#brienne of tarth makes my heart sing

[captainelliecomb]

Wow, it's hard to choose for me 😍

Can I ask more than one? I mean, about the endless (😭😭😭 crux et delicia) WIP list. By now, Brienne's mother is Dornish please 🙏

Of course you can ask for more than one! I'm delighted you find them interesting.

More from the Endless Works in Progress list. This one leans more toward book canon than show canon, not that it matters much because I played fast and loose with the ages and it starts before Robert's Rebellion.

Brienne's mother survives a fraught birth that ended with Alysanne and Arianne dying. She's weak and heartbroken, but fights to live for Galladon and Brienne.

When Galladon dies, she can't stand to remain on Tarth. Takes Brienne to Dorne, back to her family. Selwyn appoints a castellan and goes with them in the beginning, though he returns to Tarth regularly.

Brienne grows up in Dorne with a mother, and female cousins, and no Septa Roelle. Life is easier for her, though she is still ugly, and large, and strong, so some mockery occurs. Enough so that she worries she is neither the son nor the daughter her father deserves, the heir Tarth needs.

To avoid being sent back to Tarth, she tries to swear her sword to Princess Elia. Instead, Elia takes her to King's Landing as one of her ladies, though a lady who is also a fighter, a protector.

King's Landing is terrible, the Kingsguard do nothing as Aerys becomes more horrific, Brienne and Jaime bond over being young and idealistic, and wanting to be knights from the songs, and how trapped they feel.

As a lady who is also a fighter, a protector, she is there with Elia, Rhaenys, and Aegon when the Lannisters sack King's Landing.

Here's a bit from the beginning:

Brienne Tarth’s second clearest memory of her childhood included her older brother, Galladon. They sat together at the top of their second favourite cliff, legs dangling. It was night, dark and moonless, and stars spilled across the sky. Below them, waves hit the rocks in a steady, soothing rhythm.

Their favourite cliff was safe for jumping, it did not have the same rocks stabbing out of the water at its base, and Brienne loved to sit on the small beach next to it while Galladon climbed and jumped and climbed again, but it was close to Evenfall. Too close.

“The water loves us,” Galladon said. 

She was young, not quite four, too young to be out so late, but no one paid any attention to them that night. Not with their mother near death in the birthing bed, and two babies actually dead in their crib. 

“We are Tarth,” he added, “and the water is ours. Listen to it call to us. Listen to it sing its love.”

Brienne loved her brother with every beat of her young heart, every breath in her strong lungs. She leant against his side and listened to the water. Listened for a love song beneath the steady crash of waves.

Tarths were kings and queens once, born of their storm gods, and that blood, briny like saltwater and wild like a storm, flowed through their veins.

“It is ours, Brienne.” His voice shook. “It is ours, and that will never change.”

Brienne Tarth’s first clearest memory included her older brother, Galladon. 

She stood on the beach. He was in the water.

The small spit of sand where she stood was near their favourite cliff. They had jumped five times each without a care for any danger. Brienne was nearly five, and she had only started jumping a few moon turns ago. The first afternoon they’d stolen away together, she’d clung to his hand, hard, and only jumped twice.

She was tired, and her arms and legs ached. She had blisters from the wooden sword Galladon had her use early each morning before they broke their fast, and the seawater stung them. Her hair had come loose from its braid and was matted against her head. 

She was tired, too tired to climb again, but Galladon wanted to jump just once more. She picked at shells while he climbed, stared up at him when he shouted her name, cheered when he jumped, bellowing as he fell, and cheered again when he hit the water.

The wind was strong off the water. The sky was clear, the water very blue, but the air shivered with the promise of danger, of a building storm.

She stood on the beach. Galladon was in the water.

She staggered forward three steps. Galladon was in the water.

She stumbled as a wave sucked sand from beneath her feet. Galladon was in the water.

Brienne stood in the surf, water beating against her bare legs, the water into which Galladon had disappeared, and screamed and begged.

It was for naught, her screaming, her begging, the servants who came running, who plunged into the sea and brought Galladon’s body back, cold and pale, his eyes wide open, his mouth open, his chest still.

