#brienne got

[rottedheart]

Does anyone else find it weird that people are posting sexualized ai generated photos of Gwendoline and her characters or is that just me

[irreplaceable-ecstasyy]

friends in the dark

REQUEST: Hiya!! I saw you were looking for brienne prompts?if you're still open I'd love to see something where breinne for some reason has to go to a bar or brothel and the reader works there and is flirting with her and gives brienne gay panic!

Wordcount: 3719 words

[Instead of steamy, this whole thing turned into fluff. I couldn't help it. ;-; Brienne deserves so much love. I was writing it in a way that showed that her trust might've been affected after Jaime left her so yeahh. Reader is just delicate with her :) ]

"Tonight is going to be a night of fun and free of responsibility!"

Having convinced the Small Council, Lord Bronn shepherded the little group into what appeared to be a regular building not too far from the castle. Had they not known King's Landing so well, they still would have guessed where the Master of Coin was leading them all for his nature was incredibly predictable. Lord Tyrion had no objections nor did Lord Davos who only wanted to escape the confinement of the castle. Podrick, somehow, got the chance to tag along as well. Grand maester Samwell had gone home without entertaining the thought and Ser Brienne wished she could have done the same.

Against her own will, she had been brought to a place of the night's entertainment and the sight of the scene before her was enough to make her skin crawl. Women and men alike strode past her with barely a shred of clothing on them. Even those lounging seemed perfectly comfortable in the absence of garments. It made her feel entirely overdressed in her uniform. Never had she imagined visiting a brothel, and now that she was here, she felt entirely exposed despite being the one in a fair amount of layers.

Lord Davos and Podrick had disappeared to fetch themselves a drink, much to her dismay. Left with Tyrion and Bronn, she could feel their cheeky little grins burning into the back of her skull. She refused to look at them to feed their amusement, but Bronn was already having a good laugh at her usual scowl.

"Enjoy, won't you?" he jested as he slung an arm over Brienne's shoulders. "I'm sure there'll be someone for you here. If you want one that looks like Jaime, I can get him. But if you fancy experimenting a little, you're at the right place."

Tyrion grimaced at the remark about his late brother and swatted at Bronn's side. "Be nice, Bronn. She won't go easy on you."

"While I appreciate your hospitality, I will be fine," Brienne muttered as she flicked the arm off her shoulders.

"Suit yourself. At least get yourself a drink. Wind down a bit," Bronn offered as he tossed her a coin. "First one's on me." With that, Bronn trotted off.

Tyrion rolled his eyes but offered Brienne a comforting smile. "You don't have to do anything you don't want to do. We just thought it would be nice for you to come out once in a while."

"I'll go get a drink. That's it."

"Be my guest. Don't feel like you have to stay either, okay? We know you can take care of yourself." Tyrion patted Brienne's arm then, with a hum, followed after Bronn through an archway to another room.

Left alone to her own devices, it was the perfect opportunity to leave. She had no desire or obligation to stay, unless Bronn caught her in the act, but she did not answer to him. The buzz of the brothel was livelier than she had seen in a while but it brought her some peace seeing that the people were happy. To some extent. It was nice basking in other people's thrills but she wanted no part in it. She turned on her heel and made her way to the door in a hurried stride, head bowed low to watch her steps than the scene around her.

"Leaving so soon?"

You saw her first when the Small Council came tottering in. They were not exactly the most subtle of people for everyone knew their faces but the one that stood out to you was the woman among them. The Lord Commander herself. It was astounding to you how a woman had managed to claim a seat among the council. A change in the system. A revelation.

She stopped in her stride to acknowledge you. You saw how her shoulders tensed up but after a quick look at you, she dropped them, releasing a slow breath. You were the only other person dressed in modest clothes. Something to look at rather than something to touch; a display. But Brienne did not know any better.

Shaking her head, Brienne stepped away from you. "I'm sorry but I'm not interested."

"But of course. Though, I'm sure a conversation wouldn't hurt."

"Wouldn't I be distracting you from your work?"

"The others are a bore," you scoffed. "I would much rather be in your company." You spoke with an air of fascination, the kind of glow you would not see in a worker who only desired to serve.

Brienne was uncertain but she was no fool. Years of experience taught her how to listen to the tells in people's voices when they were lying. She knew mockery like no other, in the face of it or concealed behind sweet nothings. It was too early to assume your intentions and there was nothing too strange just yet.

"Won't you consider... Podrick?" Brienne recommended. "Unless you've already had a go with him."

You threw your head back in laughter. "I've heard all about him. He's quite popular with the ladies, but no."

The laughter surprised her. Most well-groomed ladies would laugh into the back of her hand or let out a timed giggle. The way you had let the sound express itself in your physicality said more than enough about your character. You had nothing to hide.

She turned away from the door to face you properly once more. "Well, alright. I won't guarantee that I'm any fun to speak to."

"And yet I'm still here. You're not trying to chase me away, are you?" you teased.

"Oh, I don't mean to be rude."

"I was just joking! Come." You extended a hand to her. "Let us get some wine. Or do you prefer ale?"

"Ale will do just fine." She took your hand almost awkwardly but you were far too busy basking in your own delight.

"Because you are my guest, it's on the house~"

You sat her down on a plush couch, away from the other occupied ones where you could get your own privacy. Just before you joined her on the couch, you got someone to fetch the ale. While you draped yourself over the cushions, Brienne sat upright, hands planted firmly on her knees. What a sight she was. No other patron had ever swooned you the way she did and it was if you had forgotten how to breathe.

It took you a moment to recollect yourself from your rude staring, but Brienne had seen just how taken you were. It did nothing to ease her discomfort being in such a place but the somewhat civil exchange between the both of you was not at all unpleasant. She scooted a little closer to you.

"Forgive me for my silence. I did warn you that I'm not very interesting to speak with," she murmured under her breath. "I'm not sure what to do either."

"Speak whatever you wish. We can talk as regular folk do," you told her with a smile.

"But is there not a way for me to speak to you? As in- Well..." she fumbled with her words.

"I promise you, there is no catch. I speak to you as... An acquaintance. Consider me a friend." You rested a hand on her arm; something less intimate than resting it on her hand. "Don't think about my job. I'm not here for the sake of pleasure. I want to talk to you."

She could find no trick in your words. Even her suspicions were beginning to fade away of the possible fool you wanted to make out of her. You radiated comfort and it was all she wanted for the night while the rest of her companions were off in search of their own satisfaction. This was enough. When the ale came, she grabbed the mug and took a swig of it, a sigh following the large mouthful she had had. Swallow every other little insecurity that was nagging her at the back of her head, shut away the rest of the world and focus on who was in front of her, allow herself this bit of company without feeling guilty.

She had to admit, you were quite a beautiful person. She was as taken by you as you were of her but she did the better job of hiding it. The giveaway was the shine in her eyes when they found yours and they never seemed to break away from their gaze. She saw the ways your eyes smiled with the stretch of your lips, a pure glimmer in your own two irises. As you two sipped your ales, you would fill the silence with your giggling while Brienne stared.

If your beauty had not been the one to capture the Lord Commander, it might have been your tenderness. Anyone with a good heart could sway the knight, and receiving such treatment from someone who was beyond her league (or so she believed) was otherworldly.

