts and feelings, but thats the deeper meaning. Art is an object that is expressed with skill and imagination." I said while getting some acrylic paint out.

Weems just looks at me with a soft smile. "You think outside the box Miss Addams." She compliments. "Your first assignment is to paint what you have on your mind right now. Now this may take a couple of sessions to complete but do not rush."

I then think for a moment, I then look around the room. My eyes then look at her. In that moment I then decided what I was gonna paint.

----

The next day I was roaming the halls when Enid came up to me.

"Bell! The Poe Cup is soon and I was wondering if you could join us? Wednesday said she'll go if you go so please say yes!" Enid squealed. Shaking my shoulders making my tempted to cut off her fingers and stack them right in front of her.

"Ill think about it now please don't ever touch me again." I said before pushing her away. Not too hard but not to soft either.

I then walk to the quad, up from above I see Weems with her binoculars looking down at all the students. Our eyes then lock making her put her binoculars down and smile at me. Making a bowl of spiders crawl in my stomach. Which was definitely a feeling I was unaware of. I then turn away, walking to the art room since it was my free period and deciding to work on my painting for a while.

I peeked back a bit to see Weems with a sad expression before going back into her office.

I walked into the art room and looked over at Weems's painting. It seemed like a painting of black rose. My favorite rose...

"Lets play 21 questions hm? I think its only right since we will be giving these paintings to each other." Weems smiled at me. I just nodded.

"You will got first Weems." I said flatly while giving her my usual glare. She just nodded before thinking for a bit.

"Why did you decide to come to Nevermore?" She asked me after a few minutes. I think about my answer for a bit.

"Because I was in a boarding school in France before. I was there for a few years and I decided I wanted a change of scenery and Wednesday has expressed how much she wanted me to come back through our letters to each other." I said while starting to paint the background. Some clouds with hues of pale yellow.

"A boarding school in France? Wednesday told you she missed you?" Weems said, firing questions at me.

"Wednesday and I are very close. We always did everything with each other and for the question about me going to France for school. I needed to get away from mother and father. They were too affectionate and over-protective." I said while creating soft stroked on my canvas. I look over to see Weems with a bit of a sad look.

"Too affectionate?" She said in a bit of a sad tone which she tried to hide but I caught on right away.

"Yes too affectionate, they would smother me in hugs and kisses and always made sure to know where I was going." I said a bit softer then usual.

She just nodded which I thought was a bit strange but I brushed it off. I then started to think of what I should ask her.

"Do you think angels are good?" I asked. She looked at me perplexed since this was a strange question for me to ask her. She then thought for a bit.

"I do believe angels are good Miss Addams. They are supernatural beings that have many tales about their good deeds and what they have done for humans in the past." She said. I then see her finally starting to pain.

"Yes but only of their good deeds, they must have committed something down right sinful at least once." I said while starting to paint some golden gates. The gate ways to heaven hell. As I believed she was sent from heaven hell.

"What's your favorite flower Miss Addams?" She asked with a smile.

"A black rose." I said with ease. One of the easiest questions that could she could ask from me.

"It represents elegance and mystery." I said while glancing over at her. I see her get out black, grey, and white paint. I then quickly assume she will be painting my flower which made the corner of my lips turn up a bit before I shook that odd pleasant feeling down.

I then quickly return back to the present. Though I felt a strange feeling when I realized she was painting my favorite flower.Even though I already knew that it still made spiders crawl in my stomach. Basking myself in joy despair.

I then hear Enid calling my name which me roll my eyes. I then hear her open the door to the art room to see me which made her grin widely.

"Bella! Can you participate in the Poe Cup this year please?" Enid asked with puppy eyes which didn't prove effective on me.

"No." I stated plainly before going back to painting.

"Please Bella? I know I already asked today but please??" She pouted which made me roll my eyes before sighing.

"Fine." I said, finally relenting to join this silly event.

"Really?" Enid said happily, about to go in for a hug before I glared at her. Signaling to not do that.

"Oh Principal Weems will be so happy that you'll join! I told her how I wanted you to join the team today and she hoped that you would join and you did! I have to go thank her!" Enid smiled excitedly.

"Oh and we'll build the boat this week!" Enid smiled before walking out.

I sighed, already regretting my decision to join the Poe Cup. But I then thought about how Weems would be happy to see me play which made it kind of worth it.

I snap out of my daze, looking back at my painting of an angel. As I saw Larissa Weems as an angel. I mentally conflicted with myself if I should use Weems's face but decided against it since it would seem weird. I decided to put a mask on the angel. The identity hidden.

I then feel something crawl on my shoulder to see Thing. I glare at Thing, mentally saying to get off my shoulder.

Thing decided to stay on my shoulder which irritates me.

"What do you need Thing?" I asked while starting to paint the mask of the angel. Thing quickly starts doing signals which makes me look at him.

"You want me to help Enid build the boat?" I said asking him. Which makes him sign a yes. I sigh, looking back at my painting before starting to clean up.

"I suppose." I said setting Thing down on the floor. Thing then starts to lead the way to where our team was building the boat.

In the distance I see the blonde werewolf and my sister. I get closer and seem them both trying to paint a black cat which makes me sigh. I then decide to paint the other side.

"Leave the painting to me you fools." I said starting to paint. Enid looks surprised that I was helping out since Wednesday probably told her I wouldn't. It seems that Wednesday was surprised to. I just glare at them making them both quickly go back to painting the other side.

"Thing tie my hair up." I ordered which makes him do so obediently. He ties my hair making my raven hair into a ponytail. My hair shining a deep purple in the sun.

After about an hour of painting I am halfway done with my side. I look over to see the two gone. I then feel three sets of eyes looking at me. I turn around to see Enid and Wednesday looking at me paint. But there were only two people behind me. I drag my eyes around my vicinity to see no one us but us three. Weird...

I decide to ignore it and go back to painting my cat for our team.

After about another hour I finish my painting, going back a few steps to marvel at my work. I see Enid come closer, inspecting it before turning to me and smiling.

"Oh Bella it looks amazing! Thank you!" She said happily, about to go in for a hug which makes me step back immediately. Like second nature.

I see Wednesday right next to me, shoulder to shoulder. I see Enid looking at us excitedly before pulling out her brain sucking device.

"We should take a picture and make memories!" She said excitedly before snapping a picture of me and Wednesday making me a bit mad but I suppose it was okay. Just one photo...

After Enid took our photo I demanded to see it. Conflicting with myself if I could delete it or not. I take the phone and look at the picture. Me and Wednesday standing shoulder to shoulder, Enid in the corner of the picture. A failed part on hers of trying to include herself in the selfie. I then examine the photo.

But in the background I see a shadow...A shadow of a large figure. The tree right next to the shadow has three claw marks...

I then look back to see the shadow gone but the marks still there...

Taglist:

@poorwritingandstalecoffee  @maxfanartfan @a-goblin-named-cherry

[gwensstar]

you ran and you ran long and the air in your lungs began to give you a hard time. you were hiccuping as tears streamed across your cheeks like two wild rivers, meeting and connecting to one between your breasts.

when did they become so evil? you knew that it was literally them, they were the Devil. but they would never hurt you, they would never. or so you thought.

your cries were painful and they heard them all until you’ve reached the gate and your feet have crossed it. it pained them, it burned within them, it ate them up like maggots.

but the reality hit them harder than ever, for once they couldn’t use their power and change the track of things. you were too pure. too sweet. Lucifer feared they would break the little porcelain doll you were and so they sent you off. they spat venomous words. you went pale as if they just fed you poisoned treat.

they stand alone, a hole in their chest. for once they reached heaven again, for the second time it slipped from their grasp.

[no-phrogs-in-hats]

Hello hello! I'm here with a request for a Brienne/female Reader fic if it tickles your fancy.

Brienne is Reader's personal guard, and is tasked to escort her to her future husband for her marriage. Problem being, Brienne is in love with her, but being the honorable soul she is, she would never let it show.

Luckily, Reader has a crush on her as well, and the time they spend together while travelling makes her fall even harder.

Angst! Jealousy! Drama! Happy ending!

Hopefully they end up running away together to a faraway land.

Love and War Part 1

Brienne x fem!reader

Warnings: Arranged marriage, light angst

A/N: Ofc it tickles my fancy! I'm combining this ask with another one that will be used in the second part:) I hope you like it<3

This isn’t fair. This isn’t fair. This isn’t fair.

Slamming the door to your bedroom, you rush to your bed, sobbing. You knew you were betrothed since birth, but it never settled upon you until this year. You had only just met him months ago, and now you’re being forced to marry him for…advantage? Whose advantage? Certainly not yours.

“It’s for the good of the kingdoms!” 

Your father’s voice rang in your head. What else was there to do? You couldn’t run away, a search party would be sent out before you could get a mile away. You thought about all of your options and the biggest sacrifice you’d have to make came to your mind: Brienne.

Such confusing feelings lied with her. How your chest fills with butterflies when you simply think of her, but refusing to accept it as a feeling of love. But the way she stood by you, vowing to protect you and keep you safe from all harm–her loyalty, her honor, her empathy–all swayed you from feeling like this was an innocent friendship. But how would she be able to protect you from this? From a man ten years older than you whose only job is to create an heir to his throne.

A knock on your door drew your attention away from the window. The door opened and a woman entered. Brienne stood in the doorway, her hands fidgeting in front of her. “Your Highness? The carriage is ready.”

You turned around and smiled softly at her. “Thank you, Brienne. I’ll be down shortly.”

With a curt nod, she left the room and closed the door. You stared out the window at your reflection and took a deep breath. Within the past month, you had been fit for a wedding dress, forced to help plan this occasion, and now, in the coming days, you’d be tying it all together. Writing it in ink. Etching it into your headstone.

The carriage ride to the sea port was quiet. When the horses stopped, Brienne exited immediately, assisting you as you got out. You always liked how her hand felt in yours. 

In your cabin, you sat up in bed, reading in the light of a candle. Your shoulders were tense and your chest was filled with anxiety for the coming days, but when Brienne entered, the both of you having agreed to stay in the same room, your demeanor changed. Your heart rate seemed to slow, your breathing evening out, and every problem on your mind seemed to vanish. 

“I spoke to the captain,” she said as she began to unlace her armor. “We should be docking in two days.”

You found it hard to not stare at her–those perfect curves, the long legs, and–

“Your Highness?” 

You were brought out of your trace, “Sorry…Erm…alright. Thank you.” You turned your attention back to your book but looked up once again. “Oh, and, Brienne…please, call me Y/N.”

Watching as the ship sailed on the open ocean, Brienne looked to her right. There you were, doing the exact same thing. Watching. Waiting. Only your waiting was for a future you never wanted. 

Guilt raked her mind. How could she have feelings for a woman–a princess–that she swore to protect? And how could she protect this woman when she was being shipped off to marry a man she had only just met? The honorable side of her, the one that valued her status as a patron and abettor, the one that was all work and no play, told her not to do it. 

Don’t tell her. You’ll only regret it.

But the other side, the one that was carefree, the one that wanted to seize the moment in the grasp of her hand, the one that wanted to hold this woman tight in her arms at night, told her the opposite.

When you get off this ship, it’s over. She’ll be ushered off to another palace. You’ll never be able to voice your feelings.

It tore Brienne apart.

In the cabin below deck, you ate dinner in the quiet company of each other–nothing felt more right than this moment.

“It’s true,” Brienne laughed. “My father was so butt-hurt after it.”

You took a sip of wine, trying not to spill it from laughing at Brienne’s stories. “His poor self was beaten by his thirteen-year-old daughter in a sword fight. Any man of high ranking would be hurt over that.”

Brienne smiled softly as she cleaned up both of your plates. “He was definitely peeved, but he told me he was proud.”

An hour more of conversation passed before it fell silent. Brienne looked at you, her eyes giving away that she was deciding between something. Moments later, she decided. “Your Highness, I hope…I hope you don’t think me imprudent, but…”

Your hand reached across the table to take hers, smiling fondly. “Brienne, how many times will I have to ask you to not call me ‘Your Highness’? We’ve become too close for those formalities now.”

A light blush formed on Brienne’s cheeks and she hoped desperately that you wouldn’t be able to notice. “Erm…Your–” She paused. “–Y/N…You don’t want to get married, do you?” You stared blankly at her before your face changed–sorrow, dread? Brienne couldn’t tell. “I know I shouldn’t be saying this–it’s not my place. But, like you said, we’ve become close. I don’t think you should marry the prince. I only want you to be happy, and I don’t think you’ll b–”

“No,” you said. Your voice was low, and something in you flipped. “Of course I won’t be happy. I’m being forced to marry a man I don’t love, Brienne.” You stood from your chair and looked down at her, growing angry at the whole situation. “And it’s not like I can just run away! You tell me I won’t be happy? Of course I won’t be! I’d give everything to run away from this!” Tears were now choking your words and you didn’t even think before saying the next ones. “I would give everything to run away with you!” 

“What?” She was stunned. Had you truly just said that? 

“I’m–I’m sorry,” you muttered, hands clasped over your mouth. “I shouldn’t have said that.”

Brienne stood slowly, never breaking eye contact with you. She rounded the table and took your hands from your mouth. “No,” she whispered. “I’m glad you said it.” Her thumbs wiped away your tears and she smiled before kissing you lightly on the lips. “But now, it’s made everything more painful, my darling.”

You stood in your bedchamber, the room bustling with maids preparing for the wedding ceremony. That was it. You’d never see Brienne again. She was down in the village, staying at a boarding house and waiting to hear the wedding bells ring. 

With one last check from the maids, you were escorted to the sept. You waited behind closed doors, your heart pounding in your chest. You could do it. You could leave. But before you could make up your mind, the music in the hall was starting, and the doors were opening. 

You walked down the aisle, making sure the bouquet hid your trembling hands. The man you were to marry stood beside the Septon, his hands folded in front of him and his lips in a straight line. Guests stood in the pews, most of them having never met you before. If only Brienne were here. No. Perhaps it was a good thing she wasn’t here. It saved her the suffering of having to watch you be married off to a practical stranger.

Climbing the stairs, the man grabbed your hand to assist you–it felt nothing like Brienne’s. You flashed him a smile, mouthing a ‘thank you’ to him. The pair of you stood side-by-side, hand-in-hand, and the Septon began. 

As he spoke, your mind drifted elsewhere–to the night on the ship, to Brienne’s lips on yours, to her hands holding your body flush against hers in bed, to her fingers touching every part of you, to the words of ardor that you both spoke in the heated hours of the night. You couldn’t live without this woman.

You were drawn back into the moment by your name. “And do you, Y/N Y/L/N, take this man to be your wedded husband? Do you promise to love, obey, and worship him? For richer, for poorer? In sickness and in health?”

Your mouth opened, but no words escaped. Brienne. Her arms holding you close. Her light kisses across your bare skin. Her kindness. Her empathy. Her loyalty. Her capacity for love despite experiencing everything that she had. All you could think about was Brienne.

Your mouth opens again and you look between the Septon and the man who held your hand. “I–I…don’t.” Gasps could be heard around the room. “I’m sorry…I can’t..I…”

Not knowing what to say but knowing that, after this, nothing will be pretty, you dropped the bouquet of flowers, turned, and ran. Down the aisle, out of the Sept, running through the crowd that stood waiting outside, you didn’t stop. Your dress skirt was bunched up in your fists and onlookers watched in shock as you flew past in search of Brienne.

You finally made it to the boarding house she had told you she was staying in. 

“Morning, day, or night, I’ll be here for you.”

Bursting through the door, you go up to the counter, asking for her room number, and when he gives it to you, the keeper gives you a funny look as you hurry up the stairs. Without hesitation, you knock on the door, hoping and praying that she wasn’t out. When the door opened, you threw yourself around her neck, pressing your lips to hers.

Brienne pulled you in and shut the door. Between kisses, you sobbed out, “I couldn’t do it! I couldn’t leave you! I couldn’t!”

She kisses you hard and holds you in her arms, hand cradling your head. “I know…Everything will be okay. We’ll leave. We’ll go far away where they can’t get you. We’ll live, and we’ll be happy.”

Happy.

Nothing would be the same now. But, at the thought of being with Brienne for the rest of your days, any war would be worth fighting.

[dianneking]

10 Days of Gwen Goodbyes - Day 9 (Brienne of Tarth)

We've reached the second-to-last day of our 10 days of goodbyes, and these last two are among my favorites, I must admit. I hope you like today's upload as much as I liked writing it.

Summary: A love story between a lady and her guard, especially if that guard is another woman, is filled with obstacles and pain. Some are easier to get past, to elegantly steer clear of, but what will happen when the difficulties grow insurmountable?

TW: Drabble, Angst, Goodbyes, Break Up, Arranged Marriages, Dialogue-Only, Hurt No Comfort - Wordcount: 100 w - AO3 link in title below

Day 9: Brienne of Tarth - Look at Me

“The horse is ready, milady.”

“Brienne, I…”

“Your fiancé will be waiting.”

“I swear I didn’t know…”

“I am merely here to escort you to him. Milady.”

“Brienne, please.”

“I shall be waiting for you by the gates.”

“WON'T YOU JUST LOOK AT ME IN THE EYES!”

“…”

“I didn’t know! It was my father, he…”

“It is of no consequence milady. It was my mistake. I should have known my place.”

“Your place? Your place is by my side!”

“As your guard. Nothing more.”

“Brienne, I love you!”

“It is not me you are going to marry in ten days.”

