ThouArt for the fic ask plleeeeeaaaaassseee? 🥺
I have lost this reply three times. The short answer is this my The Bachelor meets Gaudy Night fic, which yes is exactly as weird a mashup as it sounds. I began posting, took a break, decided to get close to completion before posting more, Shit Happened. The general premise is that Brienne is sent to Tarth to select a suitor, must reconcile her identity to the roles of women in her society, and then gets absolutely pole-axed by a surprise contender.
I actually have about five? chapters written and not posted and I still pick at it when I have time (rare), but an extract from the current latest chapter (unedited):
“I--” She gave a harsh laugh, tightened her grip on the sword. “Easily? You think any of this has come easily?”
“Six moons ago, I selected the best men for the Kingsguard. That was easy. I chose men of honour and skill, and told myself that I could--” She’d believed she could make them worthy. “And now I stand here and must select, what? Tell me, ser, when my womanly weakness leaves my people alone without guidance, will you allow the grains to rot in the fields? Will you allow your pride to harm those who rely upon you?”
“No, Jaime, you cannot. I might fall upon my sword, or have some simple cut turn to corruption, or die in--” She swallowed, clenched her fist. “Tell me, ser, if I were to die in childbed--”
“You won’t,” he growled, eyes dark.
“If I were to die in childbed,” she insisted, adamant now that she had acknowledged the ever-lurking truth, spoken it aloud, “if I were to die and my husband must rule Tarth, must act as Warden until my child is of age, should I not be certain he would do it well?”
She arched an eyebrow. How dare he. “No?”
“No, not--” He sighed. “I will accept, perhaps, that you may… You will do what you must, and I would not love you half so much if you would not. Wed him, and bed him, and bear his child, if that is what you must do, but I will not allow it to come at such a price.”
“You cannot allow anything,” she snapped. “Or do you intend to beat the Stranger off with a blade and some particularly clever footwork? I do not think that would work, or there would be far fewer dead mothers in this world. It’s damned inconvenient, even if one is entirely neutral to one’s wife, to seek another, after all.”
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