Clearing her throat, she took another sip of ale and managed a small smile. "We could start by introducing ourselves..."

"I know who you are, Lord Commander," you purred as you inched closer to her.

"But I don't know who you are. It isn't very fair," she protested.

"You're right. It's only proper. But why should I give you my name if we will only meet tonight?" you asked, brows raised.

"I always remember a face and a name to it. I wish to remember the person who kept me company tonight while the rest of my companions left me on my own," she told you after a sip.

"What an honor! But it's no fun giving you the answers directly~"

"I'm not one for games."

"Will you wait then?"

"What for?"

"To see if I deserve to be remembered. We've only just started. We can deal with names later."

Without much of a thought, Brienne shrugged. "Sure. I will say this, my opinion will not change. I will get your name."

"I'm sure you will~"

"And what is that supposed to mean?" she challenged.

You leaned in close to her, smirking lips hovering mere inches away from hers. "Was that a challenge, my dear~?"

A sound alike a squeak rose from her throat but she remained where she was. Persistent. "Two can play this game." She inched away a little, unable to take the heat of the tension but the heat was coming from the red in her cheeks.

"I'm not one to back away from a challenge," you warned her with a grin.

"Good"- She was backed up into the side of the couch, your frame still looming over hers. How had you come so close? "I like a good challenger."

"Don't blame me when you're stuck with me for hours."

"I don't tire easily."

Oh, how it made you shiver.

But in the end, you two soon forgot the concept of time. Hours slipped from your fingertips, breezing away as you whisked Brienne away into deep conversation. During the late hours, more patrons came in but you two were too occupied to bother with the world around you. Whenever you could not hear one another, either of you would move a little closer and at this point, your knees were already touching. You thought you were imagining things but you could see Brienne's cheeks flushing red every time you listened to her speak. The most obvious reason would be the ale but she had stopped bringing the mug to her lips just a few hours ago. Being the weakest drink, there was no chance that the knight was already tipsy. The other reason was delusional. The adoration in her eyes. It was similar to what you have seen before from your patrons under the influence of alcohol and lust.

Those hungry wide eyed men. This adoration was gentler and Brienne was watching you as if you were a gem. When she knew you were listening and acknowledging her every word, she would look down at her lap before meeting your eyes again to continue her story. An easy tell, but you found it adorable. From the night alone, you learnt a number about Brienne, mostly of her soldier days while she learnt about your interests outside of your work. The burning question had been the path that led you to this place but you promised that it was a story for another time which she took willingly.

You shared a good laugh, shared tales you had never told your peers and best of all, you earned the trust of the Lord Commander. It was far too surreal.

However, all good things came to an end but in this case, there were other times to continue. Tyrion and the others stumbled in Brienne's direction to pick her up as the night aged, bugging her to hurry up but she barely budged. With courage, you took her hands from her knees and gave them a squeeze.

"Visit me soon, will you?"

"Not here," Brienne whispered. "Perhaps some place else."

"I'll be waiting~"

As she got up, her hands did not leave yours until they slipped out of your grasp but she did not leave just yet. She stopped the group for a brief second to ask you one important question.

"So, whose company did I have the pleasure of having?"

Smiling, you bowed playfully. "[Y/N], at your service."

For the first time, Brienne gave you a full smile. "It was an honor to have your company, [Y/N]."

"And yours too, Lord Commander."

You saw her off at the door with her companions and waved them goodbye. What a strangely wonderful day it was. Meeting the Lord Commander and the rest of the Small Council. There was truly nothing that could top this day. Once they were out of sight, you retreated to your quarters, more ecstatic than ever before.

Brienne kept her composure until she arrived back at the castle. She was grateful for the candlelit hallways as they did not reveal secrets as much as the Sun did. In plain sight, she did not have to hide the reddening in her cheeks or bother if anyone saw her clutching her chest, over her rapidly beating heart. She looked more disturbed that stricken in the dark. She had always been known to dwell in moments she should leave behind but it was the moment that clung on to her that she could not shake off.

Thank the Gods that Tyrion and the others had disappeared somewhere at the courtyard. She could not bear to tolerate their humiliation as the events of the night played through her head.

The touch of your hand on hers when she had reached out to grab the jug to refill your drinks, the genuine kindness you had given to her and not a single lie in your sweet words. The suggestiveness in the phrases you would slip her by; she caught each one of them. In all disregard to masculinity and femininity, on a rare occasion such as this, she felt like a person.

She knew she would never get another chance at feeling so alive again, but now she knew a name to the face she would seek for in the city. Perhaps next time she would dare to do more and take the step forward. Maybe she would be the one to make the first move. Gods, what was she to do? So helplessly attached already to anyone who cared to give her a chance.

She needed it all again, even if you were just a friend in the dark. She had to have you.

TEENIE BONUS:

Weeks went by but the Lord Commander was not a distant memory. Some part of you hoped to see her one day but you knew that the chances were slim. After getting to know her from that one night, it was obvious that she was not the sort of woman one would find lingering in a place like this. You often saw the King's Hand as well as a few others in the Small Council. They would approach you occasionally to tease you about having the honor of the Lord Commander's company but other than that, there came no regards from the lady.

That was until you received news of a letter waiting for you in your shared quarters. The other girls were herded at your bed, sat around the envelope where it rested on your pillow. Letters from secret and not-so-subtle admirers were not uncommon but there had never been excitement in the room like this. Most letters would be thrown away but you soon came to understand why the girls were eager to see who it was from.

A wax seal.

Only a noble would use anything so grand to seal a slip of paper. It was bold too for a noble to be in contact with such a lowly person, and to make it clear it had been from them. At least it kept the letter out of the bin or away from prying eyes.

Upon studying the seal, there was a sigil you did not recognize. A smaller house of moons and suns. A smart move. With a sigil or not, the girls' patience ran thin and they beckoned you to open the letter. You felt like one of those pretty young girls in frilly dresses at a fancy sleepover, huddled up with your friends in a nice plush bed to open a letter from your secret admirer. This may be the only time you ever felt so childish and giddy. Without a moment to spare, you popped the seal open carefully to avoid damaging the paper and unfolded the letter.

The girls began to cry out, a flurry of questions hurtling at you as you struggled to read what was written. Reading alone was a tricky task and the commotion was no help at all. It was a short letter, thankfully, and a clear observation that you had made was that this was no ordinary letter. It was an invitation.

"What does it say?!" you heard.

"Who's it from??"

"Do you know them?!"

You shook your head as you read it out to them. "It's uh- It's an invitation to the Summer's Ball. And it's addressed to me." You pointed to what had been an empty space where your name was written. "There is an address to a dressmaker and a set time to go there."

"That's tomorrow!" a girl in the far back squealed.

"You must go!" another of the girls cried out. "This is an opportunity you can't miss!"

"But I haven't got much money to pay for a nice dress," you muttered as you tossed the invite into your drawer.

"Maybe the person who sent you this will meet you at the dressmaker? Your partner-to-be for the ball," another girl swooned.

"I could always stop by and see what happens."

"Yes! Then, you'll come to us and tell us all about it."

"Now, don't get jealous when I've gone to the ball with many stories to tell." You flopped onto your back and waved the girls off, sending them scurrying back to their beds now that the whole ordeal was over.