Liked it? Here's the link to the previous one, as well as to the next one! And to the 10 Days of Gwen Goodbyes masterpost! And to my own masterlist of all my fanfictions!

[i-have-insane-that-i-am-paper]

Last letter for my love

A/n: So! I am back with Brienne angst :'). I'll be hiding in the mountains because I have a feeling few ppl will be coming for my head after this xD. Words: 291 Warning: angst Summary: Brienne sits alone on their fourth marriage anniversary and writes a letter to her love.

Will it always be like this?

Will I always cry myself to sleep, and imagine how it would be if you were still here?

How you would smile at me when I achieved somethings,

or how you would hold me as I cry over something trivial.

Maybe how you would proudly declare to the world who I am to you?

You know I still see glimpses of you in the street.

I could swear it was you, but...

Alas it was not.

It was someone who looked alike to you.

Had your beautiful eyes,

or that gorgeous smile.

Maybe that warm aura?

Just something that would jolt every sense in me and increase my yearning.

I wonder...

Will I count the days until my last breath just so I can see you again?

If that is the case, I hope it comes soon.

Could I dare to hope to see you in my dreams?

Just once.

I don't ask for much, right?

I want to hear your voice one more time,

feel your hug just for a second, and return it.

You know, one of those very strong ones. I give when I miss you?

You always complained how you couldn't breathe, but never let me ease it up.

You loved those hugs.

Damn...

It's been four years yet it feels like eternity...

I missed you so much...

I missed everything about you..

From the way your eyes crinkle when you smile to the way you spoke.

I miss you my dear.

But alas.

You would rather die on your feet than live on your knees.

Brienne wiped the tears that managed to escape some of them stained the paper. The last very letter she will ever write to her love.

[theswordmaiden]

Need someone to write an angst piece for Brienne using this song so badly… the thought has been plaguing me for weeks 😭🥲

[countrymusiclover]

22 - The Fire of a Best Friend

Part 23

The Last Velaryon

Tag list @rise-my-angel @cdragons @kmc1989 @starkleila

Arching my back I did my best to slow my breathing once Robb and I had finished our duty as husband and wife.  Laying underneath the thick furs I ran a hand through my messy hair watching him.  Robb rose from his lying position on the bed going over and began slipping his clothes back on.  He hadn’t said a word to me after he had come in and said we needed to perform our duty to one another.  Regardless I knew he wasn't happy with me, luckily he hadn’t found out about what me and his mother had done with Jaime yet.  Finally not being able to take the uncomfortable silence I spoke up. “Is this how we're going to be from now on? We share a bed like we have romantic attachment for one another but outside the tent you pretend as if everything is fine around your men.” 

“You seem to understand the plan quite clearly.  I don't see a need for us to discuss it any further.” He said bending down and began tying the strings of his boots. 

Moving my body more upright against the pillows I snapped back. “Robb, I don't want that kind of life with you.  I love you but not the way you are currently acting like.” 

“So I'm just supposed to act like everything is fine when my wife has lied to me.  When I had completely allowed myself to trust you from day one of meeting you.  I believed you weren’t a threat and now I can’t look at you without thinking about him.” 

“Then maybe I was a fool to think you ever loved me  at all.” I blurted out regretting my words that had come out of my mouth.  Robb looked over his shoulder, an instant hurt showing all over his face.  “Robb, I didn’t mean to say that.  I just-“ 

The tent flap opened revealing a guard who addressed us. “My king, my queen, the Frey woman are arriving.” 

“Thank you, Ser.  I’ll see you later.” Robb picked his sword up from the table without another word to me.  So I had no choice but to get dressed and go see the young girls I believed I could help find a husband they loved amongst our houses. 

A large carriage came riding down the road coming towards the edge of the camp.  The House Frey banners flapped in the wind until the carriage stopped in front of where I was standing.  The door was swung open by the driver revealing the five girls I would take under my wing.  Merry, who has  dark brown eyes and blonde hair.  Next standing beside her was Freya with hazel eyes, and blonde hair.  Shifting my gaze past the two ladies, the other two joining them was Marianne and Giana.  Marianne was born with light blue eyes, and long, dark curly hair while Giana has brown eyes and light brown hair that was in simple wavy curls.  “You’re grace.” All the young women gave me a curtsy after they had exited the carriage. 

“Before we go any further let’s get one thing straight.   While we are together you don’t have to address me as your grace or my queen.  I was never raised to find those tiles acceptable.  I’m simply Haelesa and all of you are simply high born ladies looking for some guidance from me that I am happy to provide.” 

Freya cleared her throat asking a question I didn’t expect. “Haelesa, the baby that you lost was it your husband’s?” 

“I think it’s best that I answer that at a later time.” 

Marianne tilted her head to the side. “Could you teach us how to ride horses?”

“Yes, that I can do.” I waved them all to follow me, ordering the guards to put all their belongings in the available tent we had prepared for them.  Regardless of Robb and I having some conflict at the moment I knew I needed to focus on making these girls prepared for the world and comfortable while living in our camp. 

Robb’s pov

“Have we heard anything from Lord Velaryon yet?” I asked my less bannermen that were standing around the war table with me.  We needed his men and ships if we were either going to take Casterly Rock or take King's Landing from the Lannister family and their bastard children. 

Lord Umber shook his head no in defeat. “Unfortunately no, my king.” 

“And why not?  I know I have sent out a Raven to his lordship.” 

Lord Karstark mumbled under his breath. “Maybe it’s because his daughter was already wed to the Kingslayer and he doesn’t recognize you as her husband.” 

“What was that, lord Karstark?” I spared a glance in his direction. 

He shakes his head lying. “Nothing, your grace.” 

“Alright then can someone explain to me why we haven’t heard any news from the seahorse household hmm?” 

Lord Hornwood ran a hand over his thick Northern beard. “We should assume he has other priorities, my king.  After all he is not a northerner.  These idiots in the south aren’t loyal to the other houses like we are.”

“And that is exactly what we should be trying to change.  Tywin and his entire family have too much power over the realm and that needs to end today, not tomorrow but today.  Otherwise what are we really fighting for if not for freedom for ourselves and the rest of the Seven kingdoms?” Leaning my palms on the table I shifted my gaze around the room to all my northern lords all staring at me. 

The tent flap got thrown opened causing everyone to turn their heads in that direction seeing Haelesa’s best friend Chezney who stood inside the doorway. “We need to talk now, Robb!” 

“He is your king, my lady.  Be careful with your words.” Lord Flint warned her. 

She glared at me, not caring what he just said. “I need to speak with you alone this instant.” 

“Watch your tongue, my lady!” Lord Flint takes a step towards her. 

Raising my hand I didn’t need a fight breaking out between the pair.  The lords left the room without another word simply bowing their heads at me until it was just the two of us in the room. “Leave us now.  What do you need to talk with me about, Chezney?” 

“You’re being an asshole to my best friend.” 

Blinking my eyes I almost couldn’t believe she had just said that to my face. “Woah, I don’t think you should say that to me.” 

“Oh I’m sorry, Lord Stark.   What I meant to call you is a cunt who has been treating my best friend like shit since the day she had her miscarriage when you should be there supporting her!” 

Hanging my mouth open I shook my head never hearing her beer speak to anyone like that before, especially me. “Chezney, are you expecting me to support her when she slept with another man when she was sleeping with the Kingslayer and never told me.  I find that to be the most insulting thing to my honor and my heart.” 

“This isn’t about your honor, Robb.  This is about my friend who gave her heart to you and you’re just throwing it all away.” Chezney crossed her arms over her chest. 

Running a hand through my messy curls I sighed. “My father was the most honorable man ever known.  He even brought home his bastard son and raised it as his own.” 

“Exactly and you treated him like he was your true born brother.  Why can’t you give Haelesa the same treatment?  If she wanted to be with Jaime she would have helped him escape and already ran off the second she found out she was pregnant.  But she didn’t because she only loves you.” 

Meeting her gaze I stared silently at her for a brief moment before asking my question. “What are you wanting me to do?”

“Stop treating her like a traitor and start treating her like a wife because I can see it on your face that you love her too.” 

Nodding my head in agreement I moved around the table to stand in front of her knowing that she was right and that she would do anything for her friend. “I’ll do my best.” 

“You’re grace, something has happened with the Kingslayer.” The tent flap got thrown opened where we shifted our gaze to him. 

“What happened?” 

The guard responded. “The kingslayer he escaped in the night.” 

“Did you know about this? Did she do this!” I glared at Chezney. 

She shook her head utterly confused. “No.  I know she’d never do something like this.” 

“How. How!” Turning my body fully around to face the guard I got up in his face needing to know who had helped him escape. 

The guard replied. “We spotted your lady mother returning from his cell this morning without her lady knight at her side.” Chezney watched me push my way past him stomping through the camp in search of my mother. 

[thebookbutterfly]

°•. BB’s Bookshelf .•°

An organised collection of fan fiction that I love and would recommend. A lot of hurt/comfort because it’s my favourite. I update this list regularly so keep an eye out for new stories. Feel free to browse and enjoy!

See what’s new here.

Take a look at my MASTERLIST here. :)

My requests are OPEN! So please contact me with your asks and ideas. I love hearing from you!

STRANGER THINGS:

🦋 Steve Harrington

🦋 Eddie Munson

🦋 Robin Buckley

🦋 Steddie

🦋 Billy Hargrove

CALL OF DUTY:

🦋 Simon ‘Ghost’ Riley

🦋 König

🦋 Task Force 141

GAME OF THRONES:

🦋 Sandor Clegane

🦋 Tyrion Lannister

🦋 Brienne of Tarth

THE LAST OF US:

🦋 Joel Miller

THE MANDALORIAN:

🦋 Din Djarin

NARCOS:

🦋 Javier Peña

SUPERNATURAL:

🦋 Sam Winchester

🦋 Dean Winchester

🦋 Castiel

JOHN WICK:

🦋 John Wick

RED DEAD REDEMPTION:

🦋 Arthur Morgan

🦋 John Marston

BALDUR'S GATE 3:

🦋 Astarion Ancunín

🦋 Halsin Silverbough

🦋 Gale Dekarios

🦋 Wyll Ravengard

🦋 Karlach Cliffgate

THE WALKING DEAD:

🦋 Daryl Dixon

LOVE AND DEEPSPACE:

🦋 Sylus

🦋 Zayne

🦋 Xavier

🦋 Rafayel

[dianneking]

If you want your heart to be completely wrenched out of your chest, stomped upon, put back together and then placed back where it belongs, go on, read this fic.

It's heartbreakingly beautiful and you should go leave an unhinged comment on AO3 because the author deserves the recognition.

THE LAST BRIENNE FIC WAS SOOOOO GOOD!!! Perfecto! Was wondering if you could do one where she actually breaks up with the reader for sad angsty insecure reasons and there’s a lot of heavy angst but maybe someone else tries to take advantage of the situation and woo reader and triggers brienne and they get back together againnnn

A/N: oh lord has it really been 2 months since I received this request? I ~deeply~ apologize, I hope you still see this and I hope you enjoy <3 Not sure how heavy the angst actually ended up getting but I hope it's alright regardless. Brienne requests always bring me an immense amount of joy ✨ and thank you, I'm glad you enjoyed the last Brienne fic <3

What You Had, What You Lost

Brienne of Tarth x f!reader

Words: ~4.6k | ao3 link in title

Content/warnings: angst, breakups, mentions of alcohol, hurt/comfort

It’s for the best really. That’s what Brienne tried to tell herself, at least. You’d be better off without her. After all, she could see the worry in your eyes before she would go off to battle. She could hear the fear in your voice when you’d told her to please come home. And as nice as it felt to come home to someone (to come home to you), Brienne was anything but selfish - you had a whole life ahead of you, and she refused be the reason you’d give it all up; she refused to be the reason you’d spend your days sitting at home, waiting for her to return; refused to be the reason you’d miss out on having a family, on bearing children; refused to be the reason people would sneer at you - for being with Brienne the Beauty.

And, maybe, Brienne was shielding herself from the inevitable heartbreak when you would finally figure all of this out yourself, when Brienne and the life she had found herself thrust into finally became too much for you. But, really, she was doing you a favor. It was for your own good, she told herself.

Her heart felt like lead and her stomach felt hollow when she came home from training that day. You had cooked something, and it smelled heavenly, and her heart sank just a bit further when you whirled around to greet her, grinning up at her the way you always did when she came home. She did her best to smile back at you, she really did - but when you frowned and asked what was the matter, she realized she’d been unsuccessful. “I’m just tired,” she said (she wasn’t ready to tell you yet, she wanted to commit your smile to memory first). 

“It’s alright, my love,” you replied tenderly, reaching up to caress her cheek and smiling warmly, your eyes crinkling at the outer corners and your faint laugh lines deepening. It took every ounce of strength that Brienne possessed not to cry in that moment, to quirk her lips upwards into something resembling a smile. She was almost certain you could see right through her facade - you knew her better than anyone - but you must’ve chalked it up to her being tired (like she’d told you), because your eyes filled with understanding and kindness and you stroked her jaw lovingly with your thumb.

Brienne’s heart cracked a little more as you began to set the table, and even more when you shooed her away as she tried to help - “please, Bri, you’re tired, sit. I can handle this.” You believed her, you always did. It was one of the pillars of your relationship - Brienne was always honest with you, and you were always honest with Brienne. If Brienne told you she was tired, then you knew it to be true. 

It was for your own good.

At dinner, you did most of the talking. Brienne simply listened, trying to commit the sound of your voice to memory, storing away every little chuckle, every time you would say her name or call her “love”. When you noticed she was barely eating, simply pushing the food around her plate, worry filled your eyes and you reached over the small table to squeeze her hand - the gentle brush of your skin on hers only working to deepen the pit in her stomach.

“Brienne, are you certain you’re alright?” Your voice was so soft and gentle that it made Brienne nauseous. She had to get this over with, before she broke down completely. It was for your own good. If she told herself this enough, she might believe it.

She took a deep breath, training her eyes on her plate. “Y/N, I have to tell you something.”

“Anything,” you replied earnestly, your tone still patient and kind, as if you didn’t suspect a single thing. Your thumb was tracing soothing circles over the back of her hand.

“I- we can no longer be… together.”

It was as though all the air had been sucked out of the room. The silence was deafening, a high-pitched ringing beginning to invade Brienne’s eardrums. Her gaze flitted to your face, watching the color slowly drain from it - she couldn’t stand it, she had to look away again. She felt you retract your hand from hers and found herself immediately yearning for the warmth of your touch again.

“I… I don’t understand.” Your voice was shaky now, and when Brienne chanced another glance at your face, she could see your brows furrowed in confusion, your eyes glistening with tears yet to be shed. Her heart dropped and she felt bile rising in her throat. Her first instinct was to wrap her strong arms around you and kiss away the crease between your brow - to litter your face with tiny pecks of her lips until your tears had made their retreat and laughter was bubbling out of your chest. But she couldn’t very well do that now - she was the one breaking up with you, and if she wasn’t your girlfriend anymore then, well, it wouldn’t be her place to kiss you or comfort you any longer.

So she put on her mask, the one she used when she needed to be strong, when she was training and commanding her men - it was the only way she’d be able to keep her voice even enough to say what she needed to say, the only way she’d be able to stay steadfast in her decision. It was for your own good, she reminded herself, swallowing thickly.

“This isn’t working for me any longer. I have to focus on my duties as Lord Commander, I cannot afford any distractions.” You see, Brienne knew you would try to argue if she told you the real reasons she was breaking up with you. She didn’t think you would accept those so easily. But her duties as Lord Commander were something she was sure you wouldn’t be able to argue against.

The silence stretched on uncomfortably long, hurt flitting across your face as your tears finally spilled over, leaving pale tracks down your cheeks. Brienne’s fingers twitched as she fought the reflex to wipe them away.

“Is that what I am to you?” you whispered, your voice watery and thick - Brienne had never heard you so upset before, and her heart ached knowing she was the cause of your pain. “A distraction?”

Brienne felt her lip twitch as all her organs seemingly clenched together in pain. Of course not! she wanted to scream. You’re the love of my fucking life and the reason my world keeps turning! I just cannot hold you back any longer! 

“I should go,” she muttered instead, pushing her chair back as she stood and turning to leave.

“Brienne!” She heard your chair scrape across the floor, your voice rising in desperation. “We’re not done here! You can’t just leave.” 

“I’ll have Podrick pick up my things tomorrow.” Brienne kept her voice level as she walked towards the door. 

“Please, darling, I love you,” you sobbed, and Brienne paused for a moment with her hand on the doorknob. She could hear your footsteps coming closer, could see you out of the corner of her eye as you reached out for her - she opened the door and stepped through it, closing it firmly behind her. 

When Brienne showed up at Podrick’s door that night, he didn’t ask any questions. He knew her well enough to know there was only one thing that could be causing her face to contort in pure anguish. He even pretended not to hear her sobs as she cried herself to sleep, and he didn’t comment on the bags under her eyes the next morning - for that, Brienne was grateful.

She realized, with a heavy heart as sleep evaded her that night, that she hadn’t even had the chance to kiss you one last time - she was already forgetting how it felt to have your lips on hers. That was the thought that sent her over the edge, tears flowing freely down her face and staining her pillow.