The water wanted Galladon, and it took him. The water was theirs, but that meant they were the water’s, too. The water loved them, but that love was a terrifying, selfish thing.

“He’s my brother,” she sobbed and sobbed, “I love him, give him back.”

The water loved her, and listened, but did not care.

Tarths were born of their storm gods, wild and salt-burned and free, but dragons burned, and stars fell, and gods died.

[makemyworldworthliving]

Always

Brienne of Tarth x reader

Warnings: 18+!! Smut!!

It was a typical Wednesday night at your local, the same faces, the same sounds, the same amount of drink flowing. You spent most of your evenings here, not being able to stand being in your fathers presence. You were not the daughter he wanted, in fact he wanted no daughter at all. He wanted a son, and for that, you felt, he despised you.

You were to marry a wealthy man, you came from a poor family but your father had many connections. You sighed as you sipped your wine, sat alone, as usual. You watched the drunken men sing, and laughed silently to yourself. Oh to be free, you thought. To not have a single care in the world…

Just as you were about to finish your wine and leave, the door opened. You looked up and your eyes widened. Stood before you was the most interestingly beautiful woman you had ever seen. Her skin was pale, like porcelain. Her eyes like a deep blue ocean. She looked around, obviously feeling out of place and uncomfortable. Before you knew it you were stood up, approaching her. As you stood by her side you looked up at her, hesitant on what to say.

‘’Hi.. sorry, I hope you don’t mind me coming over I just.. you looked like you could use a friendly face’’ you smile at the tall woman. She frowns as she looks down at you, and your heart sinks a little. ‘’I didn’t mean to intrude, I-‘’ you decide it’s best to stop speaking and you walk back over to your table, cursing yourself. A few moments later the tall woman sits down opposite you with a drink in her hand, she stares at you as she slowly drinks. You look down at your hands and start to twiddle your fingers, suddenly feeling very anxious with the beautiful woman’s eyes on you.

‘’My lady, if you don’t mind me asking, why are you drinking here alone?’’ She asks you as she places her drink down, her eyes never leaving yours.

‘’I always drink here alone, I certainly don’t want the company of any of those men.’’ You share a laugh and your stomach starts doing flips when you see her smile. She leans back in her chair, before running her hands through her short blond hair.

‘’My name is Brienne. It’s nice to meet you…?’’

‘’Y/N.’’ You shake hands and exchange pleasantries with each other for a couple more hours, the wine and the conversation flowing freely. Once the bartender has asked you both to leave as it’s closing time, Brienne insists on walking you home. You head out together, taking a slow walk through the forest.

‘’You know, I really wish I wasn’t going home.’’ You sigh as you link your arm with hers.

‘’What makes you say that, my lady?’’

You laugh and stop in your tracks. ‘’Brienne please call me y/n. I’m no lady… not really anyway.’’ You lock your eyes with hers, and she steps closer to you, wanting to learn more about you. ‘’My father wants me to marry a wealthy man, to have babies and not be an embarrassment to him anymore. But to be honest with you, Brienne… I don’t even like men.’’ You chuckle and cover your mouth, clearly the wine has increased your confidence. ‘’I shouldn’t have told you that… I haven’t told anyone that… please don’t say anything! I know it’s wrong but I just-‘’ before you can finish your sentence Brienne’s lips crash into yours in a passionate, desperate, needy kiss. After kissing for a few seconds you pull back, your body still pressed against hers.

‘’Y/N.. I don’t like men, either.’’ You both share a laugh and she kisses you softly. ‘’Can I take you home?’’ She asks against your lips. You bite your lip and not enthusiastically.

-

Once you’re both back at Briennes home, you both begin tearing each others clothes off, leaving you both bare. She stares at your body in amazement and you blush slightly before laying on her bed, spreading your legs for her. Brienne crawls onto the bed, towering over you. She begins kissing your jaw, then your neck, before finally getting to your breasts. She licks and sucks at your right nipple and as you moan you grip her hair, needing more of her by the second. She comes up to kiss you before kissing her way down your body, pressing loving kisses to your stomach, your thighs, and stopping at your wet cunt.