"Well, it depends on who this secret person is~" you heard someone hum.

"I'm sure it'll be someone absolutely fucking gorgeous," you mused.

"In your dreams you will!" The girls all scoffed and laughed as they settled into their beds.

They continued to shriek and giggle through the night like children while you found yourself sleeping with surprising ease. It was a dreamless sleep, one of the most peaceful rests you have had in a long while. It was possible that it had something to do with the secret sender of this invitation for only one person came to mind. Or rather, a few. The Hand of the King, who you were already acquainted with, would be considerate enough to invite you as a friend to see a certain someone again, and Ser Bronn, on the other hand, would invite you to jab at the Lord Commander. The Lord Commander herself sending the invitation was more of wishful thinking.

You had not heard a word from her but you remembered her words. Not here. Perhaps some place else. Was this it? Away from this hellhole and in the castle? It was far too much like a fairytale to believe in, but you wanted to see where this would take it.

You were ready to be faced with a brutal trick as soon as you left to find the dressmaker's shop. After all, no one in their right mind would bring a whore to a ball. You still dressed up for appearances were a selling trade to lure people into the brothel, but you could not help but feel uncomfortable in the clothes you worse so often.

What made your skin crawl even more under the summer sun was the sight of the dressmaker's shop. You were ready for humiliation, for the girls to be there to laugh at you for falling for something so stupid. For being so naïve.

As you trudged towards the shop, a person by the window caught your eye. You stopped in your stride to stare just for a moment to see if you were simply daydreaming, but for once, your eyes were not deceiving you. Speaking to the dressmaker was the Lord Commander herself. Free of her armor, she donned a lovely blue with a sigil sewn to her top. A sigil of moons and suns. The same one on the letter. You felt your heart skip a beat when she noticed you from where you stood, a smile gracing her lips. Before you could walk any further, she was already out the door, coming to meet you.

"I didn't think we'd meet again," you said with a laugh.

She bowed her head in greeting, her smile growing in the slightest. "I said we would meet some place else. And here we are." In the daylight, Brienne was drinking in the sight of you, your true self outside the silks and false glamor. "It's um... It's good to see you again."

[riverland-lesbian]

aging up show!Brienne had such potential because Bri is the way that she is because she hasn't been out in the world very long and hasn't had the chance to get to know people or have any realizations about herself. where would she end up, if she was able to run around being a hedge knight for long enough? would she be more confident or more of a pariah? would she have found a way to overcome her insecurities or would they have deepened? would her old traumas still be so significant or would they be replaced?

[spectrecure]

Brienne DESERVED this and I will die angry about it

[irreplaceable-ecstasyy]

a knight's sworn oath

REQUEST: You want Brienne asks? Say no more friend! Brienne reunites with a childhood friend (a lesser noble woman if it's easier to fandangle.) Reminiscing and thinking about old times stir feelings Brienne didn't expect, nor is she exactly equipped to handle the feelings of love that seem to grow with every meeting they now have.Bit of angst, awkward love confessions, maybe a bit of smut if you're up to it. Anything and everything you think up is appreciated! Cheers!

Word Count: 3678

[ I swear, these keep getting longer everytime I tell myself it's gonna be a short one.]

~

In great haste, the Lord Commander strode through the hallways with a letter clutched in hand, eyes trained on the stone path ahead. There was not a thought in her mind but a destination to get to. Someone to get to. Podrick had come to her during her break, to which she had responded with dismay for the disturbance, but the message he had relayed brought her to her feet in a heartbeat. She was not acquainted to visitors asking for her unless they were soldiers under her command or commanders of the other lands, and this name was not one she had expected to hear in all her years.

Hearing it from someone else's tongue was so entirely foreign to her, especially from someone who was not from Tarth. Her disbelief had nearly bested her hopes but with the letter that came with the news, she could trust that it was no hoax. As far as she was aware, Podrick was incapable of such a thing.

Taking a turn, Brienne found herself in the courtyard and her eyes found you. She froze and her grip tightened around the letter. It was difficult to process all of this. An old friend from home. How long had it been since she was there? Since she saw you? All the years between the time you had last seen one another seemed to vanish as she took in the sight of you, her shock soon softening into pure joy.

You knew she was arriving as her stride was not exactly the quietest in armor. The clanking, the heavy boots echoing through the corridor; while her height gave her a grace like no other, it did not help with stealth all too much. It was quite terrifying had you not known that she would be coming, but my goodness was she a sight for sore eyes.

She took careful steps towards you, almost bashful, but her composure was perfect. The composure of a lady but the rigidness of a knight. It suited her. The silence stretched as you continued to stare at her, and with the distance closed between the both of you, a strange tension thickened in the air. You bunched up your skirt into your hands to ease your excitement and bowed your head in greeting.

"Lord Commander."

Brienne followed, bowing her head in return. "[Y/N]..."

When she lifted her head, she swooped you up into her arms for a hug and you leapt right into her embrace. With your arms wrapped around her neck and her arms around your waist, you felt your feet lift from the ground and you failed you stifle your laughter. Brienne's sailed through the air, joining yours as you relished in the long overdue hug. Even when you pulled away, she did not return you to the ground. You sat there in her arms, carried as one would a babe, and her smile was absolutely dazzling.

"It's really you," she laughed breathlessly. "I thought Podrick was lying but here you are."

"Surprise~!" you beamed. "I had to come see you. Especially after hearing the news that someone changed history in Westeros. I had to congratulate you in person."

- "That's very kind of you... Thank you." She finally settled you down but her hands remained on your waist. Sighing, she gave you a gentle squeeze. "Last I saw you, you were..."

"In farmer's frocks?"

She snorted. "I was thinking of something kinder but yes, I suppose. But look at you."

You patted your skirt down and gave it a little twirl. "I had to look my best. Last I saw you, you were still in the dresses your father forced you into."

"That was a very long time ago."

"And now you're Lord Commander. It suits you."

"You've always been sweet with your words."

"But I only speak the truth."

Her mouth fell open to argue but only a sigh came out as her shoulders slouched. She shook her head lightly and lowered her gaze, her smile only growing. "You haven't changed at all. I've missed you."

"I've missed you too, Brienne. I haven't had anyone to drag around with me on the beaches," you chortled, and you felt your heart warm at the sound of her laugh.

"Gods bless any unfortunate soul who has to get dragged by you."

Unable to hold yourself back, you cupped her cheeks within her hands and gave them a little squish. The warmth on her cheeks reminded you that you were very much here. The summer was doing her well. The glow in her cheeks, the shine in her eyes. As beautiful as Tarth was, Brienne wore the sunlight of King's Landing better. The

You were in King's Landing, the very place you never thought you would set foot into for many reasons. One of which had been the war, but it was over. Making the trip had not been easy either with little money to book passage but a generous sponsor had brought you here. A certain Lannister of the Small Council who somehow found you through his little birds. He had disclosed limited information but it was enough for you to know the purpose of his scheme and the genuineness of it. It was a difficult offer to refuse for sure and so here you were, bringing a smile to the Lord Commander.

A small taste of home.