It was for your own good. 

~~~

“I cannot afford any distractions.”

A distraction.

Brienne’s lip had twitched. That was the only tiny little sign you could cling to that Brienne may have been bluffing. That she may not have fully meant what she’d said. 

But she’d left. She hadn��t even looked back.

“I will love you until all the stars fall from the sky,” she’d told you once. “Your love makes me feel like the luckiest woman alive.” 

Was this before or after she’d decided you were simply a nuisance, getting in the way of her duties?

You cried yourself to sleep that night, of course you did - you didn’t even have the heart to clear off the dinner table. When a knock sounded on the door the following morning and you’d rushed out to answer it, your heart had clenched when you’d seen the two plates, the two goblets - proof that Brienne had been there just the evening before, that you’d shared a dinner after work as if nothing was wrong.

You clung onto every bit of hope that you could muster up that it would be Brienne at the door, taking everything back. Your stomach twisted when, instead of the tall, blonde knight, a decidedly shorter man with a dark mop of hair and a round face greeted you. 

So she’d sent Podrick, just like she’d said.

You let him into your home, silently, watching as he moved nervously about the space, gathering weapons and armor and clothing - only the necessary things, nothing of sentimental value - and purposely avoiding your gaze.

When he was finished some ten minutes later, he stopped by the front door and, finally, looked you in the eyes.

“I’m sorry,” he said, kindly and with a sad smile.

You simply slammed the door in his face. This made you feel even worse - you’d always liked Podrick, and it’s not like any of this was his fault. But you were in no mood for pleasantries or pity, particularly not when Brienne was apparently too cowardly to face you.

~~~

One week. One week spent wallowing in your home, barely leaving - barely leaving the bed, for that matter. One week until you decided you had to get out and do something. Brienne had not called on you, she hadn’t once showed up or asked someone to check on you. 

A distraction. Maybe that’s really all you’d been.

You’d been meaning to get a new dress fitted for some time. The seamstress in town had always been kind to you, always chatty and empathetic. Perhaps it was time you paid her a visit - perhaps she could even be a shoulder to lean on, someone to support you.

You appraised yourself in the little mirror in your bedroom. You’d certainly seen better days - your cheeks were puffy, your eyes rubbed raw from wiping away tears, your chest was splotchy and red. After taming your tangled hair into something resembling a hairstyle and changing into something other than your nightgown, you made your way into town, with the gown that needed altering folded carefully in your bag.

The little bell above the door to the shop jingled as you entered.

“Be right with ya!” called a muffled voice from one of the rooms in the back. Moments later, a petite woman scurried into view, her face nearly completely obscured by the armful of fabric she was carrying. She quickly dropped the fabric onto a nearby armchair and wiped her palms on her dress.

“Y/N, so good to see you,” Meera beamed, looking behind you as if searching for something, brow creasing. “Is the Lord Commander not with you today?”

“I’m afraid I’ll be coming alone from now on.” You offered her a wobbly smile, unable to stop your voice from trembling as you felt the familiar sting of oncoming tears.

“Oh.” Hazel eyes truly drank in your appearance for the first time, recognition dawning on Meera’s face. “Oh, come here, love.” She opened her arms to you and enveloped you in a tight hug. It felt decidedly different from the hug you really craved (Brienne’s) - Meera was much shorter, her hands smaller as they rested on your back, her grip lighter. But she was warm, and her voice was comforting as she cooed into your ear, and so you hugged her back and let out all the tears you couldn’t bear to hold in.

The alterations of your dress were quickly deemed second priority as Meera flitted about her shop to make you a cup of tea and ushered you to please, sit and make yourself at home. She sidled up next to you then, listening intently as you spilled your heart out about Brienne.

“The Lord Commander is a damned fool,” she muttered, scowling. “How anyone could let a pretty lady like you go is beyond me.”

Her serious tone drew a giggle out of your throat, your cheeks turning rosy. 

“Couldn’t have been me,” Meera said resolutely, shrugging and smiling kindly at you - you couldn’t help but smile back.

~~~

Brienne trudged wearily towards the training grounds, unable to stop her mind from wandering as she had nothing to occupy herself with. The expression on Podrick’s face when he’d come back with arms and bags full of her belongings had filled her with such a burning sense of shame - the sad frown, the raised eyebrow as he’d simply asked her what she’d done. She hadn’t answered him - if she’d so much as opened her mouth she might’ve vomited on the spot.

The days (or had it been weeks now?) were blurring together for Brienne - she wasn’t sure how much more she could take. Every morning she awoke without your warmth curling into her, every evening she fell asleep without first stealing a soft kiss - your absence had left a gaping hole in Brienne’s chest that she was certain she would never be able to fill. And it was all her own fault.

As she strode across the training grounds, she walked past a group of her men, all huddled up. One of them immediately began snickering as she passed by, causing her to come to a halt and cock her head towards him.

“Can I help you?” she grit out, hand coming to rest on the pommel of her sword.

The man’s friends recoiled, averting their eyes, but he himself was a little naive and a little bold, so he squared his shoulders and replied, condescension lacing his tone. “It’s talk of the town that the Lord Commander’s little girlfriend found herself someone new.”

Brienne felt her blood begin to boil. “Pardon?” she hissed, her knuckles turning white as they tightened around the hilt of her sword.

“Must’ve gotten bored of being the Lord Commander’s little wh-”

Brienne let out a fierce grunt, baring her teeth as her sword flashed in the sun, coming to rest under the man’s chin. The blade pressed into his flesh, drawing the tiniest bit of blood, and his eyes widened in fear - though his shit-eating grin never slipped from his face.

“Another word and I’ll have you cast out of King’s Landing,” Brienne growled. “Am I understood?”

There was a beat of silence. The man’s eyes flitted from Brienne’s face, red with anger, to the perfectly polished blade of Valyrian steel. Finally, he nodded his assent.

“Of course, Lord Commander.”

Brienne’s nostrils flared at his smirk, her heart thundering wildly in her chest. Eventually, she withdrew her sword and took a step back. “Get out of my sight.”

The small group all but dragged their friend away, leaving Brienne to stand alone in the middle of the training grounds, white-hot rage radiating off of her in waves. Rage and… confusion? Had you really moved on so quickly? Was she the last to know you’d found someone new?

She shouldn’t be upset with you for that. That’s what she’d wanted, wasn’t it? For you to find happiness with someone who wouldn’t hold you back.

It was for your own good, after all.

~~~

Even as the days went by, Brienne found herself unable to get her mind off the rumors of you finding someone else. It was driving her absolutely mad with longing - anytime she allowed her mind to wander, it bombarded her with images of you in someone else’s arms. Always nameless, always faceless - but with wandering hands and lips pressed to your throat, bringing a blinding smile to your face that had once only been directed at Brienne.

So here she was, trying to keep herself busy, walking up to the seamstress’s little shop to get a tear in a pair of trousers stitched up. It was something you could’ve easily fixed for her - Brienne’s large fingers were a bit too clumsy, a bit too out of practice for the fine stitches that would’ve been necessary here. Brienne would have sat next to you, watching you patch up her trousers - it would’ve taken far longer than necessary, with Brienne distracting you every few minutes to steal a kiss. You would’ve swatted her away, playfully and with little force, laughing in that lighthearted way that was reserved only for her.

Brienne shook the thought from her head and swallowed the lump in her throat as she reached Meera’s shop - though what she saw through the window had her stopping dead in her tracks. Brienne’s heart twitched with yearning as she saw you, sitting on a stool in the corner of the shop - Meera standing behind you, draped over your shoulders and showing you something in a book. You looked tired, somehow unlike yourself, but all Brienne could focus on was the smile on your face - it was genuine. More than that, it was directed at Meera, who giggled and leaned in closer.

A wave of nausea washed over Brienne and her lungs began to constrict. She felt frozen in time, watching your sweet little interaction. This is what you wanted, she had to remind herself firmly. Meera was a kind woman, with a steady job - a job where the greatest danger was an accidental poke with a sewing needle. She had a good reputation in town, she was well-liked and respected. Still, Brienne couldn’t help the way her blood ran cold as the rumors she’d heard were confirmed.

It was too much. Brienne tore her eyes away from the two of you, turning swiftly on her heel and fleeing the scene, her heart pounding wildly in her chest and her eyes stinging with tears.

It was for your own good. She wasn’t sure when she’d start to really believe it.

~~~

That night Brienne found herself sitting in the dark corner of a tavern, nursing goblet after goblet of wine. She wasn’t one to get drunk on purpose, not usually, but all she wanted tonight was to forget. To forget all the images burned onto the backs of her eyelids - your tear-stained face as she’d left you, Podrick’s pity-filled gaze from across the breakfast table, the sneers of some townsfolk that only seemed to be getting worse, the smile on your face as Meera stood close to you.

But somehow, with every drop of alcohol, the onslaught of images became stronger, harder to ignore. More memories joined in, until Brienne’s head was a jumbled mess of thoughts that taunted her, snippets of her life with you - her life without you.

It was for your own good, it was-

To hell with it.

She had to see you. She would just stop by… just to see if you were really happy with Meera, if the seamstress was treating you well - and, if she was, well then Brienne would leave you alone for good. 

Brienne rose to her feet - too quickly, apparently, as she stumbled into the corner of the table. Maybe she was just a little more tipsy than she’d realized… She stepped out into the balmy night air and the world spun a little around her. Perhaps she should wait until morning, Brienne reasoned as she looked up at the inky black sky - it had to be at least midnight now, and she wasn’t sure how welcome she’d be, showing up drunk in the middle of the night. How welcome she’d be at all…

She was grateful that Podrick was already asleep when she snuck through the front door - she didn’t need his pity or his scrutiny. At least the alcohol was good for something - Brienne fell fast into a dreamless slumber, too exhausted to spend time ruminating.

Brienne held fast in her resolve the following morning - her feet carried her all the way to the home you’d formerly shared, her mind clouded with anger and despair in equal parts. When she knocked and didn’t receive a reply, she rounded the little house and stomped towards the garden, slowing her gait as she saw you sitting in the grass with your back to her.

With her heart pounding against her ribcage and her stomach fluttering anxiously, she took a few tentative steps towards you.

~~~

Gravel crunched behind you. You didn’t have to turn around - you would recognize those heavy footfalls anywhere - you’d spent years memorizing them, listening for them.

“You seem to have moved on quite quickly.” The question was so blunt that you couldn’t help but snort.

“I haven’t the faintest clue what you’re on about, Brienne. Or would you like for me to address you as Ser now? Perhaps Lord Commander?” You couldn’t keep the venom from dripping from your lips - you could feel all the hurt and longing and anger that had been simmering beneath the surface threatening to boil over, and you didn’t care to stop it.

“The seamstress.”

“Meera?” Your stomach flipped uncomfortably. You’d noticed that the woman had taken a liking to you, even going so far as to openly flirt with you. But truth be told, you didn’t see her that way - you simply needed someone to lean on when Brienne had abandoned you, and Meera was… well, there.

Brienne’s next question was so quiet you nearly missed it, lost in your thoughts as you were. “Does she make you happy?”

You laughed - it was a hollow laugh, laced with bitterness and tinged with disappointment. You twisted to look up at Brienne - she stood behind you, back ramrod straight, hands clasped in front of her. Her face was an impassive mask, or so she thought - you could see the weight of her emotions behind bright sapphire eyes, the twitch of her lips as she waited for your reply.

“Does it matter? You’re the one who broke up with me, why do you care who I talk to? But for your information, Ser, she has been a kind friend to me when I couldn’t bear to be alone.” You raised an eyebrow in challenge, and Brienne scoffed.

“A friend, yes. I can see that. Everyone can see that.”

“What are you insinuating?”

Your eyes flashed dangerously and Brienne remained silent, her gaze falling to the ground.

If this was all she came for, well, you were done here. You stood, smoothing your skirt and looked defiantly up at Brienne. “I hope now, with all distractions gone, you can focus better on your precious duties. Seems to be working out well for you. Good day, Ser.”

“Wait.” Long fingers circled your wrist in a strong grip, holding you in place and whirling you around. Stormy blue eyes met your own, Brienne’s face a whirlwind of emotions.

“You and Meera, you’re not…?” She cocked her head to the side in question. For the first time you could see the heartbreak written plain as day on her face, and, despite your anger, you felt your heart clench with longing.

“Do you really think I could forget you that easily?” you whispered, not trusting your voice not to betray you.

Brienne opened her mouth, then closed it again, her eyes flitting between your own. This was the first good look you’d gotten of her, and she looked exactly how you felt - hollow, exhausted, hurt.

“I didn’t mean it,” she whispered finally. 

“Didn’t mean what?” You felt your pulse pick up, your breathing shallow. You had to hear her say it.

“That you’re a distraction.” She spit the word out as if it were a dirty thing, and your stomach clenched. “You’re not. You’re the best thing that’s ever happened to me.”

“Then why did you say it?”

“Because I thought I was doing the right thing for us,” she snapped. She looked at you, her eyes pleading with you to understand. “Just because I chose this life for myself, doesn’t mean you have to.”

“What are you talking about, Brienne?” you snapped back, growing impatient.

“Don’t you want a family? Don’t you want to live your life without the fear that your partner could fall in battle any damned day?”

“And Meera can give me all of that?” You scoffed. “I have a right to choose what I want out of life, Brienne, you don’t get to make that choice for me. What’s really going on here?”

Brienne sighed. She seemed conflicted as her eyes darted between yours, her tongue coming out hesitantly to lick her lips. When she spoke, it was as if she was fighting to get every single word out. “I’m used to it, being sneered at and looked at as different - I don’t want to drag you into that. I don’t want my life to be too much for you.”

A heavy silence shrouded the pair of you like a veil. Of course it would all come back to Brienne’s insecurities. She was afraid of losing you, so she’d shut you out instead. 

“Brienne?” you said finally, tearing your wrist from her grip and taking a step towards her.

“Yes?” she breathed, leaning in as if drawn by some magnetic force. You could feel her breath, warm and ragged, on your face - her scent filled your nostrils now, a mixture of soap and sweat, somehow managing to calm you instantly.

“You are an idiot.”

Brienne’s brow creased and she frowned, but then you smiled and a lovely, scarlet blush began to creep up her cheeks. 

“I would rather spend the rest of my life waiting for you and worrying about you, than wondering what it would be like to have you at all. You’re my family Brienne. I don’t need more than that - I need you.”

*

Brienne surged forward, crashing her lips desperately into yours. A familiar warmth immediately flooded her chest as she allowed herself to get lost in you, tugging you closer by the waist. Your fingers threaded themselves into her short locks, like they always did, and Brienne breathed out a contented sigh as your tongue licked its way into her mouth. Oh, how she’d missed this.

“I love you,” she murmured between kisses, feeling you push yourself closer at those words. In that moment, nothing mattered except you and your lips - it was as if you were kissing for the very first time.

“Oh, and Bri?”

“Hmm?” “If you ever try something like that again, I swear I’ll strangle you with my bare hands.” Your smile was wide and Brienne’s laugh was loud and carefree, her heart swelling with joy. She knew it was not an empty threat - but she also knew she would spend the rest of her life guarding your heart with everything she had. Even from herself.

x

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[dianneking]

It’s not too late if we’re alive (Brienne/Reader)

A/N: It’s Day Two of May Trope Mayhem by @duckprintspress​ and I’ve never felt so inspired to write! Today’s prompt is War Setting so you get a WWII AU Brienne x Reader fic, because why not! (thanks to @weemssapphic​ for our historical AU talk, that made me buckle down and write). As always, link to AO3 in title below.

Disclaimer: I didn’t have the time to properly research this, so there might be historical inaccuracies on technical stuff like how war hospitals were organized etc. Disclaimer # 2: I seem physically unable to keep my fics under 1000w, blame the angst, not me.

Tags: War, WWII, Hospitals, Wounds  (not graphic), Talk of Death, Talk of Bombing, Smoking, Second-person Narrator, Angst, Breakups, Angst with a Happy Ending, No use of Y/N.

Fandom: Game of Thrones Pairing: Brienne of Tarth/Reader Wordcount: 1258w

It’s not too late if we’re alive

Any day that passed, you knew it could happen. You were at war after all. Day in and day out the battles raged, and humans fought against other humans, machines against other machines, metal ringing against metal, their screams loud in the smoke-filled air. 

They fell in troves. Some made it to you, others weren’t so lucky. And you knew that Brienne was there in the trenches, amongst her soldiers, leading them, the first woman to ever serve in the British Army, the first one to rise to the rank of officer.

Every time you woke up from your fitful slumber, every time a wounded soldier was brought in for treatment, you prayed not to recognize her on the stretcher, not to see her cornsilk hair matted with blood underneath the helmet. One day your prayers went unanswered.

“Chief Nurse! Hurry! It’s the lieutenant-general!”

After all this time, her figure was still so achingly familiar to you as the litter bearer brought her in, her long limbs limp on the stretcher, soot and blood marring the uniform she was so proud of.

Up until now you had managed to avoid her, only catching glimpses of her when she came to visit the wounded, but now here she was, bare inches away from you. She was still beautiful, even with the inevitable traces of time and war. It took all of your strength not to reach out and brush your fingers against the soft skin of her jaw. You shouldn’t.

After all, the last words you had exchanged had not been the friendly sort.

*

“Will you at least promise me you’ll come back?” you had asked. She had already donned her uniform, and the coarse wool scratched your palm as you put your hand on her elbow.

“You know I cannot promise you that.”

“But I love you.”