You sit up on your elbows and look down at Brienne who is quite clearly very nervous. You smile and lift her chin up so she’s looking at you. ‘’Are you okay?’’ You ask. She nods and blushes. ‘’I’ve… never done this before.’’ Brienne admits as she blushes even harder. You sit up and cup her cheeks, kissing her softly. ‘’Just eat my pussy like you’re starving.’’ You practically moan the words against her mouth, and this is enough to give Brienne the confidence she needed, as she pushes you back onto the bed and starts lapping her tongue against your cunt like someone who hasn’t eaten in weeks. You moan loudly as you grind yourself against her tongue, your hands gripping the bedsheet. Brienne stops for a moment to suck her fingers to get them nice and wet before slowly starting to fuck you as her tongue still explores your clit.

You scream her name as you reach your climax and cum all over her fingers and mouth, your body shaking with pleasure. You manage to sit up and flip you both over, your body now hovering above hers. Your mouth worships her body with kisses and when you finally reach her cunt you slide your tongue deep inside her causing the beautiful tall blonde to jolt with pleasure. You fuck her with your tongue as your fingers work her clit, and the room is filled with the beautiful sounds of her moans, which you never want to stop hearing. Brienne orgasms and her back arches but you make sure to not break contact with her body.

After you’ve both come down from your high you lay in each others arms. Brienne looks at you and tucks your hair behind your ear.

‘’Stay with me. Please’’ her words warm your heart and you kiss her passionately.

‘’I’ll stay with you, Brienne. Always.’’

(This is my first time writing about Brienne so any feed back will be appreciated 🥰)

@gwenswifeyfr

[yourlocaldisneyvillain]

Can you write something about being just too gay to function bc of Brienne’s hands? Tysm!

tw: tooth-rotting fluff :)

ser brienne of tarth x princess! reader

please don't hesitate to leave me a comment if you feel so inclined -- it makes my heart sing <3

[istumpysk]

Operation Stumpy Re-Read

ASOS: Jaime I (Chapter 1)

Look who I get to make fun of now.

An east wind blew through his tangled hair, as soft and fragrant as Cersei's fingers. He could hear birds singing, and feel the river moving beneath the boat as the sweep of the oars sent them toward the pale pink dawn. After so long in darkness, the world was so sweet that Jaime Lannister felt dizzy. I am alive, and drunk on sunlight.

It's going to be so funny when she rejects him.

+.+.+

Ser Cleos fretted. "Cousin, remember your courtesies."

The Lannister blood runs thin in this one. Cleos was his Aunt Genna's son by that dullard Emmon Frey, who had lived in terror of Lord Tywin Lannister since the day he wed his sister. When Lord Walder Frey had brought the Twins into the war on the side of Riverrun, Ser Emmon had chosen his wife's allegiance over his father's. Casterly Rock got the worst of that bargain, Jaime reflected.

I have a conspiracy theory:

George created this Lannister-Frey marriage to establish a historical tie between both houses, but in the process forgot it's absurd that a first daughter of House Lannister marry a Frey that isn't even heir.

He then realized his massive blunder, and invented the Genna/Emmon backstory in AFFC.

+.+.+

She had laid the point of the big wench's sword against his heart and said, "Swear that you will never again take up arms against Stark nor Tully. Swear that you will compel your brother to honor his pledge to return my daughters safe and unharmed. Swear on your honor as a knight, on your honor as a Lannister, on your honor as a Sworn Brother of the Kingsguard. Swear it by your sister's life, and your father's, and your son's, by the old gods and the new, and I'll send you back to your sister. Refuse, and I will have your blood." He remembered the prick of the steel through his rags as she twisted the point of the sword.

I wonder what the High Septon would have to say about the sanctity of oaths sworn while dead drunk, chained to a wall, with a sword pressed to your chest?

Yes, I wonder.

There aren't many characters who make vows under duress in this story, but when it does happen, it seems mighty noteworthy.