Being away from home by yourself was intimidating. Thankfully, the Hand of the King had been thoughtful enough to provide escort from the docks to the courtyard. Not that you doubted the man's kind-hearted nature, but to be surrounded by strangers in a land known for bloodshed, dragons and wars was not the most pleasant. Somehow, Brienne had managed all of it on her own but it was no surprise. After all, she was Brienne of Tarth, the first woman in all of Westerosi history to be knighted.

She snapped you out of your daze when she took your hand from her cheek and she began to drag you across the courtyard. "Let's not waste any time. Try to keep up. I wish to show you my new home."

You had never heard her sound prouder to show someone her own home. In Tarth, there was not once when she expressed pride for her homeland. Even though born and raised, there was no love in her for the Sapphire Isles, only horrid memories and a childhood of shame. You had seen some of the nightmares yourself, the torture she had to endure, and some you only heard through her tears. Here, there was not a shred of it.

She spoke about King's Landing with a passion in all of its good and bad times. From the people to every alleyway, she always had something nice to say. There was plenty that had changed in tradition and it was a culture shock for Tarth remained as it always had been. Ever so often, you would glance at Brienne as she told you of her tales in the past few years. The way she rambled on for anyone who would listen to her. You were all ears, but you had never seen her express her masculinity so openly. It was astounding. She had come so far, and there were no words that could describe how proud you were of her.

While you were only there on the journey for a little while, you had the privilege of watching her turn from a lady to ser. Living a life lesser of a noble, modesty and humility came easy. It was almost a gift in such a society and it was the very thing that won you the friendship of Brienne of Tarth all those years ago.

As you settled at the veranda of the castle with her after the tour, lunch already prepared at the Lord Commander's request, you two had a little trip down memory lane. You were careful of the memories to bring up but soon came to realize that she did not care for the embarrassment at all. She had a good laugh most of the way, even a good boisterous cackle. The memory she was most fond of was the one when you met. A typical memory to cherish but the encounter had been an interesting one.

You two could remember it clear as day, as if it had not been decades ago. Just yesterday. You had found her hiding away in the woods, armed with a wooden sword in garments that were far too unsuitable for training. It pained you to see someone fight in a corset and maneuver through the forest-y plains with a skirt that caught itself on every root in the ground. But somehow, she continued on. The skirt would rip when she spun to strike a tree then another, and the corset would click strangely as her frame fought against its restraints. You continued to watch her quietly, that was until she turned to point her sword at you.

Talking to her was like talking to a wall. She was stubborn, but for good reason. You had tried to reason with her that you had been watching out of admiration but she sneered at you with accusations of lies. You were patient with her and it took her a bit to warm up to you. How could she when everyone made a mockery of her? She made that clear but you were persistent. It was when you offered to swap clothes with her to ease the difficulties of training in a dress, she agreed and decided to let you stay. Though your clothes were slightly smaller on her, they worked better than the dress.

Brienne recalled the memory as fondly as you did. The funniest part was the fact that they had returned to their respective homes with their swapped attires. You had feared for your life that you may be charged with theft for wearing the Lady of Tarth's dress when your parents pointed out the change of clothes. When Brienne came to visit the next day to return your clothes, you had nearly refused to see her in case there were guards at her aid but how lovely she had been. Not only did she bring your clothes back, she brought a few new outfits as a token of her gratitude.

Had you not invited her in for tea that very day, you might never have been to each one of her tournaments or steal moments alone with her whenever you found her training in the woods again. Perhaps you would still be in Tarth going about your days in the market with a man laboring at work to keep the family afloat. The expected life of a commoner, one that you had managed to escape by a hair's breadth.

Here you were, laughing away at silly memories, arm-in-arm with Brienne who was leaning against you more than she was the veranda. You did not mind, but you were certainly worried about falling over and bringing her along with you.

With an arm somehow finding your waist, Brienne continued to speak fondly of a time when you fell into a river in an attempt to win a game of hide and seek. You were torn between laughing and snorting at the way she cackled, her laughter breaking her sentences to the point she would have to stop for a brief breather. This would have been a strange sight to any Westerosi person who knew the Lord Commander, but you knew her to be the girl in the woods. The one who was unafraid to be anything, especially being a great woman of mockery.

"You fell in after that too," you scoffed.

"Only to save you," she protested with a grin.

You gave her a nudge. "I was perfectly fine that day, thank you very much. You didn't have to be all knightly and save me."

"Well, you could say that you were the start of my little career here," she jested as she returned the nudge. "Would you like a 'thank you' instead?"

"That's more like it. I would appreciate it."

Brienne bowed playfully. "Fine then, thank you for letting me save you even though you were completely fine."

"You're most welcome, Ser." With a hand on your chest, you bowed, unable to hold back your laughter. "Now rise."

Brienne snickered lightly as she returned to her usual stature. For a second, you caught her smile wavering slightly but she masked it with a weaker one. She never was any good at hiding her emotions, tough as she was.

"When um- When are you leaving?" she asked, almost solemn.

"Not any time soon if that's what you're worried about," you answered as you rested your head against her arm. "Gonna miss me already?"

Brienne nodded. "When you leave, I won't know when I'll see you next."

"I can always write to you."

"I hardly trust ravens these days."

"Fair." You took her hands and gave them a squeeze before tugging at her so that she was facing you. "I'll be here for a while. So, why fret about it now? You might get sick of me really soon."

She gasped sharply and scowled. "I could never."

"How can you be so certain?"

"Because you've always been glued to my side since we met. You would expect that I'd be sick of you but it isn't the case at all."

"That's a relief to hear," you sighed jokingly, wiping your brow to add to the act.

"Did you think I would?"

You shrugged. "Maybe. You were a lady, now a knight. I'm still the same merchant I've always been. You must be surrounded by so many incredible people, I don't see how I could be any match."

"You'd be surprised," Brienne muttered. "I get sick of the lords easily. They're absolutely infuriating. Not everyone it awful but most I've met here... I cannot say the same for them."

"Then I'll try to distract you like how I did back home."

The glance she casted your way made you shiver just a little. Those gentle eyes. You had seen that gaze before. Long when you accompanied her through the town of Tarth, averting her attention away from the horrid boys who insulted her. Those trained eyes were so focused on your lips as you spoke to her over the rude remarks, it was like she was hypnotized.

There were no immature boys around you two but her eyes were on your lips. It was most definitely muscle memory, or a reminder.

"You don't have to..." she spoke slowly. "Having you here is enough."

"I can bore you with the gossips I've been hearing all over town," you continued. "Or about how much home has changed since you were last there. Or"-

You blabbered on, never quite running out of breath, and Brienne was simply enraptured by you. She had no care for whatever it was you were saying. She would if she could hear you over the rush of blood in her ears, the hammering in her heart underneath her chest plate. Reminiscing had brought back a lot of unspoken feelings as well as thoughts she had longed to express to you before she left. But none had left her lips that day except for a goodbye.

As much as she despised the life she had in Tarth, there were some bits of that life that she missed. Most of which involved meeting a certain irritating chatterbox who was right next to her, doing what they did best. She had never spent much time down memory lane and now that she was right in the middle of the meadow, she could remember so much more. The field she stood in now was a clear one, a time she could remember entirely, and there she was on one knee and her training sword at her feet. A mock oath.