Her face had hardened, as it always did when you told her how you felt. You had told yourself that she was simply unused to being loved. But a dark voice within you was starting to ask whether it was because she was ashamed of you, or frustrated with your clinginess. Whatever the reason, she never said those words back.

“You shouldn’t say those things so lightly.”

“Just because you refuse to accept my feelings for you doesn’t mean that they are not real.”

“You are young, but you were never naïve. This was never something that could last.”

You had been young at the time, true. You had never experienced heartbreak before. Even the simple act of breathing sent searing pain through your chest. Your eyes had filled with tears, and your mouth with rage.

“Is that all it was to you? Just something to keep you entertained between wars?”

She had not dared to answer you. To this day, you still wondered why. Was it because it had been more for her as well and she didn’t want to lie to your face, or was it because she didn’t want to admit that she, Captain Brienne of Tarth, paradigm of righteousness, had used you for your affection just for as long as she had needed a warm body?

You had been young at the time, and first love is never easily forgotten. Even if unrequited.  

*

“Is God so unmerciful then?” The sudden sound of her voice in the silence of the officers tent almost made you drop the bandages you were carrying. You turned to her, wondering if she was growing delirious due to the high fevers she was running. But her eyes, wide and feverish though they were, were trained on you, with razor-sharp focus. “Have I not atoned for my past mistakes with my deeds? Why must He torture me with cruel visions?”

Oh.

She thought you were a fever dream, one sent to torture her. You pretended it didn’t hurt. It shouldn’t have, not as much as it did. Not even if she had been your first love.

Your only love, corrected a voice inside of you that sounded a lot like your younger self.

“Lieutenant-general, I am not a vision. I am merely the chief nurse. You should try to rest. You have been injured on the battlefield.”

“Is…is it truly you?”

“It is. But I am only here to treat your wounds, not to dig up the past.”

“How are you alive?”

“How is anyone alive these days? Luck, probably.”

“I thought you died in the Coventry bombing.”

“I’m sorry?”

“I sent you letters, and you never answered. I came over last year, but nobody could tell me anything about you. Our house was nothing but a pile of rubble. I thought…”

“Oh, is it our house now? I don’t recall you showing any particular attachment to it when you left.” She was surprised at your vitriol, you could see it in the way her deep blue eyes widened, and in the uncharacteristically hesitation in her answer.

“Darling, I-“

You suddenly felt ashamed of how easily her mere presence could drag out all of your pain, making you feel like that day on your doorstep, watching her walk away, her military boots crushing your heart with each step.

“There are no darlings here. It’s Chief Nurse if you need to address me. But right now, I don’t have time for idle chatter.”

You turned away from her, leaving her behind as she did to you so much time ago.

*

She found you some days later, as you were trying to enjoy the luxury of a short smoke break hidden behind the hospital barracks. She was still limping, but her skin had lost most of its sickly paleness, and she looked even more like the Brienne you used to know. The Brienne you used to love.

“How did you end up becoming a nurse?”

“I was told to do something useful with my life since I refused to marry. I did.”

“You…refused to marry?”

“Lieutenant-general, I hardly think…”

“Brienne. It’s Brienne to you. It’s always been.” You committed the mistake of looking up into her eyes, and instantly felt the irresistible pull they had on you. As if she had never left. You averted your gaze angrily and took a deep drag from the cigarette in your hands, trying to center yourself once again.

“What is your purpose here, Brienne?”

“I thought I had lost you, and I thought I would never be able to tell you. Seeing you here, alive, accomplished, breathtakingly beautiful, it…it felt like a second chance I never deserved to have.”

“Tell me what?”

“Not a day goes by that I don’t regret walking away from you. I’m sorry.”

The unexpectedness of the apology took you by surprise and you turned to her, only to find her much closer than you expected. The words you were thinking of saying died in your throat as you drowned in the maelstrom of feelings within her eyes. She hesitatingly reached a hand over to cup your cheek, as if afraid you’ll suddenly disappear, and her voice was low and broken with a heartache you instantly recognized. It was twin to your own.

 “I love you. I always have. I’m sorry I’m only telling you now. I know it’s too late.”

Her eyes swam with tears, and her face was suddenly getting closer and closer. You reached with a hand behind her neck and pulled her even closer, whispering against her lips, as if it was a secret meant only for her and her alone.

“It’s not too late if we’re alive.”

Liked it? You can find all of my fics on my fanfiction masterlist!

[i-have-insane-that-i-am-paper]

My dear darling

Summary: Brienne died in the field of battle. Her love writes her one more letter before she too passes on.

Warning: Angst, hurt no comfort

A/n: Here we go again with the angst... I know select few who will come for my head but oh well :)))

Sometimes I just miss how it was before...

I miss people I used to know.

Ironically I still see some of them on the streets, I recognise their faces even though years have passed since I last saw them.

They changed, but not enough for me to not recognise them.

Some look much more mature, with sharp cheekbones, beards, make-up, deep voices....

Some still have that child like face, soft jaw, and high pitched voice.

But my eyes recognises them and heart swells with memories.

And some are far out of my reach...

Like you.

I miss you so deeply.

I miss your smile and eyes that shared the colour of the sky.

I miss how you always knew what to say to offer me comfort,

how you protected me when no one else would.

You stood up for me, and spoke in my name.

You loved me with purest of the kinds of love.

You were my everything.

The heavens and earth and everything on them and beneath them.

You were my warmth in coldest of days,

my light in darkest of nights,

my eyes when I was blind,

my ears when I was deaf.

Yet you so easily went away.

One morning I just woke up and you were gone.

I thought it was a joke when I got the call saying you passed on...

Even today I cannot look at your grave.

Even today I do not wish to believe you are gone.

Even today after so many years.

I love you as I did on the day I met you.

See you on the other side my love.

Goodbye.

[bapplenana]

I will now happily pass away

Kisses Of Fire

Follow-up to Life Eternal

Pairing: Brienne of Tarth x Fem!Knight!Reader

Warnings: NSFW!! Major GoT spoilers, descriptions of violence & blood, angst, SMUTTY SMUT, oral sex, praise kink, semi-public sex, a tiny bit of angst again, fluff.

A/N: so as i was writing this i realized i totally made up my own timeline, oopsie, so i should clarify. the first two fics (enjoy the silence & life eternal) took place post the long night and pre the end. this fic catches up to that. this is (by my own opinion and admission) not my best work, but i've been working on it for so long and it's been approved for public reading, so, here it is. the finale. the end of our two beloved knights' love story. blah blah blah english is not my first language (obligatory warning). i hope the ending is satisfactory to all, enjoy!

big thanks to my dear bestie aron (@queerofalltrades) for reading through it and giving it the stamp of approval, and for helping me with the idea for this fic, without them, this fic wouldn't exist. and spouse heather (@pastanest) for helping me compact complicated GoT plot and for explaining more GoT customs to me.

It had been five months since that fateful night by the stables when your love had screamed after you with all her might with tears in her eyes. 

That had also been the last time she had communicated with you at all. 

You had sent her ravens, every Sunday for the past months, concluding your week, talking about your father's passing, and your mother. No message was ever sent back but your own, unopened and unread. Despite this you kept sending them, to keep your oath and to let her know you thought about her, every single day. 

In your messages to her, you often mentioned things you saw during your day that reminded you of her. Like the bright blue sky, equally as bright as her eyes and smile. The setting sun, just as beautiful and breathtaking as her. Any time you saw something dark blue, much reminding you of the unique armor she always donned. 

These small details were added for her to know that you hadn’t forgotten her and that she was always on your mind; had she read them, she would’ve been made aware of this fact. 

You couldn’t blame her for ignoring your messages. She was upset that you left, that you didn’t listen to her cries. That you had made her fall in love, and that you ripped her heart out of her chest. 

What you couldn’t understand, however, was her stubbornness, she knew you had no choice. In fact, she would’ve done the same had her father gotten ill, considering she’s his only heir. The only difference was she would’ve let you come with her; she would’ve begged you to. 

She would have hired you as her main bodyguard, as her master-at-arms, as Commander of her troops, she would have hired you as anything if it meant always having you at her side. Even as she ruled over Tarth. 

That was the difference between her and you, she had obligations and could not join you, even when she desperately wanted to, you, however, could join her. You weren’t sworn to anyone but your family, Brienne, and the Gods, there was work for knights everywhere, you could go wherever you wished. 

She went where her loyalties led her, and her loyalties always led her to the daughters of Lady Catelyn Stark. Despite the Lady’s murder at the red wedding years prior, the honorable blonde kept serving the daughters, because death did not release her from her vows. You admired her extreme loyalty and virtue, there weren’t many people like her left in the world you lived in, everyone was either greedy, monsters, liars, or all three. 

Your unopened scrolls started to pile up on your desk and you wondered how long she would keep this up. Your patience only lasted for so long and you couldn’t deny the pang of hurt that surged through you and your heart when yet another message was returned, unread. After a while, you started to wonder if she had even received your ravens at all. 

About one month after you had arrived at your family’s residence in Lemonwood, your father passed due to his illness, leaving you and your mother as the attendees of the family business. 

The four months that passed after that were spent keeping up the trade, meeting shipments at Planky Town as they came in from the Westerosi coast and the Free Cities of Essos, comforting your mother, and sending unrequited ravens to Brienne. 

To honor your duties as a knight, you offered your help to the Martell family, having history with them that went all the way back to your grandfather's childhood. The only living one of them called for you every now and then for advice, or just to help patrol around Sunspear. 

You were a familiar face for most, having spent a lot of time in the city growing up, and you recognized some people as well, stopping to have a chat with some; and others, you just gave a polite nod to considering where you knew them from. 

Brienne was a constant on your mind, even when you received the news one week after your arrival of Kings Landing crumbling, the deaths of Jaime and Cersei Lannister, and Jon Snow assassinating Daenerys Targaryen. 

A few weeks after the fall of the capital and the deaths, Prince Martell had to leave for unstated business in Kings Landing. He had asked you to look over things while he was away and you accepted, not inquiring what said business was about. 

He had returned about a week later and stated that Bran the Broken had taken the now melted Iron Throne and that The North had been established as an independent kingdom with Sansa as its ruler. The mention of her name brought forth memories of the last time you had spoken to her, recollections of Brienne, and eventually evocations of her by the stables. 

You had no news of your knight; you did not even know if she was alive. 

You desperately wanted to ask Prince Martell about Brienne. Just a simple, ‘My Lord, was there a tall blonde by Sansa Starks’ side?’ would have been adequate, but you hadn’t dared to verbalize the query in case the answer was no. If the answer was no, it meant that she was no longer alive, because your knight was always by the redhead's side as her sworn sword. 

Part of you hoped that if she had met her untimely death, you’d be notified; but had to come to terms with that there would be no reason for anyone to think of doing so. 

Around the same time of Prince Martell's return from Kings Landing, your raven returned, however, something was different this time. The bird carried both your scroll and another. You had hoped it was from Brienne, disappointment settled in when you saw that it wasn’t. 

The words on the Stark stationary were very few, only there to convey the brief piece of information necessary. Despite the lack of long and many sentences, the small amount was exactly what you needed to hear. 

“Brienne no longer resides in Winterfell. She has relocated to the White Sword Tower in Kings Landing. – Sansa Stark.”

She was alive. A flood of relief washed over you but was quickly replaced by sadness and confusion. She was alive but ignored your messages; and she was in the King's Guard, of course. 

You read the message again and detected that Brienne's and Sansa’s titles were missing in the message, meaning she had forsaken professionalism. This led you to the conclusion that she somehow knew about you and your knight's infatuation with each other. It gave you a sense of calmness, knowing that you would have been notified had she perished. 

It then broke your heart, realizing that the blonde couldn’t let go of her pride for one second to personally let you know of her relocating, she had to have someone else do it for her. You would have expected her to tell you so herself but apparently, that was too highly anticipated of you, so silly of you to think that she could be bothered to tell you personally, how unreasonable, how idiotic. 

There were whispers of a new Lord Commander, but no one knew who they were, only that the King's Guard now only consisted of two knights. You knew that Brienne was one of the members, considering her new residency but still had no idea who the Commander could be considering they had no distinguishing marks to tell them apart from the rest of the guard. 

So, until it was confirmed who had filled the position, it was unknown information and you made it a habit to spike your ears whenever you heard people mention ‘Lord Commander’ in conversation, hoping to learn what everyone was curious to know. 

——— 

Brienne’s life had been quite non-identical. She had spent the entire week after your departure mourning you. She noticed your absence in everything: her bed, her heart, breakfast, training, dinner, and the void was particularly draining after her patrols when your usual midnight meetings would occur. She had gotten used to your touch, now the only thing she felt was the cold hand of complete loneliness. 

During your stay, Brienne's squire, Podrick, had noticed the taller knight's infatuation with you and stayed away, giving you the space to speak uninhibitedly. You had not met him but had heard such wonderful stories of their adventures together. He instead lurked in the background, training with your love when you had split off during the day. 

With you gone, he had proven to be a comforting presence for Brienne, but the hole left inside of her was still gaping, a void that only you could seal. She trained him whenever she had free time, which was more often with you not there, and he grew stronger and stronger for each day that passed. 

Sometime after the Battle of Kings Landing, Brienne traveled to the Dragonpit to represent Tarth in the trial of Tyrion Lannister. From what she had been told by Sansa whose opinion she valued most amongst those present at the trial, Daenerys had gone against his advice, he had then denounced himself as her Hand, resulting in imprisonment for his defiance. 

Jon Snow, who Brienne had come to conclude was a good man after the time spent with him at Sansa's side, had then had a conversation with Tyrion within the cell he was held in, before murdering Daenerys.  

During the trial, Brienne sat and listened to Tyrion as he advised the gathered council to elect a new King to decide his fate. Expressing his reasoning, he suggested Brandon Stark. At this, the blonde knight assented, as did everyone else. 

Brandon Stark then met Sansa’s demand for the North to once again become its own sovereign kingdom, as it was for thousands of years.  

Tyrion’s punishment, as decided by King Bran, was to reclaim his position as Hand to the monarch and amend his previous mistakes in the same position, under previous rulers, for the rest of his life. Though the Lannister strongly opposed this idea, that only made the punishment more just, as, to him, it was not the reward that many would take the position to be. 

However, the minute Brienne had assented by saying ‘aye,’ she was ashamed to admit how little of her attention she devoted to the trial due to her mind being occupied by thoughts of you, but alas, that was her fate. She was well aware of the people around her and what decisions were made but she couldn’t have cared less. 

She had acknowledged your ravens, she just didn’t have the strength to open them, to read about your life without her. She knew she was being unreasonable, and she chastised herself for it. Despite how well aware she was of her unwarranted and irrational behavior, she ignored them, but you just kept sending them and it got harder and harder for Brienne to just leave the inviting scrolls; however, she knew it would only hurt her more to read about your Dorne adventures. 

In hindsight, however, those messages would’ve been something much more joy-inducing to have of yours, compared to the only thing she had in her possession. 

After the trial, Bran had approached Brienne, and offered her the position of Lord Commander in his Kings Guard, he was a very blunt man, the King, and she had been a bit surprised with just how candid he was. She had managed to hide her initial reaction and had humbly accepted his offer. Sworn the oath at the Stark’s request and stated that her squire is yet to be knighted and that she would do so with haste. 

Podrick was ready and had been for a while, but she was called to Kings Landing for the trial before she had the opportunity to knight him. This worked out in his favor however, considering being knighted by someone from the King's Guard and the Lord Commander of it, was seen as prestigious; and would earn him substantially more respect than if she would’ve knighted him when she was still a knight herself. 

The King had nodded at her declaration, “I will ask Sansa to have someone pack up and send your belongings here. Tell your squire to come see me as soon as he is a knight. In the meantime, I believe we have some measurements to get for your new armor.” 

“Your Grace, there is no need for that. I have no belongings in Winterfell I’d like to keep. I brought everything important with me.”  

“Are you sure, Lord Brienne?” 

“Yes, Sire.” 

“Very well. Now, come with me.” 

Podrick, who had followed Brienne from Winterfell to Kings Landing, had been approached by the taller knight the day after the trial. 

He had a puzzled expression on his face as he watched her and she knew he had a question to ask, she would have preferred if he had kept his mouth shut about it but had allowed him to ask it anyways; regretting it as soon as he spoke. 

“Lord Commander?” Hesitant in his tone, he had looked up apologetically at Brienne with the hope that she wouldn’t scold him for granting his inquisitiveness to take over. 

“Yes, Podrick?” She stared down at him and she could almost see the gears that had been turning in his head; looking for the most well-mannered way to phrase the words that followed. 

“I apologize for what I am about to ask but I am afraid curiosity has gotten the best of me. Whatever happened with the knight from Dorne?” She released a sigh, there it was. 

“I do not wish to speak of them, not because there is anger but because there’s too much pain.” Brienne had remained stoic in her answer and in her facial expressions, but her insides had been bleeding, almost like she had been impaled by a sword and left to die, bathing in a pool of her own blood. 

That was the first and only time she and Podrick ever spoke about your departure. The shorter man had opened his mouth to say something else but was quickly interjected by Brienne. “Come along Podrick. There’s something we need to do.” 

“Yes, My Lord.” 

As they walked through the ruins of Kings Landing, Brienne wondered if she should’ve been the one to send a raven to inform you of her move to another kingdom, but she hadn’t been able to bring herself to do so. 

She had instead asked Sansa if she would send one, to which she agreed. The redhead had seen the affection you held for each other and knew that there was more to your seemingly professional relationship. Brienne hadn’t known the reason for the Stark’s compliance but was grateful for it either way. 