When she was to set off to swear her services to others, she told you that when she became a Knight, she would swear to protect you. For your loyalty and friendship, servitude was all that she could offer in return. You had declined it, claiming that you did not require anything from her, only a visit if she remembered you but her stubbornness prevented her from yielding.

You were the only person who had ever accepted Brienne for what she was, somehow, and she still never understood why. Not that she dared to question it; she was grateful for it all. You blabbered a lot but there were still a few things she could never figure out about you.

Was it only servitude that she wanted to give? Or had it been something more? She never knew what love felt like, except for what she had had with Renly Baratheon. A foolish crush. With, she had never been more certain that this was what it felt like. When it began, she could not tell for her heart had always fluttered at the sight of you. What had sealed it for her was when you always came back to her no matter what. Even without a promise of return, you would come trotting up to her side whenever you could snatch a chance.

Snapping back into herself, she interjected, unaware that you were still talking. "Do you remember the day before I left?"

"Hm?"

"I made you a promise that I would vow to keep you safe as soon as I became a Knight."

"I do remember that."

Drawing her sword, she held it out with both hands. "I intend to keep that promise."

Taking a step back, she knelt down on one knee and laid the sword at your feet. "[Y/N], I offer my services to you," she began. "I will shield your back, and keep your counsel, and give my life for yours if need be. I swear it by the old gods and the new."

For once in your life, you were rendered speechless. You were startled that a knight of her standing, the Lord fucking Commander, was at your feet, swearing her services to you. Though you were friends, you now stood as a lady and knight. You knew the vow but your mind was not computing it right. The scripture was never meant for you. Your throat felt dry when you tried to speak, but you could not muster even a breath.

Brienne did not rise as the wait stretched. You wrung your hands and forced in a breath. "W"- You needed another breath. "Your services are sworn to the land. You can't swear to another."

"I'm the first woman who got knighted... I've changed history once, and under my own command as Lord Commander, I don't see why I can't offer my services to someone who I've always intended to protect."

"Are you sure?"

"I wouldn't be enduring this painfully numbing position if I wasn't."

Clearing your throat, you clasped your hands together firmly and recited the vow at the top of your head. " I vow that you shall always have a place by my hearth and meat and mead at my table, and pledge to ask no service of you that might bring you into dishonor. I swear it by the old gods and the new."

Brienne still did not rise but you could see a ghost of a smile on her lips. Carefully, you lowered yourself to kneel in front of her, reaching out to help her back on her feet, but you were met with her lips meeting yours. Your surprise made her draw away but before you could lose contact with her lips, you yanked at her armor to bring her back, greedy for more. In all your excitement, you had forgotten to breathe which forced you to pull away, panting.

"Is this part of the oath?" you asked with a breathless laugh.

Smiling, Brienne shook her head, pressing her forehead against yours. "As far as I'm aware, not at all."

You gave her a small peck. "Then let this be our vow."

Brienne's cheeks flushed a light pink. "You're sure?"

"I have never been more certain."

Fumbling to pick her sword up, she struggled to collect her thoughts. "If that is so, allow me to... extend the oath."

"Brienne..."

She helped you up on your feet, her hands now ungloved as she held yours. "I've never been more thankful to be graced by someone's very existence. You've stayed by my side longer than anyone ever has, and I will admit, my feelings have gotten the better of me."

"Must you be so formal with this?" you chuckled lightly.

"It seemed appropriate for the occasion. But what I am trying to say is, will you um... Will you have the honor of being my maiden?"

Unable to contain your excitement, you leapt right into the woman for a passionate kiss. The answer was enough. Brienne clung onto you with a newfound joy but there was sorrowful glint in her eyes as she buried her face in your shoulder, a poor attempt to conceal it. You did not have the heart to question it, not right now, but it did not stop you from offering some amount of comfort.

You worked to get one of your rings off your finger and without breaking the embrace, you pushed it into Brienne's palm, closing her fingers around it.

"Let this be a symbol of our oath. A promise band."

The love you had gained was something more for Brienne to lose. It was not a difficult riddle to guess, but you had just as much to lose as she did. There was nothing that could make you drift away from her; you were more confident than ever about that. If words would not prove their worth, then you would show it. Whether in letters or long and weary voyages, you would find a way.

The knight and maiden fair. What a song this would make.

[irreplaceable-ecstasyy]

beautiful undone

REQUEST: Hi! I have an idea. What if the reader was someone who heard tales of "Monstrous Brienne" or as she was mockingly called, "Brienne the Beauty". But when she finally puts a face to the name, she's all "Huh, she doesn't look that bad. She's actually quite handsome." Then decides to give Brienne a makeover to prove everyone wrong. Like longer styled hair, makeup, fitting dress, and even posture and smile. Like total Princess Diaries. Then when she's done people are all like" Who is this Goddess?!?!"

WORD COUNT: 3309 words

[Every time I try to make something a small one-shot, it ends up being longer than the previous one. oOOP- Anyway, enjoy <3]

Had you been deceived or had you been so stupidly foolish to listen to the harsh whispers in the street of the dreaded Brienne of Tarth? How they spoke of her as though she were a beast. 'Beware the Monstrous Brienne! She's a half-giant! If you anger her, she'll tear you apart.' or 'Brienne the Beauty! You'd scream at the sight of her.' There was not a person in Westeros who had ever said anything pleasant of the woman; it only made sense that the sayings were true. Whenever you walked in the streets, you would keep an eye out for her. You had always wanted to see her for you wondered how a lady could stir such a reputation for herself.

It was on a faithful day when you bumped into her at the marketplace. She was unmistakable. A tall looming woman clad in armor picking fruits for herself at a stall. You knew it was her from her height, one of a supposed half-giant as people said, and from the insults thrown at her. She was not bothered in the slightest by the yells and screams, but she turned to look at you when you found yourself suddenly right next to her. Your feet had carried you to her side to gawk and stare, wonder glimmering in your eyes.

The woman standing in front of you was unlike anyone you had ever seen. The monstrosity everyone saw in her simply did not exist. Beautiful was one way to describe her but a better term you might use was handsome. She was an incredibly handsome lady, and you were far too baffled to speak nor hear when she tried to talk to you.

"May I help you?" It was her third time repeating herself, and her patience was slowly running thin.

Snapping out of your daze, you offered your best smile. "I apologize if I'm interrupting your day but I just wanted to meet you."

"Meet me?" she questioned. "What for?"

"I was curious. I've only ever heard about you," you admitted, and you saw how her face twisted.

"I see," she muttered. "Now that you have, we can get on with our lives." With that, she turned away and you felt your stomach turn. The rumors. What a horrible impression to turn up with.

Before she could walk away, you scampered to her, struggling to keep up with her pace. "No, wait! I apologize if it came off as offensive. I didn't mean for it to sound like I believed the rumors!"

"I understand," she spoke stiffly, not quite breaking her stride.

"No, you don't. Will you let me explain myself?"

"There's no need for that, thank you very much. I must be on my way, and you should too."

"But Ser-!"

"Goodbye."