All the memories that had been created in Winterfell were painful for Brienne and she found it almost relieving that she didn’t have to return, there was too much sadness there. She did not know when you would return to her, even if it had only been around one month since you had left, so leaving all the woeful memories behind was easier than she had thought. 

The happier ones were harder though, the memories in the courtyard, her room, the mess hall, the bathhouse, your room. The room where she had found the letter that changed everything. 

She had kept the note. It was now stained with dried tears, the paper damaged by the salty drops; ink smudged in various places. She kept it somewhere safe, out of sight from wandering eyes but close by. 

It was read every single night with tears in her eyes before she went to sleep, desperately trying to remember what your voice sounded like, to no avail. 

She had brought it with her to Kings Landing for the trial, not wanting to leave without it. Reading through your words had become routine, and it had gotten to the point where she could not sleep if she did not read your letter before bed. It was one of the first personal items to take its home in her new living quarters.  

Brienne and Podrick had walked in silence as he took in the crumbled kingdom. The fire had stopped but the damage was still apparent. Blackened remains of destroyed buildings and dried blood on the ground. 

The charred corpses had been moved the day before, given a proper burial in unmarked graves, at Tyrion’s request. To have it done within a day, the blue-eyed knight had assisted; her strong arms able to carry double the weight. 

It had been a grisly sight, and even Brienne, who had seen plenty of violence in her days, had felt a hint of nausea and sorrow go through her at the sight of the destruction. The smell hadn’t made it any better. 

The two had turned a corner and Brienne entered a large building that surprisingly hadn’t been affected by the attack, far enough away from the dragon's path of destruction. The room had been dimmed, rays of sun coming in from the small windows lining the walls; standing along it was Tyrion, his small form lurking in the darkness. 

The tall knight stopped abruptly in the middle of the room, Podrick had done the same a couple of feet behind her to avoid crashing into Brienne’s back. 

“Tyrion is here to bear witness. I told him that there was no need, but he insisted.” Her voice had been flat, stern. She had turned on her heels, faced him, and pulled out her sword from its sheath, the metal scraping against metal had echoed, the sound bouncing between the bare walls. 

“Kneel, Podrick Payne.” He had gotten down on one knee in front of Brienne, gazing up at her, and she had proceeded to lay her sword on his left shoulder, her eyes boring into his. “In the name of the Warrior, I charge you to be brave.” 

She had shifted the metal of her blade to his right shoulder, carefully placing it down, mindful of the sharpness of the sword's edge. “In the name of the Father, I charge you to be just.” 

She had switched shoulders again, the metal of the sword gliding in the air. “In the name of the Mother, I charge you to defend the innocent.” She placed her sword back into her scabbard before she had stated her last words, “Arise, Podrick Payne, a knight of the Six Kingdoms.” 

One month after your departure, Brienne had knighted Podrick. After this, she and Tyrion took him to see Bran, just as he had requested one day prior. The King had asked him to prove his fighting skills, suggesting he spar against his teacher, “Lord Brienne has trained you and I have no doubts in her skill, I am sure you are more than qualified. It is just a formality. I’m sure you understand, Ser Podrick.” 

“Of course, your Grace.” 

They had stepped out into a large somewhat empty clearing to give the two knights the space they required, and Podrick had proved his swordsmanship by fighting the blonde, King Bran being more than satisfied after seeing him hold his own against Brienne’s powerful blows. 

“That’s quite enough. I can tell Lord Brienne would floor you if we kept going and I need you both in prime health. Approach and kneel.” 

Podrick, who had read every book the word ‘knight’ was mentioned in and who had Brienne teach him everything she knew, had gotten down on one knee, and sworn the oath of the King's Guard, just like the tall woman had the day before. 

“I swear to ward the King with all my strength, and give my blood for his. I shall take no wife, hold on lands, father no children. I shall guard his secrets, obey his commands, ride at his side, and defend his name and honor.” 

“Arise.” 

With this, Podrick had been integrated into the King's Guard and Tyrion had taken him away for measurements. Brienne had asked Bran what she was to do until the resources for reparations arrived, and he had in turn told her to assess the damage done to the armory, and see if anything needed to be replaced. And to update the Book of Brothers: to complete Jaime’s entry, and add her own. She had done so with haste. 

Two weeks later, the supplies arrived in Kings Landing which was still in ruins. She, together with Tyrion, had met them at the Gate of the Gods, which was a large hole in a wall after the dragon attack, clad in her new shiny gold armor with extensive white enameling and a white cloak draped over her tall form. 

She had come to stand by Tyrion’s side to discuss something, but he had asked her to stay when she moved to leave his side, it was mostly so she could act as a waypoint, of sorts, for the convoy. It was also so he could analyze her up close. 

The small council had held a meeting and discussed what would come next, the reparations of the kingdom had been a unanimous agreement. They had wanted to rebuild the brothels first, but Brienne had quickly expressed her disapproval at the thought of prioritizing them over the rebuilds of the royal fleet, which clearly took precedence due to the lack of ships following the war. 

The four months that followed after the arrival of the supplies were filled with Brienne overlooking some of the construction whenever she didn’t have anything else to do and performing her Lord Commander duties; whatever they ended up being, they varied from larger decisions to smaller ones. 

Some days she just spent her hours in the armory, polishing and sharpening every sword; and some she spent in the White Sword Tower, either re-reading previous entries in the Book of Brothers or residing in her quarters. 

She was so busy with her new duties that she did not have the time to respond to your ravens, even if she could gather the emotional strength to do so. 

Five months after your separation, Bran had requested her attention, sending Tyrion to collect her. 

He had found her in the armory taking inventory of the same gear she had checked the day before. When asked, she told everyone it was to ‘make sure no one stole anything’ but it was really to keep her mind occupied with something other than you who plagued her mind day in and day out, even in her slumber. 

“The King wishes to speak with you, Lord Brienne.” Tyrion interrupted her almost obsessive counting, arriving when she had finished sharpening the last sword. He stood in the doorway as he watched her get up from the stool she was sitting on, put away the sword she was holding, and walk towards him. 

“Of course, Lord Hand. Lead the way.” 

The walk was quiet, for the most part. Brienne was content with the silence, Tyrion; not so much. 

“Forgive me for being informal, Lord Commander, but; what is the matter with you?” The question staggered Brienne, her entire being stalling for one second, too stunned to move, before she continued her prior movements, resuming her stroll by the shorter man's side. 

“Pardon?” She knew exactly what he was referring to. Her behavior had been strange, to say the least. Erratically counting and whetting, staring off into space, and getting lost in her own thoughts. Brienne had always been a bit unusual and turned in towards herself, but it had been even more so these last couple of months. 

“Brienne. I can promise you that no one is stealing weapons from the armory during the night in peacetime. The armory which, need I remind you, is locked up with you as the key holder. So, what the hell is your issue?” Tyrion had stopped right outside the building Bran was currently in, glaring up at Brienne with furrowed brows and caring eyes. 

“I-” she released an elongated sigh, “I do not wish to talk about it. What does the King need to speak to me about?” Switching the subject to the reason she was standing there with him in the first place, hoping to remove herself from the theme she wasn’t entirely comfortable conversing with Tyrion about. 

The shorter man let out a sigh, admitting defeat, knowing he wasn’t getting anything out of her. “I do not know. He did not tell me.”  

“Very well.” With this, Brienne pushed past the shorter man who was left standing in place, annoyed at the taller woman’s stubbornness, which seemed to be an ongoing theme nowadays. 

Her white cloak flowed behind her as she navigated her way through the corridors, her steps echoing in the empty hallways. 

“Lord Brienne!” Bran called her name as she entered the room he was residing in, stopping what he had been doing before she arrived, “I’m glad you’re here. I have something to ask of you.”  

The blonde knight quickly kneeled before him and he just as quickly ushered her up to her feet, claiming there was no need for such formalities. Brienne didn’t quite understand why but complied either way. “Sire, what can I do for you?” 

“I need you and Ser Podrick to escort a shipment from Planky Town. You will travel there by ship, collect the shipment, and bring it back. I’ve already spoken to Davos, and he has given you temporary command of one of his ships. It’s an incredibly rare material and I need my best men on it. I know it’s different from your usual duties but treat this mission the way you would any other.” 

The thought process that went through Brienne's head after Bran had started speaking was: Planky Town – Dorne – you. There was a hurricane of emotions whirling around inside of her that destroyed anything in its path, and as in every hurricane, the eye was quiet, which allowed her to process the whirlwind. 

She was ecstatic at the opportunity to finally visit Dorne, and maybe, if the Gods were good, cross paths with you. She was also guilty and terrified at the thought of meeting you again. Running into you after ignoring your messages for months would surely prove to be an unpleasant experience. You’d surely be angry, disappointed, and upset; all at her. But at least she would get to see you, even if it was with you staring daggers her way. 

Her mind was racing, running faster than it ever had and Brienne couldn’t keep up. Until a noise ripped her out of her thoughts, permitting her to catch up to her sprinting brain. The door behind her opened and closed, signaling that someone else had entered the room. This was when she realized she had been standing still and in silence for far too long, Bran looking at her with an unreadable expression as he waited for her response. 

“Yes. Of course, Your Grace. When do we depart?” Brienne remained as professional and stoic as usual, even when her mind was anything but. She had zoned out again, become lost in her own thoughts like a scared little girl getting lost in the woods with no way out. 

“Tomorrow at sunrise. Be at the docks by then.” 

“Yes. Anything else?” 

“No. You are dismissed, Lord Brienne.” After vocalizing the command, Bran looked away from the Lord Commander and went back to his previous activity. Whatever that was hadn’t been observed by the blue-eyed knight, and she simply couldn’t be bothered to find out. 

She bowed before taking her exit, passing Tyrion as she left the room. He looked at her warm-heartedly, giving her the smallest of smiles and a small nod which she didn’t reciprocate, a scowl painted on her lips. 

If she wasn’t so focused on keeping the hurricane inside of her in check, and on preventing any tells to leak out of her hardened exterior onto her face, she would have given him the same back. Instead, she just kept her mind set on maintaining a straight face. 

The second the heavy door closed behind her, she let the stone face fall, and an intrigued smile replaced her former frown. Her booted footsteps echoed in the barren hallways as she went back the way she came, her long white cloak floating behind her. 

“Dorne, huh?”  

——— 

You rolled up what must have been the twentieth message for Brienne, before strapping the scroll to your raven. It was a warm day in Lemonwood, as it was every day in Dorne, the Summer Sea waves hitting against the cliff side breaking the pleasant silence of the early Sunday morning. 

Your raven, Bartholomew (actually named Branoc by your parents, but you thought that was a little bit boring), was sent on its way and you sat at your desk, watching the bird as it flapped its coal-black wings, carrying yet another message for your love. 

The usual distant bustling noise of Planky Town had yet to begin, it was still too early but you and your mother had a shipment to meet. No rest for the traders. 

Your family had since your great-great-great grandfather been a part of a large trading company, landing you as one of the wealthier families in Westeros.  

The business had been passed through generations and now it had landed on your mother's lap. You were delighted to assist her for however long she needed you but the longing and yearning for Brienne’s touch was getting to be too much. You needed to get back to her. 

Sighing, you put your stationary, ink, and quill away, before rising from your seated position at your desk. The armor you had worn in Winterfell had been swapped out for a more heat friendly one. Specially crafted to allow breathing and protection, the Dornish colors decorate the leather gear. 

It rested on the stand in your room, the fur coat and cold-resistant steel armor gathering dust in one of your closets. You hadn’t laid eyes on either of the items since you disregarded them five months ago. 

The trip here had been a long one, riding along Kings Road before turning onto Rivers Road; before finally arriving in Lannisport just west of Riverrun. Once there, you were able to hop on one of your family’s trading ships, taking you back to Planky Town. 

The only comfortable way to Dorne when traveling from another kingdom, was by ship. The terrain and road through the Red Mountains were unforgiving and extremely hard to traverse and there was no way you were putting yourself through that. The ride through the barren desert after the mountains wasn’t all that inviting either. 

The difference in climate had hit you right away, the searing sun of Dorne not quite the same as the biting chill of The North. Your fur coat had been discarded soon after passing The Trident and turning onto the road that led you to your destination. It rained moderately in the Riverlands, therefore, you had to take it off to insure its dryness.  

When it started raining, like you had expected it to do, you had to take a break, seeking shelter under the protecting crowns of the trees. The fur coat proved quite useful as an extra blanket during the cool nights, and you pretended that it was the warm embrace of Brienne enveloping you instead of the cloak. 

After you had boarded the ship in Lannisport, you were able to take off your armor for the first time in days, letting the cool breeze of the sea wash over you. The familiar salty smell of the ocean reminding you of your childhood. 

The sound of knocking on your door pulled you out of your reminiscent state. Quickly pulling yourself to the present, you took large strides toward your door and opened it in a swift and controlled motion. 

You were met with the weary and tired eyes of your mother, she hadn’t slept well since the passing of your father, and you couldn’t blame her, neither had you. 

The sleeplessness was a combination of the grief from losing your father and the loss of Brienne's warmth. You had slept in her arms only once, but that singular time was enough to have your body aching for more affection from the tall blonde woman. 

Most of this you wrote about in your messages. The messages she couldn’t even be bothered to open because if she did, she would realize you missed her so. That you would leave as soon as you weren’t needed, and that you would return to her arms as fast as humanly possible. 

“Good morning, Mother.” Your voice was softer than usual, it always was around your mother nowadays, scared that any other tone would disrupt the mourning process she had begun. 

Her voice was weak, frail. Throat hoarse from crying, “Good morning. Just wanted to see if you were awake.” She did this every morning. Checking up on you. She did it when you were growing up and continued doing so when you returned. It was an even more comforting action this time around, serving as a reminder that you had each other to lean on. 

“I am, have you eaten?” Your mother's eating habits had been on the rocks lately, too busy with the business that she simply forgot to eat, sometimes she didn’t want to, her appetite gone. So, you asked her, every day, if she had eaten. Sometimes she said yes, sometimes she said no. 

“Yes. Have you?”  

You hummed in response to her question, “I ate when I woke up, I’m ready to go when you are. I’ll just need to gear up.” 

Your mother nodded, “I will wait for you in the carriage.” With this, she turned around and left. Making her descent down the carpet-clad stone stairs. 

After closing the door, you walked to your armor stand by your window that overlooked the Summer Sea and began removing each piece, attaching them to your form. 

As you put on your leather armor, you watched as ships of many different sizes sailed past your window, floating on the sea in the searing hot Dorne sun. The sun's rays invaded your room, casting it a beautiful golden glow, and warming your skin; the pleasant smell of the sea like a comforting blanket over you. 

Some of the sailing ships came from the west and some from the east. Some were sailing for trading companies, and some were sailing for travel. Their flags and sails fluttered in the warm air, hulls breaking through the water. 

Eventually, all the leather gear had been secured to your form, the last part had been your sword, and with everything in place, you abandoned your room; briskly walked down the same stairs your mother had, and stepped out into the warmth of the morning. 

Your mother stood by the carriage, conversing with the coachman. The sight of you approaching interrupted their conversation, the coachman opening the door to the roofed wheelhouse. Allowing your mother to enter and closing it once she had sat down inside. 

The carriage did not have any windows except for some small springs, meaning you didn’t have a good view of the scenery and environment around you. So, to make sure you were able to keep a look out for potential dangers, you sat up front with the coachman. 

You did not mind doing so however, he was a very interesting man with many stories to tell and you often enjoyed the chats you had with him. 

The ride to Planky Town wasn’t long, your ancestors chose to settle in Lemonwood for the short travel distance, taking into account that the port was a regular visit. 

On the way there you passed several travelers, and you recognized most of them as inhibitors of the other nearby settlements. You didn’t know any of them particularly well, only having met them a few times during formal events. Still being familiar with them and wanting to show civility; short pleasantries were exchanged before continuing your journey. 

It didn’t take long for the lively sound of the now awake port town to reach you, the familiar sight of the Greenblood river opening its mouth in front of you, running out into the vast sea. 

As every Sunday, it was reserved for shipment collection, meaning it wouldn’t be as busy as it usually was the rest of the weekdays. Despite this, there was still a large number of people going about their business of resupplying or trading. 

The coachman stopped your carriage a distance away from the docks as he usually did to prevent blocking the road. He stepped off to open the door for your mother, who had stayed silent during the ride as she usually did. 

You stepped off after him, watching your mother exit the wheelhouse, and walked up to her side, hand on the hilt of your sword and back straight. You were here as a traders’ child, yes, but you were also a knight. 

It wasn’t often that you were asked to make your rounds down here, yet on rare occasions you were. Even when you weren’t here on such business you still wanted to keep up appearances, you knew Brienne would. 

Shooting your coachman a nod and a smile, you linked your mothers' arm with your own and started trekking toward the docked ships. “Is it the usual today?” Wanting to make conversation, you asked your mother something that would pull her out of the damaging mindset she had surely found herself in. 

“Yes. Meet the shipment, and see that everything is as it should, some is unloaded here to be sold, rest is shipped to other port towns to be distributed by our partners.” It was like clockwork by now, and you knew it by heart, your mother knew that you did and found it kind of you to ask. She knew why you did and appreciated the distraction from her thoughts. 

A quick hum was all you gave in response, your steps taking you closer to the harbor until you reached the docked trader ship. Letting go of your mother's arm you turned to look at her, “I will stay on land and take a look around. Wait here until I come back.” 

She gave a quick nod before she stepped onto the wooden vessel, you saw your mother meet the captain and he in turn gave her the inventory list for her to check off. You began turning on your heel to walk away but before you could, something caught your eye. A ship from the royal fleet. 

It hadn’t been the ship in itself that stopped you, it had been the person you saw on board it. You had seen her faster than you cared to admit, almost like your eyes had been searching for her. 

She was standing as robust as she had done the first time you saw her when you first arrived in Winterfell. Her hands behind her back, the wind blowing through her short blonde curls; the white fabric that draped down her figure danced in the Summer Sea wind. 

She stood on the quarter deck, donned in her gold-white armor that reflected the sunlight, she looked so handsome in it, so at home. She was a White Sword, this you were aware of, but you were still nonplussed to see it, to have it verified. 

You were so used to seeing her in her dark armor. The dark armor that she had worn during the duration of your stay, the armor that you had begun to associate with her. Seeing her in anything else but, was an abnormal sight. 

As the ship inched closer and closer to the docks, you saw that there was detailing on her chest piece, a raven. Fitting for the three-eyed ravens' Kings Guard. 

From what you could percept, Oathkeeper still sat loyally at her side, and you wondered how she had taken the news of Ser Jaime's death. You knew that they had been... relatively close, she had described their relationship as ‘an unexpected companionship,’ which was really her fancy (and courteous) way of saying ‘it was a war, he was an extra sword, we spent time together because we had to.’ 

Truth was, Brienne didn’t take the announcement of his passing that hard. Still too focused on the loss of you. In her mind, she had tolerated Jaime, not seeing him as a close friend, and therefore did not feel the need to mourn him. 

The grief from your departure was still a fresh wound in her heart and even if she did feel the need to shed tears for him, it would be too overwhelming to do so for two people at the same time, and she refused to put you aside to lament Jaime Lannister who meant so little to her. So, it was an easy choice for her. You took precedence over everything else. 

You were frozen in place, watching her as she stood tall and proud. Anger bubbled up inside of your chest, along with sadness and betrayal. Yet at the same time, you were so gleeful to see her again after such a long time, and even though you wanted nothing more than to run into her embrace; the fact that she hadn’t responded to your ravens in months stood true. 

You didn’t want to see her, and you did not want to speak with her. With the feelings running amuck inside of you, you feared that if put face to face with her you’d say some things that you couldn’t take back. Hurting her even more than you had already done; ruining any chances of ever reconciliating and returning to each other's arms. For now, the best choice was to leave and blend in with the crowd before she could spot you, but it was too late. 

The second her ship had docked, and she had stepped onto land, she had seen you. Her intense blue eyes locked on to yours and the moment they did, they flashed with what looked like regret and guilt. 

It was too much to handle, the same blue irises that kept you up at night, that haunted your dreams, were now staring at you in such a way that made your heart twist inside of your chest. 

Her mouth was hanging open the tiniest bit, eyebrows furrowed. She was surprised to see you. If there weren’t so many thoughts swirling around in your head, you were sure that you would match her expression, shocked to see her down here. Shocked to see her at all. 

Your head was a battle arena, your thoughts fighting, trying to bring you back to your senses, to help you make a decision, and fast. The one who ended up coming on top was the one for before, the one telling you to leave; the one telling you to run to her getting left in the mud. 

You started to walk towards the crowd, planning to disappear in the swirl of people but Brienne was taller than most people there and was able to periscope over everyone, meaning you and your Dornish leather armor stood out like a beacon on a dark night. 

She started to follow you, Podrick trailing behind her trying to keep up with her broad strides. The continuous stream of people helped with keeping a distance between the three of you, but there were only so many traders and merchants, and you eventually reached a clearing, close to where your carriage was parked. 

There was no hiding from her now. 

The familiar voice of Brienne called your name, shivers running down your spine at hearing it for the first time in five months. You had forgotten what she sounded like, just how beautiful and deep her voice was, how the accent compliments it in the most fantastic way, working in harmony to make everything she said sound like poetry. 

“Stop!” you didn’t obey her command, instead, you kept moving forward. Her steps picked up, her long legs faster than yours, and before you could process her closing in on you, her hand grabbed your wrist, pulling at it slightly causing you to abruptly stop, and turn around. 

Suddenly, the only thing in your vision was her piercing eyes as they searched your face for any sign of forgiveness, love, or adoration; only finding the same stone-cold expression you had worn when your eyes met minutes ago. 

She had hoped that her proximity and touch would bring back the soft expression you used to have for her. It did not. Instead, you rejected her touch. Ripping your wrist away from her grasp, almost aggressively so, almost like her touch was hot coal burning you through your protective leather gear. 

She gazed down at you, a silent plea behind them for you to speak to her, to say anything. Just wanting to hear your voice. You in return stared up defiantly at her, displaying your anger by taking a step back, distancing yourself from her. She took this as a confirmation that you had become repulsed by her, just like everyone else; her weakness and pure selfishness had caused you to despise her. 

In truth, the moment she had gotten close, the all too addicting scent of her had invaded your senses, making it so much harder to stay focused. The step back was to display anger, yes, but also to step away from the inebriation that was the smell of Brienne. 

“Ser Brienne.” You spoke stiffly, your face full of indifference. She remained neutral, but to you, she was an open book. The way you said her name hadn’t gone unnoticed by the blonde, and you saw the flash of hurt in her eyes when you said her name. The usual affection you held for her wasn’t there anymore, and she completely understood why. 

She opened her mouth to say something, getting interrupted by Podrick before she could, “It’s actually Lord Commander-” Brienne held up a hand, successfully interrupting him back, but not before you heard her new title. Lord Commander, huh? 

“Ser Podrick! Do you not recognize them?” So, this was the Podrick you had heard so much about. He was shorter than you expected him to be, but maybe that was because he stood next to one of the tallest people in Westeros; she made anyone look short. 

She had broken your eye contact to stare at the younger knight with her usual glare. He looked at you once again, observing you. The second it clicked; his mouth fell open in a silent ‘oh.’ He cleared his throat before mumbling a silent apology to both you and Brienne. 

“Go and wait for the shipment. Leave us.” The Lord Commanders' voice was harsh, leaving no room for objections. 

“Yes, My Lord.” He rushed off, leaving you and Brienne alone. She turned her head back to yours the instant Podrick disappeared out of sight into the flow of people. 

“Lord Commander?” The voice that exited your mouth was incredulous. You couldn’t believe your ears. She had been appointed the highest position in the King's Guard and secured a spot on the King's Council, and you hadn’t been informed. The love of your life hadn’t told you of a major update in her life. 

“Yes.”  

“You were appointed Lord Commander of the King's Guard and I find out today. How long?” You almost did not want to ask. Not wanting to know how long she had been keeping this from you. 

You hoped she would say 'a couple of weeks’ or ‘about a month’ because then you would understand the lack of communication. You were understanding of the task of taking on a new title and the job that came with it. If she was in the beginning phases, you would have understood. Instead, you were greeted with the opposite. 

“About four months...” 

“Four months-! You are unbelievable, Lord Commander.” You spat her title back at her, there was such wretchedness in your voice, such wrath. What you had feared was just a couple words ahead, the fear that you would say something that would be irreversible. There was no closing the gates of Hell now. 

“Please just call me Brienne, like you used to.” Her voice had shifted into a gentler one, attempting to diffuse the situation. You scoffed at her. Was she really trying to ‘go back to the way it used to be’ after making no effort in communicating with you at all? 

“I don’t know if I want to refer to you as anything anymore.” There it was. The gates had been opened, and anything coming out after this was meant to hurt. Meant to drive a knife into her stomach and twist it. Disbelief spread through your being, so irritated at her for just assuming you’d forget everything that had happened. Both of which were perceivable in your tone. 

“Please, if you would just let me explain-” Desperation was evident in her voice, her entire face softening, her eyes imploring for you to please listen, to please forgive her. But you didn’t want to hear it. You didn’t want to hear her excuses; not before you had said your piece. 

“Explain what, huh? Explain how you couldn’t let go of your pride to send me something back? A simple ‘hello, it is I, Brienne of Tarth,’” you tried your best to copy her speaking voice, it falling short, “once a month would have sufficed because then I would have known that you were alive!”  

You took a breath before continuing, keeping your voice steady, tears threatening to well up. 

“Instead, I had to get that sign of life from Sansa! Do you understand how much that pained me? That you could not let go of your stubbornness for two seconds to let me know of your damn relocation to Kings Landing by yourself! Why?” Glaring up at her, you panted, eyebrows furrowed in frustration. 

“I couldn’t bring myself to read about your life without me…” Her voice was quiet, almost like she was ashamed to admit her reasons for not responding. At her admission, your wrath eased up. You weren’t furious at her anymore, but there was still the agonizing pain of being ignored by someone who you love so much, and whom you care for so. “I know, it was unreasonable, irrational, intolerant of me. I am aware.” 

She continued her explanation, “I really wanted to, read your messages, that is. Because I missed you terribly, and love you so, but it would have hurt too much. Then after I was appointed my new position and title I had so much to do, and I was so stressed, and I didn’t have the time to reply.” She was trying her best to stay strong, or at least for it to look like she was but she was moments away from a breakdown. 

You kept eye contact the entire time, seeing when tears were starting to form in her eyes, and you were suddenly extremely aware of how exposed you two were. “I’m sorry.” Her last words were a whisper, barely audible, voice breaking. 

She then broke eye contact, tilting her head down, fixing her gaze on the sandy ground. You glanced around you, seeing that your carriage was only a couple of feet away. It gave you the perfect escape plan. 

You took her by the hand, dragging her towards your carriage with a quick ‘come with me.’ The sudden, unexpected contact made Brienne’s head snap up, meeting the back of your head with her blurry vision. She needed privacy, you couldn’t let everyone see the Lord Commander break down in public, so you had to shelter her. It also provided you with a quieter place to speak. 

You asked the coachman to go make himself busy before ushering Brienne into the wheelhouse, you following suit, closing and locking the door behind you. Quickly covering all the springs in your immediate vision with its individual curtain. 

The second you sat down across from her, the dam broke. She buried her face in her hands as loud sobs wrecked through her, much like the ones you had heard by the stables as you rode away. 

Your anger and pain had quickly subsided when you had heard her entire reasoning, and when you saw how guilty she felt. There was no need to be mad at her, you didn’t think you could be anymore. 

Relieving yourself from your sword sheathe, you pondered, unsure if you should remain seated across from her, or if you should move to sit by her side. You couldn’t comfort her all those months ago, but you’d be damned if you didn’t do it now. 

Quickly maneuvering across the carriage, you took a seat next to Brienne, taking off her scabbard before throwing an arm around her shoulder and pulling her close to you, her becoming flush against your side. She hadn’t expected the abrupt intimacy, it was a welcome one, especially after feeling nothing for so many days. 

Her arms flew around your waist, her face burying itself into your leather-covered chest. Your free hand came up to Brienne’s head, softly stroking her hair as the other gently caressed her upper arm. Her armor made it a little lumpy, but you did not care. Having her back in your arms after so long was an incredible feeling, and you couldn’t believe how you had made it this long without her warmth. 

Her sobbing was relentless, tears flowing down her face and dropping onto your legs. Your leather tasset had gradually shifted down the side of your upper thighs in your seated position, revealing your tunic trousers underneath. 

Brienne repeated the same phrase, over and over again through wails. Saying how sorry she was, how she hoped you could forgive her. You in turn answered with reassurance. Telling her that you accepted her apology, that she was forgiven. 

You didn’t know how much time had passed when Brienne’s cries eventually died down, rendering the small space silent except for the occasional sniffles coming from the blonde beside you. Her head had been removed from your chest and she now sat upright. You still had your arm around her, hand resting on her armored bicep. 

The hand that had been stroking her hair was now holding hers, entwined hands resting in between yours and Brienne’s thighs. Your thumb lazily drawing lines on the scarred skin. 

“Are you alright?” The softness had returned to your voice, the love and tenderness had as well, and the Commander noticed. She was soothed by your question because it meant you still cared enough to check in on her. That lit a light in Brienne’s tunnel of misery; there was still something left to save, to rebuild. 

“Yes. Especially now that I’m back in your arms.” She turned her head to look at you, you doing the same and offering her a soft smile which she returned. As you took in her tear-stained face and red puffy eyes, you were smacked with the remembrance of your earlier words, words that shouldn’t have been uttered. 

  “I’m really sorry for what I said back there. I was filled with fury, and I didn’t mean it. I always want to refer to you, dear Brienne.” Voice low to avoid disrupting the peace, your voice was gentler. A strong contrast to the cutting tone you had used outside. You brought her held hand up to your face to place a peck on the back of it, relishing in the feeling of her skin against your lips once again. 

“It’s okay, I know you didn’t mean it. I forgive you either way.” You dropped yours and Brienne’s hands into your lap and released a sigh of relief hearing her words. Silence settled in again as you gazed into each other's eyes. The blonde's sapphire blues darted down to your lips and back up to your eyes, just like they had that night in the courtyard almost one year ago. She wanted to kiss you, and you needed her to. “You know, I really did miss you. A lot.” It was nothing more than a whisper, a breath of desire. 

“Yeah, yeah. I missed you, too. Now shut up and kiss me, please.” Brienne giggled at your eagerness and avidity and was quick to oblige to your wish. She turned her body towards you, legs shifting to be able to face you as comfortably as possible, hand coming up to cup your cheek, head diving in fast to capture your lips, eyes falling shut before colliding. 

The second her lips connected with yours, a contented and allayed moan escaped Brienne’s throat. She had longed for, craved, and missed you for so many months, all the tension and sorrow built up inside of her melting away the moment your lips touched. It was even more heavenly than she had recalled. One of your hands flew up to the side of her neck, your body shifting to copy the way she sat. 

It was like you never left, lips moving together in familiarity. Brienne’s tongue swiped over your bottom lip, begging for entrance, and you granted it. Her wet, strong muscle started exploring your mouth the second you parted your lips. The feeling of her tongue wrestling with yours along with the familiar taste of her, made you release a low moan; she tasted even better than you had remembered. 

The taste of you, the feeling of your tongue sliding against hers, your soft whimpers as she expertly moved her lips with yours like a dance, elegant and controlled like a waltz, but passionate and heated like a tango. A dance of the love and yearning you contained for the other. All of it took over her senses, her brain going into overdrive, her mewling against your lips. 

The hand that was holding on to Brienne’s broke away from the grasp, moving to find purchase in the blonde's hair. It was already disheveled from the salty ocean wind, hair slightly curled from the humidity in the air; your hand running through it wouldn’t make it worse. It wouldn’t be odd for her hair to be out of place considering the strong coast gust. 

Your fingers started at the nape of her neck, slowly moving upwards until they stopped at the back, curling them in her tresses, gathering a fistful of her hair in your hand. Brienne hummed against your mouth at the feeling of your digits in her hair once again, and the hand that had been abandoned by yours grabbed onto your waist, palm gently resting on your side. 

Your lips pulled apart, but you still kept the contact, foreheads leaning against the others, eyes shut as you regained your breath. “I really did miss you. I was hoping to show you just how much...” Brienne spoke between heavy breaths. 

You did not miss the glint of seduction in her voice or the innuendo. During the make-out session the all too familiar heat grew between your legs and your body craved her touch, as it had for months. But right here, in a carriage in a port town when you both had responsibilities? 

“Brienne...” Breathing out her name and meaning to remind her of your current area; you weren’t able to complete the rest of your sentence before she interrupted you. 

“Look at me,” you removed your head from hers and opened your eyes, meeting Brienne’s that were already staring back at you, her blue irises as deep and breathtaking as the galaxy, filled with stars and planets of her own. They were truly remarkable and gorgeous; fitting for someone like her. “I have craved you for so long. I don’t know how long it will be until we meet again. Let me make it up to you. Let me erase the past five months of misery. Let me do this so we can have something to last us until we can guarantee proximity to each other. Please.” 

The hand in her blonde curls transferred to her cheek, gently holding and stroking her flushed skin with your thumb. Her eyes were pleading as was her voice, wanting to remove the memories of pain and replace them with ones of pleasure; and you wanted that too. 

You placed a soft kiss on her lips before nodding, “that sounds perfect. I’d love nothing more.” At your confirmation, Brienne’s lips turned up into the biggest grin much like the one she wore after your first kiss, and she was on her knees on the wooden floor shortly after; her hands resting on your legs. 

“I’ve never done this before. All I know is that I want to make you feel good.” She gazed up at you as she spoke. She was insecure, as was obvious in her voice and her eyes, but also determined, not letting uncertainty scare her away. “Tell me if it feels good and what I can do to bring you maximum pleasure.” 

“I will.” 

The woman on her knees before you started undressing you. Starting with your boots, before wedging her hands under your leather chest cover to unstrap your tasset that was hindering access to the buckle of your trousers. 

Throwing a look at the door to the carriage to make sure it was locked, you noticed that one of the springs hadn’t been covered by the sheer curtain. As you stood up to close it, Brienne’s fingers undid the metal of your pants, pulling them down at the same time as you pulled the curtain down. 

You were now completely out of sight; the problem was, so was the outside world, and if your mother decided to forego your escort to make the trek back herself; she’d find you in one hell of a position. 