Picking up your legs, you managed to get in her way, arms spread out to stop her. She stopped in her tracks and stared at you incredulously. If there was one thing to fear about Brienne of Tarth, it was the intensity of her glare. You could feel your heart starting to race in your chest, but you held your ground. If she was not going to listen to an apology, you had to think of something else close to it. You could not let her go with the thought that you were just another person out of thousands who wished to make a mockery of her. But what could be worth more than an apology?

"Will you just hear me out?"

"I already am, so you had better use this time wisely, young one."

"I want to dress you." The words came out faster than your mind ran, but you were confident. Your family dabbled in tailoring, and your sense of style came from observations among the crowds at events. If anything, observation was your strongest weapon and you intended to use it if the lady would allow you to.

Her glare did not waver but there was a brief moment of conflict in her gaze. "And why would I allow you?"

"In all honesty, I don't know. Maybe I want to prove people wrong about you because now I know that everyone's spreading bullshit about you," you admitted.

That was when her features softened, but she was still wary of you. "If you're going to parade me in a dress in front of everyone, you can forget it."

"I don't just shove people into a dress," you interjected. "I make sure it's right for them. You don't fit people into a dress. You fit the dress onto them."

Brienne was slightly taken aback but she was listening properly. "You seem to know what you're talking about."

"My family runs one of the tailor shops. I don't do the sewing but I certainly know how to find a person's style."

Silence passed over the two of you as Brienne spared some time to consider your offer. With the way she had frozen in a pose to think, you could already picture the perfect look for her. A hand on her hip, the other holding onto a basket of fruits, her frame tall and proud. You wanted nothing more than to show everyone that Brienne was no beast of a woman. People always talked. They loved their gossip more than anything and though it was not in your power to stop them, you could put a halt to it by making a statement instead.

You waited in anticipation, your nerves flaring by the minute. Denying you was the worst scenario and you could be on your way but you knew the thought of her would never leave you. No one ever spoke of her inability to carry out her duties, but no one ever gave her the credit she deserved either. You had to do something.

Finally coming to a conclusion, she looked at you sternly. "There's a small celebration coming soon, as you may know..."

"The Winter Solstice, yes."

Brienne nodded. "The Longest Night. You can do it then."

"I'd be honored to."

"It's in a week. Will that be enough time for you to prepare?"

"Of course. We happen to be very efficient," you grinned at her. "I will ask, is there anything I must know before I start designing?"

"Nothing pink and frilly," she answered a little too quickly, but you made sure to take note of it. "Will you run the designs by me?"

"You'll have to see during the fitting." You were already scribbling away at a scrap of parchment you had brought with you.

"And what if I don't fancy the dress you've made?" Brienne prodded.

"Then you'll have to give us your feedback to make necessary changes."

She raised a brow. "Will it not delay us?"

"Not at all. You can come early. Perhaps noon. It will give us more than enough time to prepare you." When you looked up from your notes, Brienne was merely a few inches away from you, eyes bearing into yours. A trial of trust.

"Then I'll see you at noon," she spoke slowly. "I look forward to seeing your work."

"Don't be late."

"You humor me, young one. I will have transport sent for you so don't be late."

"Will you let me do your hair too?"

A pause. "Fine."

You saluted playfully as you stepped out of her way. Much to your surprise, she bowed to you and went on her way. Pausing midway, she turned around, a sudden realization dawning on her.

"I didn't get your name."

"I quite like 'young one'."

Taken aback, she nodded slightly. "If that is what you insist."

Bowing once more, she turned on her heel and proceeded on her way. You observed how she walked with a certain elegance to her. Had it not been for the armor, she would be a little less stiff. It would be liberating to get the weight off her, you could only imagine. No corset then, or any sort of rigid support. You scribbled the notes onto your scrap.

You watched as she disappeared into the crowd, and the bubbling excitement that had been blossoming inside of you exploded. You did not realize how stunned you were by her natural beauty. Without a woman's conventional use of make-up, she was still a sight for sore eyes, and you may well pass out knowing what wonders a bit of make-up could do for her. Her hair was another exciting part to think about. Slicked back or messy tendrils, she could wear any look and it would still go with what you already had in your mind. The thrill was exhilarating and you rushed home to get started on it.

Having consulted your parents, you began your masterpiece with their guidance. They would be the ones making the dress so they followed you through each step of the way. As for the other details that came with it, you knew enough people who could be of assistance. No one questioned who the dress was for which made the job easier throughout the week. Whenever someone dared, privacy was the golden answer.

Day and night, you toiled away with needle and thread, running on a few hours of sleep. Somehow, you could still work your magic. With assistance from your family, your project was soon complete in just a few days, leaving two days to spare to run through the details and consider last minute ideas. You had to find some way to occupy your time while you waited for the knight's visit or you might crash with all the energy coursing through you. But thankfully, the day came quick.

Now, had it been energy keeping you awake or anxiety? You could not tell, but you had not a moment to think about it for the carriage was already waiting for you outside. The ride to the castle was pleasant but your stomach was turning. It did not take long until you arrived and a guard led you straight to the lady's quarters.

A knock on the door and you were welcomed inside. Today, Brienne had decided on a casual outfit instead of donning her armor. Her hair was slicked back but there were a few stray strands over her eyes. She studied the shop with such elegance, it made you feel rather small to be in the presence of someone so majestic.

A cough was what caught her attention as you forced down the last of your worries and she greeted you with concern. "Are you alright?"

You waved a hand at her. "I'm alright, I'm alright." With that out of the way, you graced her with a smile. "I'm here!"

"That you are."

"Shall we get started?" you beamed. "I won't keep you waiting any longer." Motioning for her to follow you, you trotted into another room with the knight at your heels.

Her quarters were simple. Not bare but well decorated enough to be cozy. Simplistic was certainly Brienne's own preference, and you found that it gave you room to breathe. There was a good amount of sunlight and a perfect view of King's Landing from the window. It all felt like a dream. The room you had walked into was her own personal bathroom and you draped the dress over a rail for what you could only assume was for robes and towels.

"You can put it on in here. I'll lace it up once you're done."

You exited the room in a hurry and closed the door behind you. There was a tense silence in the air, only filled by the ruffle of clothes and possibly your heartbeat. You could hear it hammer in your ears as the door swung open and out came Brienne with a pinch of worry.

You noticed that she was avoiding the mirror for her eyes sought for something to stare at as a distraction while she steered herself to stand with her undone laces facing you. You weaved them with trained hands, and when you were done, you continued to style he rest of her. From her hair to her face, you were too focused to realize that her attention had shifted from the wall to you as her distraction.

Her anxiety was crunching but she was grateful that you seemed to have taken no notice of it. Her hands were balled into tight fists, nails digging into her palms to get a hold of herself. She maintained all composure to calm herself. She could be making a fool of herself all over again for taking this chance, for trusting you. But, wthat sort of a knight was she if she were not taking risks? She had taken more life-threatening jobs than go through embarrassing situations. It felt ridiculous even anticipating the terrors of humiliation.

The intensity of your attention and commitment to every detail was comforting, in a sense. No person would waste away their time on another just to make a fool of out of them, right? She eased herself with her breaths, letting her mind empty itself while she focused on you. On the way your lip would curl when you felt triumphant, on the way your brows knitted when you were focused, on the scrunch of your nose as you contemplated. It calmed her down.

What was hours had only felt like minutes and you were done. You maneuvered yourself in front of her to take a look at her. The masterpiece and the dress.