You prayed to the old Gods and the new that your mother would stay put, or that inventory would take longer than usual so that she didn’t hear you reconnecting with your love. Sure, she knew about Brienne and the relationship you had, it was one of the first things you had talked about when you got home, but you didn’t want your mothers' first impression of the much taller knight to be her in between your legs. 

Brienne’s hands grabbed onto your hips and pulled down, causing you to meet the seat with an unexpected speed, she was impatient, and you understood why. She had already spent too much time away from her mission and Podrick, and sooner or later, he would come looking for her, and would no doubt find her considering her last known position and your family’s carriage being mere feet away. Time was of the essence, and you couldn’t afford to waste any of it. 

Heavy breathing came from the woman in front of you as she placed her hands back onto your knees and gently spread them, being faced with your soaked underwear. She had never seen your sex before, felt it, sure, but never seen. She hadn’t tasted you either and she was practically drooling at the thought of finally doing so. 

Tentative and curious hands slowly traveled up your legs, stopping at the hem of your undergarments. Hooking her fingers inside and motions for you to elevate your hips slightly. Lifting your hips for easy discarding, she pulled them down in one motion, revealing your needy cunt to her hungry, dilated eyes. 

She was if in a trance, watching with such intensity you feared her eyes would pop out of her skull. You nudged her shoulder with your knee, causing her to snap her gaze to yours. Her pupils were blown-out, darkened from lust and desire. The air was thick inside of the small space and you could practically sense her ferocity as it emanated from her person.  

She looked so pretty like this on her knees for you, looking up at you with virtuous eyes. So ready and willing to serve; to satisfy your needs. Reaching out a hand, you took hold of her chin, guiding her face closer to your core, she needed a little helping hand. “You look so good right now, pretty girl. On your knees for me. So ready to do whatever I wish, hmm.” 

Brienne could only offer a nod in response, your words and low, vibrating voice combined with your dominating tone. If she were standing, she was sure her knees would give out and she’d fall to the floor. But since she already was kneeling on the wooden boards, she gave out a tiny whine instead, forgetting just how much power your words had over her. 

The scent of your arousal was overwhelming, your pussy radiating such heat, Brienne being able to sense it all when you had brought her face close enough to the apex of your inner thighs, and she wanted nothing more than to taste you, something she had wanted for such a long time; completely missing out on her chance before you left. She thought she had all the time in the world with you, how was she supposed to know you were leaving the same night she had intended to feast on you. 

So, the fact remained: you had tasted her; she hadn’t tasted you and she was so desperate to finally know how your wet flesh would feel against her tongue. Desperate to gain familiarity with the sensation she thought she would have experienced months ago when she had planned it. 

After you had eaten her out and gotten into bed together, her mind had started wondering what you’d taste like and that she’d propose to perform oral on you the next day during your midnight meeting, but then you left, and she never did find out what you tasted like. 

Finally, five months later. She would finally know just how wonderful you’d taste. 

“Use your tongue, my sweet girl. Don’t be afraid to use your instincts.” You stroked Brienne’s skin softly before sliding your hand to the back of her head, leg coming up to lay on her shoulder, foot resting on her back. Your other hand was placed beside you, using the seat as support. 

She licked her lips, mumbling ‘what a pretty little pussy’ before finally diving in, shutting her eyes, and allowing her intuition to take over. She licked a careful stripe up from your entrance to your clit, circling it slowly before closing her mouth around it, lightly sucking. Her tongue was a godsend, so strong and oh was she good at using it. 

You released a soft whimper, mindful to keep quiet considering your whereabouts but still wanting to let her know just how good she was making you feel. Your head leaned against the wall behind you, but your eyes were locked on Brienne’s between your legs, moving slightly as she used her skillful mouth on you. 

Your fingers grabbed at her hair, wanting to hold her in place as her tongue flicked over your clit and you refrained from pushing her closer; wanting her to do it on her own terms. You were sure that if she made you come with minimal help from you, her confidence would boost and that would exponentially heighten the chances of her giving head more often in the future, maybe even initiate it. 

Even though you wanted her to learn by doing, she had requested you to tell her how to make you feel good, and that was what you intended to do. 

Her arms were snaked around your thighs, hands resting where hip and leg met. She switched between sucking and licking, sometimes doing both, drawing out all kinds of noises from you. “Yeah. Just like that, baby. Just like that. You’re doing so good.” Even when she was pleasuring you, she was still submissive and in need of praise and assurance, and you were more than happy to provide all of those things for her. “Try- Try adding more pressure with your tongue.” 

A vibrating sensation exited Brienne’s mouth as she moaned against your clit at hearing your praise, causing your body to jerk and you to hold back a loud groan. She wanted to be validated, to be told she was doing a good job. This only applied to the sex part of her life, however, as she couldn’t care less about what other people thought of her, well, not anymore at least; her childhood self would disagree. 

The only person’s opinion she cared about besides maybe the professional opinions of her King, were yours. She wanted you to think highly and goodly of her, in all aspects of her life, be it professional, personal, or intimate, and you did. This she knew, it still felt good to hear you say it though. 

Brienne’s eyes which had been screwed shut the entire time suddenly opened, looking up at you with curious eyes. She wanted to see how you’d react to all of her following ministrations, fascination, and wonder glinting in her beautiful eyes. 

She took your advice and adjusted accordingly, placing her tongue flat on your clit with the pressure to go with and dragged her tongue up, making you drawl out a throaty moan. “Oh, Gods! Feels so fucking good, so fucking good.” Your words were slurred, your voice low to avoid it being heard by anyone else than Brienne, your heavy breaths and hums only growing more and more ragged as the woman betwixt your legs worked her wet muscle against you. 

You’d had your share of love affairs before but that was nothing compared to this. The feeling of getting eaten out by the love of your life was like nothing you’d ever experienced before. Not even the meetings you used to have as a young adult in the local bathhouses felt as good as this did. 

Brienne was a beginner but a very quick learner, and she knew exactly how to pleasure you because she knew you and your body, playing it masterfully, playing it like an instrument; like she hadn’t done anything else. 

She was devoted to your pleasure, devoted to worshipping you and your pussy with her tongue. Nothing else mattered in this specific moment, only the feeling of your legs shuttering, your moany whimpers, and your fingers twisting in her hair did. 

The sounds inside the wheelhouse were right out of a brothel, moans mixed with the wet noises coming from Brienne as she used her mouth on you. She murmured against your clit, a whisper mostly to herself, but you had heard it too, “You taste so fucking good...” Her words combined with the intense eye contact made your head spin, your insides turning in the most pleasant way. 

Every stroke, lick, kiss, and suck from the blonde brought you closer to the edge of climax, the familiar warmth pooling in your stomach, legs twitching and hips bucking with every ripple of pure bliss that went through your body. The release was barreling towards you like a wild buck and you were so ready for the collision, ready to get sent into an endless vortex of pleasure. 

During the five months that you and Brienne had been apart, more and more tension began to build up inside of you, a knot forming in your stomach. You often found yourself thinking of that morning in the baths or the night before, and it never failed to make you a throbbing mess. You never found the time to rid yourself of it, so it just continued to grow, the knot only getting tighter. 

Months' worth of pent-up tension releasing would equal in an orgasm the size of a tsunami washing over you and you were made aware of this fact as the band inside of you tightened, and tightened, until it eventually snapped, untying the knot at the same time. 

Waves upon waves of ecstasy poured over you as your body convulsed with pleasure. Your back was arching, hips thrashing as you rode Brienne’s face to drag out your orgasm. Her hands that had been resting in the space between thigh and hip pushed down to keep you steadier, but still allowing you to grind against her mouth. 

The hand in the blonde hair loosened as you came down from your peak, stroking her messy curls instead, hoping to smooth down the mess you had surely made of her locks. Brienne had removed her head from your sex, drawing languid circles with her fingers on your skin. Gorgeous blue eyes gazing up at you with awe as they watched your breathing grow steady. 

The Lord Commander leaned back on her heels, your hand sliding off her head as she moved out of your reach, removing herself from your legs, sloping to grab your clothes. Her chin was covered in your juices, and you made a mental note to get that cleaned up before you left the carriage. 

She grabbed your ruined undergarments and reached out a hand to give them to you where you sat, the hand that had been placed flat on the wood beside you the entire session was brought up to push her hand away, “they’re already soaked, you might as well use them to wipe your chin.” A breathless chuckle passed your lips as you spoke, Brienne looking at you comically. 

She muttered a quick ‘sorry’ before using a dry part of the cloth to dry her chin, removing any trace of your activities. She reached out a hand with them again and this time you accepted them, putting them on and wincing at the uncomfortable feeling of your wet and cold underwear, luckily you were heading home as soon as your mother was finished, and you could change. 

Your trousers were handed to you shortly after to be put on and buckled, as well as your tasset, and finally your boots. 

“Come here.” Brienne did as she was told and shuffled close to you, kneeling down at your side so you were at eye level. “My beautiful girl,” bringing a hand up to her cheek, you traced her skin with your fingers, inching closer to her face to give her a kiss. 

It was a gentle one, soft and tender, and you could sense the taste of you on her lips. “I love you.” It was a whisper against her lips, a promise for now and the future until you could tell her every day. 

“I love you, too. I do not like the idea that we must leave each other once again,” Brienne let out a sad sigh and turned her head away from you to stare at the carriage door. You were not entirely happy with the situation either but there was nothing to be done until you were no longer needed. “Come with me.” 

Your eyes widened at her words. Had you heard her correctly? “W- What?” Shock was painted across your features, your voice trying to remain steady, but you were too taken aback to bother with that, slightly shaking with perplexity seeping through. 

She turned her head to look at you once again, her expression deadly serious. She wasn’t jesting or posing any what-ifs. “Come with me to Kings Landing. I will ask for King Bran’s attention and request for him to recruit you into the King's Guard. We need more knights, and I know you would be the perfect fit.” This was wishful thinking. The Kings Guard?  

Quickly exhaling and inhaling, your face furrowed together in empathy, you too shared her want to travel to Kings Landing and spend all eternity by her side until death released you from your vows, but your mother needed you. “Brienne, I-” 

“Yes. I know. Your mother. But, please, just. Just consider it.” Her eyes and words were begging, her eyebrows raised in hope, wishing that you’d say yes; that you’d consider it. 

“I will consider it.” The smile that spread on your Commander's lips was infectious, causing you to do the same. Her eyes lit up like stars in the night sky, twinkling just the same. They really were as deep and vast as the galaxy, holding just as many uncharted and unexplored areas. 

A knocking on the door caused you and Brienne to snap out of your staring competition, instinctively putting distance between each other, you shooting over to the other side and retrieving your scabbard, the woman across from you doing the same with hers. 

The muffled voice of the coachman came from the outside, signaling that you had been in there for far too long, “Ser! I think your mother is all finished and ready to leave. Is everything alright in there?” You took a quick look at Brienne, her curls strewn across her forehead, and you motioned for her to comb her fingers through her locks to tidy it up a little. 

“Yes, everything is quite alright. We are finished and are coming out. Thank you!” You and Brienne snorted at you using ‘finished’ considering you did just that, you were acting a little immature, laughing at such a thing; but you felt like young adults sneaking around and that earned a tiny bit of immaturity. 

The woman sharing your space looked at you questionably, a silent query asking ‘does my hair look okay?’ you nodding as an answer. 

Quickly pulling aside all the curtains inside the wheelhouse to let the light in, you gave Brienne one last long kiss before opening the door and stepping out into the hot Dorne sun. Your coachman stood outside, eyeing you both, obviously wondering what had taken so long but decided not to ask. 

“Walk with me?” Turning your head to look up at her, Brienne only nodded, letting you take the first step and her following you with steps to match your stride. She often did this when you walked together, coordinating her pace with yours so she wouldn’t race ahead and you not being able to keep up. It was a slight adjustment, but a very thoughtful one. 

When you approached the water-bound vessel your mother was on, she wore the biggest grin as she looked from you to Brienne, her expression a drastic change from the melancholic mood she had adopted as her default since your father passed. 

It was unnerving seeing such a display of teeth after only seeing a frown for so long, but you assumed she recognized the taller woman beside you based on your very detailed explanations of her appearance.  

Your mother stepped off the ship, the captain she had spoken to earlier barking orders to his men to ready the ship so they could transport the rest of the wares as she reached land. 

Brienne had stopped her walk, the same as you, still by your side a couple of feet away from your mother. Close enough that you could hear each other over the cacophony of people, but far enough that your mother wouldn’t be able to tell what you had been doing. 

“Brienne, this is my mother. Mother, this is Lord Commander Brienne.” Your mother had her head slightly cocked to the side, a caring and loving look on her face as you introduced them to each other.  

The situation in which you had told your parents about Brienne had been completely unplanned. It had been on a hot night shortly after your arrival by your father's bedside as he asked you about Winterfell. 

It had only really been a simple question of what your obligations had been, however, the second you had mentioned Brienne’s name, your mother grew intrigued, wanting to probe and prod after hearing the tone and manner of words you used when speaking about the then Ser. 

Her clever questions and your oblivious answers caused you to reveal more than you had intended to, and suddenly your parents knew all about the nature of your relationship.  

“M’Lady.” Your knightly blonde stayed as formal as always to leave a good first impression. Giving your mother a more drawn-out nod, she left her head tilted down longer than she usually did, deciding to be more casual in her greeting considering the fact that it was your parent. 

“So, you’re Lord Commander Brienne of Tarth. I’ve heard so much about you.” Brienne took a panicked glance at you, hoping you hadn’t spoken about the five months of errors on her end that would surely not be appreciated by your mother. You only gave her a reassuring smile back. 

“Just Brienne is fine, and only good things, I hope.” The worry in her voice was obvious to you, it goes unnoticed by your mother. Brienne was good at hiding her true reactions to things when the situation called for it, and this was definitively one of those situations. 

“Brienne it is. Positive things only, my dear. The joy you have brought my child is unmeasurable, and I am so grateful.” A goofy smile spread on the blonde woman's lips, a combination of relief and glee at learning that you had abstained from telling your mother about her shortcomings, if she did know; Brienne was sure your mother wouldn’t be as friendly as she currently was towards her. 

“They have brought me the same amount, M’Lady. Your child is truly exceptional, never met anyone quite like them.” Brienne’s smile changed into a sincere one as she spoke, her voice filled with warmth. Seeing them interact so effortlessly made you all giddy, staring at the tall Commander beside you with a lovestruck expression. 

“Why don’t you come back to Lemonwood with us, Brienne. Have supper with us, maybe spend a few nights at our residence, we’d love to host you.” This was really an excuse for your mother to spend time with your knight, to get to know the person her child had fallen madly in love with. 

If your father were still alive, you were sure he would sit right beside your mother as they asked Brienne question after question. The image in your mind made you smile fondly. Your father really would have loved to meet her, they would find that their opinions matched on many different matters. 

“That sounds very pleasant, and I would love to accept but I am afraid I am unable to. I need to get back to Kings Landing.” The twinge of sadness in her words did not stay hidden from either you or your mother. The reminder that time was not on your side bared itself once again, and no number of prayers could change the fact that you and Brienne had to part. 

“Yes, of course. How unfortunate. Perhaps another time?” Your mother did not back down, she laid out a long-standing offer, meaning that sooner or later, Brienne would sit at her dinner table, and she’d be able to learn all about the mysterious woman before her. 

“I’d love to take you up on that offer. Perhaps if I am dispatched to Dorne for a longer period of time.” You could tell that Brienne was being polite, yet she seemed genuine in her words. The moment she’d set foot inside the walls of your home, you were sure she would come to regret taking your mother up on the offer. She liked her privacy, and your mother liked prodding. Them together was not a feasible pairing. 

“Of course, just send a raven ahead of time so we can prepare, other than that you are always welcome to our home. It was a pleasure to finally meet you, Brienne.” She liked the pretty knight, you could tell. You could also tell that she was itching to get on the road, ready to talk your ear off and tease you about your behavior around the blonde. 

It was all with good intentions, something she did when you were young and had an infatuation with someone. 

“You too, M’Lady.” 

“Safe travels.” She spoke her final words to Brienne before shifting her attention to you, “I will give you two a moment, come find me when you’re done.” With this, she walked back to the still-docked ship she had previously been on, spectating as the crewmen scattered around on deck to get everything ready for departure. 

You turned to look at Brienne, her doing the same, a crestfallen expression gracing her features. Your face matching hers, “I sent Bartholomew off with another message this morning. Reply this time, please.” 

“Bartholomew?” Even though she was incredibly disheartened, an amused and quizzical look took over her face. 

“Yes. One of our message ravens. His real name is Branoc, but I named him Bartholomew the Raven the First. It was whimsical to me.” You lovingly smiled at Brienne, and she reciprocated, smiling with just as much adoration back. 

She chuckled slightly, “I see. I will read yours and send one back with Bartholomew the Raven the First. I swear, no more miscommunication.” Her words were true, no more silence from her end, no more misery. 

“Good. Well, off you go.” Tears were starting to well up in your eyes, you didn’t want to let her go, did not want to watch her leave but you were afraid there was no other choice. You could see Podrick in the distance behind Brienne, waiting for her to board the ship so they could return back. 

“I will be looking forward to hearing your decision when you have given thought to my offer. I love you. Please come back to me soon.” She was dragging this out, wanting your goodbye to last as long as possible so your time wouldn’t be cut short so soon. 

“I will try. I love you.” Gazing up into her eyes, you took her hands in yours, an action overlooked by the mass amount of people around you. “Now go. Ser Podrick is waiting for you.” 

“Farewell, for now, Ser.” Squeezing your hands, Brienne let go of them and straightened her back, hand resting on its usual place on the hilt of her sword; looking down at you with an over-enthusiastically assertive face, making you giggle a tiny bit. 

“Farewell for now, Lord Commander.” One long glance was exchanged before Brienne turned on her heels and started marching over to where Podrick was standing. The last you saw of her tall figure was her boarding the ship and her disappearing below deck. 

Walking up to your mother, you grabbed her attention by tapping her gently on the shoulder, her turning around to face you. “I will allow two questions on the ride back, and that is it.” Setting these boundaries with your mother rarely worked, but this time you were serious, dead set on maintaining some seclusion. 

“Two questions are all I’ll need.” 

——— 

Two weeks had passed since the events in Planky Town, and you had let it slip to your mother that Brienne had proposed to speak to the King on your behalf. A couple days after she had learned this, she miraculously didn’t need your services anymore, leaving you free to do whatever you wished. 

The first thing you did was send a raven to Brienne, telling her that you reflected on her proposal, that you accept, and to expect you the following week. 

Directly after this, you had traveled to Sunspear. Letting Prince Martell know that you would no longer be able to assist in whatever he needed. Considering you never swore your services to him and that it was purely a means to keep the ‘protect the innocents’ part of your knightly oath going; the only thing he could do was to thank you for your help and to let you leave. 

Packing whatever you needed for your trip, you said your goodbyes to your mother and later that day, you were on a ship heading for Kings Landing. It was another one of your family’s ones, and considering they were already heading up north, they allowed you to ride along in exchange for your assistance in carrying the goods, which you gladly assisted with. 

That all led to you standing at the dock of Kings Landing where the tall woman stood and awaited you. Walking up to her, you took a glance around before looking up at her with feigned confusion. “Excuse me, I’m supposed to meet Lord Commander Brienne of Tarth. Do you know where I could find her?” 

Brienne smiled playfully, lightly shoving your shoulder, causing you to grin up at her. “You’re not funny, you know?” 

“That smile on your face would suggest otherwise.” You were teasing her; she knew you were. You wanted to engage in small banter before diving right into serious King’s Guard business, but Brienne was eager for you to get integrated and fitted so she could take you to her private quarters and cuddle you. 

“We can continue this later. Let’s go see the King. He’s looking forward to meeting you.” Brienne began leisurely trekking, you following after her. The sun reflected so perfectly in her gold plates as she journeyed towards the large gate, eventually traveling under it.

You found yourself in shadows for a brief period of time before the light hit your face as you emerged from the dark, stepping out into Fishmonger’s Square. 

From there you walked straight until you took a right, walking down The Hook and you couldn’t do much but gape at the Red Keep where it stood, large and marvelous, fit for a King of the Six Kingdoms. As you passed through the curved street, you and Brienne kept up a mindless conversation, not talking about anything important, really, just chatting, enjoying each other’s company. 

After finally, reaching the end of The Hook, you were greeted with a set of stairs, going up Aegon’s High Hill. You looked to Brienne with annoyed exhaustion, and she laughed, stating that ‘the leg muscles you get from this makes it worth it, I promise.’ She was being goofy, trying to change your expression into one less irritated, and it worked; she always knew how to make you smile like a fool. 

She motioned for you to go first, and you did, knowing that if you lost balance or fell, Brienne would be there to catch you. She, on the other hand, wanted you to go first so she could be bestowed the privilege of having your ass as her view; she would never admit that though. 

About halfway up, the knight behind you asked if you wanted to take a break, but you declined, knowing that you were almost there. Give or take a few dozen steps. Brienne shrugged, staying close to your back in case your legs gave out. Even her thighs were burning. 

Even though you walked a few steps above her, you still only reached Brienne’s forehead and she found it amusing that someone so short could have so much love, well, you were short to her; everyone was short to her. 

You ascended the very last stairstep, the Red Keep towering and looming above you. It was even more intimidating and glorious up close, and you had to crane your neck to even get remotely close to the peak of it. You had to stop yourself from releasing a ‘whoa’ but settled with subtle gawking instead; subtle being eyes and mouth wide open. 

Brienne passed your still-standing person, giggling at your amazement, “come on, you silly girl. You can revel in the spectacularism later.” You shook yourself out of your current state when hearing her fond tone, coming to join your blonde Commander by the large doors. 

Brienne entered the large building, making sure you were behind her, allowing you to step up to her side. The insides of the building were equally as grand as the outside, a home fit for a King, you thought. You refrained from commenting on the vision that was the Red Keep, but you were fairly certain your knight already knew what you were thinking by the awestruck countenance you had. 

When you entered the Throne Room, your former face had been switched to a solemn one, showing that you were a very serious knight who hadn’t been staring at the building you were currently in open-mouthed. 

There were two other people in the large space besides you and Brienne. A much shorter man with curly hair, and the King, who sat on his throne which had been moved down from its previous placement so that Bran could lift himself into it. 

Brienne leaned down to your ear, talking to you in a hushed tone, “That’s King Brandon Stark, which I assume you know. And the bloke next to him is Lord Hand Tyrion Lannister.” You only hummed in response as she rose to her full height once again. 

Tyrion had noticed the blonde's change in mood the second she had returned from Dorne. No longer staring off into nothingness and getting lost in her thoughts. No longer hiding away and sharpening every sword known to man or obsessively counting in the armory. 

He had been wondering what the cause for this sudden change in her behavior was, but now that he saw the way she looked at you, the way her eyes lit up as she spoke, and how you acted the same towards her; he drew his own conclusions. He was sure to tease her about this at a later date. 

Brienne and you stopped before the King, kneeling in front of him. He called you both up to stand straight, the Lord Commander marching up to stand by her King's side, you standing firmly in place. 

“Your Grace.” You kept your eyes fixated on Bran, very aware of Brienne’s eyes on you. You could see her in the corner of your eye, she looked so exalted and heroic standing next to the King in her gold armor and white cloak. 

“Lord Brienne speaks very highly of you. She has stated very clearly that she would fight by your side and that she trusts you with her life.” You had to hold back a grin at his words, she spoke just as highly of you as you did of her, “I have heard of your accomplishments on the battlefield, and I must say that I am impressed.” 

“Thank you, Sire.”  

You had spent the journey here memorizing the oath you had to swear. It was a mighty long one, but it had eventually stuck, and you were sure it would never unstick. You didn’t quite know when you were supposed to swear it, hoping Brienne would give you some sort of signal for when it was time. 

Luckily, there was no need for that, King Bran gave you his own very clear instructions with his words, “I would be a fool to not have you in my Kings Guard, especially when my own Lord Commander was essentially bragging about your skills.” At this, Brienne’s head slumped down to hide a smile that crept up on her lush lips, she was a little bit embarrassed at him exposing her. Yet at the same time she was grateful for it because now you knew just how much she wanted you here with her unless any of her other words hadn’t been enough. “Kneel.” 

Brienne looked at you with enthusiasm, her pride for you shining brightly in the dimly lit room. She observed as you got down onto your knee once again, barely able to contain her large grin. The corners of her lips twitched, and she was sure that if either of the men beside her were to see it; they would question the reason why she actually wanted you here. She could want you here for two reasons, no? One selfish, one for the good of the kingdom. 

Your sword skills matched hers, and to have you next to her would put her so much more at ease. She was well aware that she was an exceptional sword fighter, but to have two with the same skill was calming, knowing that you would both go through hell and high water to get back to the other alive.  

Having such a drive force can be lifesaving in dire and lethal situations, especially when your job is to protect the King; riots hadn’t been uncommon in the past, but hopefully, there would be none now that there was new and better leadership. 

“I swear to ward the King with all my strength, and to give my blood for his. I shall take no wife, hold no lands, mother no children. I shall guard his secrets, obey his commands, ride at his side, and defend his name and honor.” 

What you didn’t seem to notice even though you kept your eyes fixed on Bran, was his slight eyebrow quirk at the fact that you chose to replace father with mother, but wife remained, just as it had with Brienne’s oath. 

“Arise.” 

Brienne practically beamed at you as you got up from your knee, almost overzealously volunteering to take you to your fitting when Bran and Tyrion started discussing it. The shorter one of the two stared at her with an astute look, mouthing ‘real smooth, Lord Brienne,’ a teasing smile on his face. 

The tall blonde shot him one of her signature glares in return, staring at him pointedly and he knew he was going to have fun messing with her about this. Maybe he’ll ask her if she’s still a virgin, maybe her answer had changed since the last time he asked. He was sure it had, but he wanted to hear her say it. 

“Your Grace. I will take our newest recruit for measurements, then show them their quarters. Leave it to me.” Bran didn’t think much of Brienne’s willingness, he thought her to be a strange character sometimes and this was one of those times. He just simply nodded to show that she was sanctioned to do just that. 

“Lord Commander. Ser. You are both dismissed.” Brienne trotted over to your side, ready to lead you away from the large room. 

“Yes. Your Grace.” Speaking unanimously, you and the tall blonde bowed before taking your exit. Side by side, you roamed the regal halls of the Red Keep, and you couldn’t stop yourself from staring in wonderment again, nearing the exit of said building. 

Brienne found your extreme fascination and wonder endearing, her heart fluttering at your childlike enthusiasm and admiration, her insides all warm, her stomach filling with butterflies as she watched your wonderstruck face. 

The descent of the stairs was much more forgiving than the ascent and you had found yourself walking down The Kings Road that winded through Kings Landing, and as you walked, Brienne explained to you that you had two stops to make, one at the armorer for measurements for your new plates and gambeson, and a second at the tailor, for new tunics and trousers, but also for your long white cloak. 

She spoke to you the entire time about what she had been up to the five months you were apart, stating that it was too much to be written on paper, as you navigated the streets of Kings Landing to make your errands. 

It all went smoothly and eventually, Brienne had taken you to the White Sword Tower, where your chambers were located. “I managed to get your room next to mine, so we can easily sneak in between if we wish.” Her voice was hushed and her tone mischievous as she showed you her quarters, and then yours. You smiled at her words; she hadn’t changed one bit. 

“Come into mine. I wish to show you something.” Suddenly her voice and face turned candid, opening the door to her room and allowing you to walk in before her, closing it after entering the quarters herself. 

She immediately walked up to her hearth, starting a warming and crackling fire, and then moved to the armor stand in her room, beginning the removal process of each piece of her golden plates. 

You couldn’t help but look at the back of her head with a puzzled expression. It was getting close to sunset, but not close enough to warrant Brienne unstrapping her armor. She usually kept it on until bedtime, and it was still light outside. 

Continuing her process, she spoke to you, voice soft and tender, “Go look in that book over there.” She twitched her head quickly, motioning you in the direction she wanted you to go. 

Walking over to her bed table, your eyes landed on a book. Brienne didn’t seem like the type of person who would be interested in dramatic literature. “The book isn’t of importance; I just picked a random one. Look inside.” 

You looked back at Brienne, only having her gambeson left to remove, but had stopped for a second to turn her head to look at you, offering an encouraging smile. Shifting your gaze back to the book, you picked it up and opened the worn-out leather cover. The paper inside seemed to stare back at you with accusing eyes. 

It was tear-stained, obvious marks on the spots the Lord Commander’s tears had landed. You were almost certain about what the parchment was, your speculations were only confirmed when you removed it from the pages and unfolded it; your handwriting from five months ago glaring at you. 

“You kept it?” This was surely a painful memory for Brienne, why she opted to keep it you did not know. The evidence of her evening cries was clear on the slightly ripped note; she must’ve read this every single day. 

“Yes.” She was finally finished with her armor and gambeson and moved to join you by her bed. “I needed to have something of yours, and this was all I had.” She stopped in front of you, gently taking the book and letter from your hands, placing them back on the bed table before grabbing hold of your hands. “I read it every single night, desperately trying to remember your voice. But I- I couldn’t.” 

Her gaze shifted from yours to the floor, and you were hit with a surge of woe seeing her evade your eyes. You did not know why she felt the need to do so. Was she ashamed that she had forgotten your voice? Or maybe embarrassed admitting that she read your letter every night even if it reminded her of the dark winter evening by the stables? You did not know, and you didn’t want to ask, not now at least. 

“Darling,” one of your hands tangled itself out of Brienne’s to softly lift her chin up, so you could look into her magnificent irises. “I forgot your voice too. No matter, though. We’ll be able to hear each other's voice every day from now on.” She smiled down at you with sad eyes, an unasked question in the air that you both wanted to ask, the taller woman being the actual one to ask it. 

“Will you let me hold you, please? I wish to hold you.” It was almost like she was shy, acting like it was the beginning stage of your relationship once again, and in a way it kind of was. You were in need of her warmth, her closeness, and the strong enveloping of her large and long arms. For her to hold you tight and never let go, desperate to be back in her embrace once again. 

You responded by kissing her tenderly on her lips, removing your hand from her chin, and using the one still in her hand to drag her down onto the bed with you. Both you and Brienne were still fully clothed, an error that needed to be resolved; you wanted to feel her hot skin against yours once again like you had done so many moons ago. “I want to feel your bare flesh against mine, please.” 

Brienne watched you lovingly and fondly, nodded, and started to remove her clothing, stripping down to her undergarments. It was nothing sexual, just the need to feel the entirety of her against you; an animalistic urge to feel a sense of security. You followed suit, undressing with haste, folding up your clothes, and placing them next to hers at the foot of the bed. 

Your blonde knight in shining armor crawled under the covers and laid down on her side, holding the fur up for you so you could do the same. Lifting up the same arm that had been holding the cover as you did. 

She wasted no time in slinging the same limb around you when you had laid down next to her, pulling you close to her, your back against her front. Her face nuzzling into your neck, breathing in your scent. 

Her strong musk and arms encompassed you, the faint and familiar smell of fresh grass and light sweat overwhelming your senses once again. You were completely intoxicated by her proximity, you couldn’t think, your mind was scrambled, heart racing. 

She started pressing soft kisses to your skin, supple lips ghosting over your neck and shoulder, making you release a sigh. Brienne whispered against your skin, her breath slightly tickling you. “Tell me what you did in Dorne during the five months we were apart. Catch me up, please.” You were more than happy to. 

As you started to recount the events that had occurred over the past five months, Brienne’s hold around you tightened, attempting to have you even closer to her which at this point was impossible. There was barely any space left between you, not even a small air pocket. 

Your legs were tangled with her incredibly long ones, fingers drawing mindless circles on her arm as you told her about your journey to Dorne, your father’s passing, and your family’s trader business. 

Brienne hummed every once in a while, to let you know that she was listening, her arm around you strong like cement. As she pressed a barely felt but burning kiss to the skin behind your ear, you realized that you were finally back where you were always meant to be. 

In Brienne’s arms.

–––

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masterlist

updated: nov 10, 2024

!! all works should be considered 18+, minors please dni !!

!! individual warnings at beginning of each fic !!

agatha harkness

effuso sanguine: secret love hidden in forests is a reprieve that time and hate can steal, a love that defies order and law (MOST RECENT)

melissa schemmenti

fluff

from miles away: melissa's ex-husband pays a visit to abbott after hearing about you moving in

crystal clear: five times others realized melissa loved you and the one time she did

are you mine?: melissa takes things into her own hands after watching an addington teacher flirt with you at pecsa-geddon

simmer: a sweet morning between melissa and her firefighting partner

wishful thinking: months of flirting with a clueless r has melissa switching her tactics

would that i: melissa grew up seeing what love was supposed to be, she just needed to find it

amaranthine: melissa schemmenti is easy to adore

as you ever were: mutual feelings, mutual fears, mutually nosy friends

know i'm alive: (nsfw, minors dni) a new teacher with a new motorcycle, and melissa wants to take both for a ride

angst

picking petals: you want melissa to marry you. melissa's mother wants melissa to marry you. but what of melissa?

just how we feel: eight months at abbott had you convinced melissa hated you, until jacob pairs you together for janine's birthday celebrations

tease and unease: mutual secrets can bring mutual pain, a hidden love can break the dam

and now?: (nsfw, minors dni) melissa craved you, you craved melissa. what you crave from each other seems to differ depending on the season. based on red wine supernova and casual by chappell roan

truth be told: melissa loves you, in what way, she doesn't want to know. based on good luck, babe! by chappell roan

part 2: truth be lived

hurt/comfort

delphinium blooms: a morning of unfortunate events proves that development day is just as unlucky for you as it is for janine, so melissa tries to help

blush to ruby: a four-square accident brings out a new side of melissa

frosted hymnal: grief makes the holidays less cheerful, but not a girlfriend less loving

by the sun, by the moon: melissa is plagued by nightmares, ones only you can soothe, but different sleeping arrangements interfere

brienne of tarth

a piece of home: when traveling to king's landing with jaime lannister, brienne finds she's much less alone that she had originally thought

part 2: close to home | part 3: home bound | part 4: home

beckon me back: two months apart is more like two centuries

larissa weems

fluff

an altar of peace: a morning with larissa weems

wine and ember: where red is drank and a spark is lit

all bark, some bite: the bitter reminder of her past returns, and r will not let her wife face it alone

rose infusion: college!larissa smokes weed for the first time with a familiar face

heaven's gate: (nsfw, minors dni) locking eyes with a woman at a bar and finding purpose in her kiss

part 2: pearlescent

angst

one hundred and seventeen: from the second she left, your world stopped spinning on its axis