She donned a high collared dark blue velvet dress that reached down to her feet, long sleeves cuffed at her wrists, and no corset but a belt that wrapped around her waist. The belt was embroidered with the symbols of her house, and within its center was the Stark's sigil, for the house she honored. Her hair was curled instead of gelled back, but there was just a bit of gel to maintain the curls through the night. You were not finished just yet. There was still a trick or two up your sleeve but you needed just brief second to see all of Brienne. Giddily, you touched her chin gently, a brush in hand.

"Lower your head a little," you murmured as you assessed the details of your design.

"I'm sure you aren't that short."

"I'm trying to get the light."

And so, she adjusted herself. "How much longer?"

"Only a touch bit..." you hummed. With a few strokes of your brush, you added your finishing touches. "And there."

A beat.

"You can look in the mirror, my Lady."

She looked at you, frozen in place. Taking her hand, you led her to the mirror at the back of the room. She did not look until you stopped, and when she did, she stared at her reflection. That person... That very lady she was looking at was herself. She moved a hand to her cheek as if to check that it was no illusion and when the truth of the situation sank in, you saw her bottom lip quiver.

"I... I look--"

"Beautiful."

She looked at you, eyes glittering in tears, but her blank stare never changed. "I've never felt this way... I.. I don't know how to thank you."

"There's nothing to thank me for. It's all you. All I did was style you up."

"No, you haven't." She wiped her tears away delicately to prevent herself from smudging your art. "In Tarth, I would be fitted into what they deemed the prettiest dresses, be made to look like the picture perfect woman to whosever standard it was... but none of that ever made me feel beautiful. You made me feel more of a lady than I've ever been."

"I often go by the philosophy, 'if you can't fit in, then stand out'. You don't have to look like the other hundred women in the room."

"I'll have to think the way you do more often," she laughed lightly as she continued to dab away her tears.

"I tend to be wise." Your eyes lit up when you spotted a box sitting on your desk and you leapt straight to it. "One last thing."

You brought it over to her and set it on the floor before opening it to reveal a silver wreath of vines with a moon and sun bloomed in the center. You had it made on the day you met her as it was the first idea that sparked in your head for your design. It was simple but it completed the rest of the look. Awestricken, Brienne stared at it and you had to beckon her to lower her head for you to put it on her, like a crowning. It sat atop of her curls, a perfect fit, and she straightened herself right up to look at herself once more.

"It's beautiful."

"Just a finishing touch."

She peered closer in the mirror, fingers running along the lining of her wreath. "I look like one of them."

"Who?"

"The Lords and Ladies. I'm a proper Lady."

"You always were, and still are. With or without the dress."

Brienne looked as if she might faint with how overwhelmed with joy she was but she could only bask in it for so long now that the evening was drawing near. A knight had her duties but at least she was dressed for the occasion. You accompanied her to the door but she did not leave. She had taken ahold of both your hands, her anxiousness returning to her. She would have to face the world in the clothes that made her a ridicule, all on her own. With a few words, her confidence may crumble and she would lose all respect for the knight she was.

Not a lady nor a knight, who else could she be?

She breathed sharply when you drew her into an embrace. "Don't forget to smile."

Laughing softly, she wrapped her arms around you loosely and patted your shoulders. "You are starting to sound like a mother."

You pushed her away lightly and crossed your arms. "Come on."

Sighing, she put on a small smile. "There."

"And there we are..."

The words came quick but she could not hold it in anymore. One second more and she would have doubted herself. "Come with me."

You gave her a look, stumbling back in surprise. "I couldn't possibly! I'm not dressed for it."

"Then stand out." She extended a hand to you. She had used your own words against you.

You stayed true to your philosophy and took the hand proudly. If she was going to brave her fears, it was a good example to follow your own advice. The walk to the ballroom was long but it gave you enough time to muster every ounce of courage in your body to take in the crowd of thousands in the room. You slipped your arm through Brienne's to secure yourself to her as she led you through. As much of a social butterfly you were, you were not willing to get lost in a crowd of strangers, let alone nobles who had the personalities of feral animals, waiting to strike any commoner down.

Heads turned to look your way but their eyes were not on you. They were on Brienne. She towered over most and she met eye-to-eye with a few men who met her stature. There was not an insult in the room, only gaping jaws and astonishment as they came to realize who it was at your arm. Some lords took the initiative to greet Brienne a good evening and compliment her before ladies started following after. A smile looked bright on Brienne but pure happiness looked radiant on her.

Maybe Brienne the Beauty had always been the truth, and you were honored to be the one who uncovered it.

[irreplaceable-ecstasyy]

The Bitter Cold

For your Brienne request, how about something that takes place after Jammie left in season 8 with reader finding and comforting Brienne etc etc? - from @emilynissangtr

Wordcount: 2154

[Thank you for this one <3 I'm pretty sure quite a number of us have imagined jumping through the screen to comfort her. :( ]

The sound of hooves thundered in the winter silence, long enough to drown out the sobs of a woman for a moment until it was the only thing that filled the stiff air. Another heartbreak. You had seen it all before at the bar you used to work at, long before the wars, where men and women alike were either the victim or guilty of heartbreaks. Had you paid any less mind to the scene, you would have walked off to your quarters in peace but you found your feet planted to the ground. The man who had ridden off at this ungodly hour of the night had been Jaime Lannister. As for the heartbroken figure left to weep in the bitter snow, her tall frame was unmistakable. Ser Brienne of Tarth.

You had never seen her cry before nor had you seen an ounce of emotion from the woman other than her scowl. You were acquainted with her at most from the day she arrived at Winterfell with her squire for everyone had been called to train in the fields for the war. Some part of you had always been infatuated by her, mostly from the stories you had heard of the woman knight. Her bravery, her skills; she was an absolute daydream. Were it not for the war, she would have occupied her thoughts. You had seen her compassion and the raging fire in her eyes that you thought would be entirely impossible to snuff out. But here you were at her worst, the fire barely flickering in her tearful gaze.

Her sobs wracked through her and you could see how she shuddered so violently. Then it clicked that it may well be the cold biting into her skin. Anyone would be mad to wander into the snow with only a robe on, and madder to remain in the cold numb the pain of the heartache. Watching her was enough to make you feel like you were freezing under all your layers, and you were not heartless enough to leave her there. Tugging off your cloak, you hasted over to her and, in your best attempts, you tossed your cloak over her shoulders.

"You'll catch your death out here."

"Then leave me be. . ."

She refused to meet your gaze when you stared up at her. Her eyes were fixed on her feet to save herself the humiliation of tear-stained cheeks. Hide the evidence of this stupidity. Knotting the string of the cloak with a sense of finality, you took her by the arm with no room to argue. You were already walking.

"One man isn't the end of the world. Come on."

Reluctantly, she obeyed. For a woman so stoic, she still listened so easily. A soldier's instinct, perhaps. With Brienne trailing behind you, you ushered her back to her quarters quietly. You did not need anyone waking up with a hundred questions to pick at the woman's remaining sanity. The room greeted you with a dimming glow at the hearth and a pleasant warmth. At least you won't have much to fuss over. You sat the still-weeping knight on a chair in front of the fireplace and went to attend to the fire, feeding it with more timber. Her sniffling said enough that she was already calming down, much to your relief, or it may be because she had no more tears to weep. Did soldiers cry as regular folk would?

Too many questions.

You had the fire roaring once more and heat began to pool into the room, soaking you up in its comfort. Turning to Brienne, you were surprised that she had lifted her head to stare into the flames, unbothered by the tears that spilled from her cheeks. Now that she was away from the public eye, it did not hurt to lose what little dignity she had lost since the moment you saw her out there. With no napkin, you dried her tears away with your sleeves, cheeks cupped delicately within your hands.

She pushed your hands away when the tears finally stopped, but you were not ready to leave just yet. Getting comfortable on the carpet, you took a seat on the floor beside her. You could not find it in you to leave her by herself. The crackling of the flames was brought you and Brienne some sense of serenity, but it was prodding at the awkward tension in the air. Neither of you spoke, but from the way Brienne's exhaled heavily, there was something at the tip of her tongue.

"I... I fear he may never come back," she murmured under her breath.

"That's what happens in wars... People leave and we're left to pray," you answered. "Shouldn't we hope that they will return?"

Scoffing, Brienne casted her usual scowl at you. "It isn't just the war"- She considered her words carefully before settling angrily with, "What do you know of wars anyway?"

You shook you head dejectedly and turned away. "You're right. I know nothing, especially when I have nothing to lose. And I know Ser Jaime's gone back to his sister."

"That's where his heart lies. Who am I to take that away from her?"

"Queen Cersei is his family. You would return to your family in Tarth if you knew of the dangers that would be upon them, wouldn't you?" you tried to rationalize. "Have you no hope that he might come back at all?"

Brienne was often sensible but in her flurry of emotions, she could not bear to listen to your reasoning. Her cheeks were red, her stare intense as if she might explode at any moment. The tears had gone so quickly.

"The more you hope, the higher you expect, and the higher you go, the harder you fall. You'd be foolish to fall into such a trap," Brienne snapped, but her face fell. "I've lived on false hope before. Never again. I just can't..."

There was a part of you that wished you knew Brienne better. In one sitting, you were learning more about her than the few months you had been training under her command. The wall she had built around herself was to protect the little girl she once was, the girl who was never given the fair life of ladyship for how she looked. Stubborn as a mule. You wondered just how much she had to endure to become so numbed and yet so bottled up.

Comfort was not your strongest suit, let alone with a person you barely knew. Lending a listening ear seemed to be enough for Brienne took a breather to get a hold of herself. Tears threatened to spill again but you sat up on your knees to reach her, brushing them away with your thumbs. You did not miss the way she leaned into the contact and lingered there until you withdrew your hands. Your palms were burning.

"He's all I have," she managed in a hoarse whisper. All I have at love.

"That's a lie."

She rolled her eyes. "Spoken like a person who gets to choose."

"Enough." You stood up in front of her, but somehow she could still meet you at eye level when seated. You mustered your courage. "You give yourself a lot less credit than you deserve. If you managed to swoon Jaime Lannister, you might as well be unstoppable."

"And yet no one is willing to give me a chance like he did."

"It's their fault that their missing out."

"Missing out on what?" Brienne laughed pathetically. "A beast of a woman? A thing whose etiquette compares to a bear's? Humiliating me for everyone to see?!" She went on, and each addition to the list made your stomach twist painfully.

Unable to handle any more, you clamped a hand over her mouth, the other squeezing her own tightly. "They're missing out on someone who has so much give. As soon as someone gives a shit about the way you should look or behave because you're a woman, they're worthless. Who are they to define your worth because of how womanly you are?"

She stared at you with wide eyes and when you removed your hand, she was gaping at you. She wanted to argue against your rambling but not a word slipped from her lips. With pursed lips, she gripped your hand tightly, unsure of how to accept what had been a praise or more, acceptance. No one had ever raised their voice to express their praises. Most of the time, when a person yelled at her, it was either a command or a jeer. Brienne the Beauty. The thought of the nickname made her grimace.

You, on the other hand, were not nearly done yet. You dove head first into your thoughts and they were all coming out at full force, every bit of it a truth that Brienne needed to hear.

"That's what Ser Jaime saw in you. It's a miracle how you changed that dense lump of muscle but you did it anyway. He will come back for you when it's all over. Even if he doesn't, you will find someone who might appreciate you even more. So, if you still think me delusional for believing that people are missing out and that you won't get another chance, think again."

Her disbelief was clear but her hand stayed in yours. "You say such things... Things I wish were truer, but look at the state we live in. I don't need your pity to make me feel better, [Y/N]."

She remembered your name. It did wonders to your heart but you were too focused on your current objective. "I'm not saying this out of pity. I'm telling you everything that's been on my mind since I was told about you."

That knocked the wind out of her, humiliation settling in. "From who...?"

"It doesn't matter. What does is that I've wanted to say all these things to you because you deserve to hear it from someone. It's evident that no one has from the way you're reacting. So, there you go."

Working at a bar did not prepare you to comfort others but if there was one thing you were darn good at, it was telling people the truth in their faces. You told off drunken people who needed to be humbled, lifted those who were drinking their sorrows away and spouted facts that people needed to hear rather than what they wanted. Right now, you were doing the same for Brienne, whether she was willing to take it or not. There was not a confrontation that had ever gotten you as emotional as you were now, but that could only mean one thing. You were attached to her. You cared. There was no lie there for you.

Brienne saw the way you dropped your eyes to the floor, left with nothing more to say. Her silence did not help the case but what more was there to say when you had said everything? Even her sharp wit had no retort to defend herself. She mistook your conflict for defeat and it seemed as though she appeared ungrateful. With the hand she was still holding, she pulled you close and enveloped you in an embrace. Gentle words were not her strength either but a hug was well needed for the both of you which she delivered.

You rested your head upon hers and sighed softly. This would suffice. It meant you did something right since you were still here and not outside. Neither of you wanted to let go. Brienne had already gotten comfortable resting against you, her head tuck snugly against your chest while your arms were wrapped around her neck in a half cradle. This was... nice. Running your fingers through her hair, you spoke once more.

"I can't promise you that he will return but what I can give you is my company. My friendship. Even if you don't accept, there are still so many others around you who care for you. You are not alone," you reminded her firmly.

Shutting her eyes, Brienne nodded, her embrace tightening around you. "Thank you..."

You stayed there for what felt like hours but you could go on for days if you had to. The fire was already flickering and it pained you to part from the hug to replenish the firewood. Where her arms had been around your waist was burning hot from her touch, a sensation you had never felt before but it was not at all unpleasant. You basked in it while you could. It was too late to dwell any longer for the Knelt in front of the fireplace, Brienne rose from the chair to stand beside you while you did the work.

"Will you stay?" she whispered.

You felt your heart skipped a beat but you managed to muster a smile. "If my commander wishes."

[irreplaceable-ecstasyy]

"All my life men like you have sneered at me, and all my life I've been knocking men like you into the dust." - Brienne of Tarth 🗡

[Click for better resolution <3]

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About damn time I sat down to draw & of course, I had to draw Brienne. 👁👁 Lucifer might be next. Can you tell I love Gwendoline Christie?