+.+.+

"A man who would violate his own sister, murder his king, and fling an innocent child to his death deserves no other name."

If she didn't include that last part, I was about to start hollering.

+.+.+

Innocent? The wretched boy was spying on us.

[...]

If truth be told, Jaime had come to rue heaving Brandon Stark out that window. Cersei had given him no end of grief afterward, when the boy refused to die. "He was seven, Jaime," she'd berated him. "Even if he understood what he saw, we should have been able to frighten him into silence."

Pretty clear Jaime Lannister is a dead man his very first chapter.

+.+.+

"Lady Brienne?" She looked so uncomfortable that Jaime sensed a weakness. "Or would Ser Brienne be more to your taste?" He laughed.

Hmmm.

+.+.+

"When I quarrel I do it with a sword, coz. I was speaking to the lady. Tell me, wench, are all the women on Tarth as homely as you? I pity the men, if so. Perhaps they do not know what real women look like, living on a dreary mountain in the sea."

Is he 10 years old?

Remember how Sansa had to be saved from Sansans? Well...

+.+.+

"She's rude as well, isn't she, coz?" Jaime asked Ser Cleos. "Though she has steel in her spine, I'll grant you. Not many men dare name me monster to my face." Though behind my back they speak freely enough, I have no doubt.

But I'm sure you don't care about that.

+.+.+

"Let Robert do as he pleases. I'll go to war with him if I must. The War for Cersei's Cunt, the singers will call it."

Featuring Lancel Lannister and Moon Boy.

+.+.+

Had Cersei remembered him afterward and hired this man Lady Catelyn spoke of, to make sure the boy never woke? If she wanted him dead she would have sent me. And it is not like her to chose a catspaw who would make such a royal botch of the killing.

Things that aged well: Cersei would never hire someone so incompetent.

+.+.+

The reflection in the water was a man he did not know. Not only was he bald, but he looked as though he had aged five years in that dungeon; his face was thinner, with hollows under his eyes and lines he did not remember. I don't look as much like Cersei this way. She'll hate that.

Laughing at the foreshadowing, but also wondering how it never occurred to him that he looks exactly like his father.

+.+.+

An empty net, slashed and torn and hanging from some trees, was the only sign of fisherfolk. A young girl watering her horse rode off as soon as she glimpsed their sail.

I'm not sure on the timeline, but I think there's a strong possibility this is Arya.

Brienne's group and Arya's group both visit the Inn of the Kneeling Man in their next few chapters.

+.+.+

Below, Jaime made out the smouldering remains of a large building, and a live oak full of dead women.

The crows had scarcely started on their corpses. The thin ropes cut deeply into the soft flesh of their throats, and when the wind blew they twisted and swayed. "This was not chivalrously done," said Brienne when they were close enough to see it clearly. "No true knight would condone such wanton butchery."

[...]

When he saw the crude sign hung about the neck of the highest corpse, he smiled. "They Lay With Lions," he read. "Oh, yes, woman, this was most unchivalrously done . . . but by your side, not mine. I wonder who they were, these women?"

"Tavern wenches," said Ser Cleos Frey. "This was an inn, I remember it now. Some men of my escort spent the night here when we last returned to Riverrun."

[...]

"The girls pleasured some of my lord father's soldiers, it would seem. Perhaps served them food and drink. That's how they earned their traitors' collars, with a kiss and a cup of ale." He glanced up and down the river, to make certain they were quite alone. "This is Bracken land. Lord Jonos might have ordered them killed. My father burned his castle, I fear he loves us not."

"It might be Marq Piper's work," said Ser Cleos.

Riverlords butchering their own people. Yay, war.

+.+.+

"My name is Brienne," she repeated, dogged as a hound.

x

He had to laugh at such fierceness. She's the Hound with teats, he thought. Or would be, if she had any teats to speak of.

Yes, let's immediately create a direct link between these two characters. We love narrative foils.

+.+.+

She was gaining visibly, the men on her deck crowding forward as she came on. Metal glinted in their hands, and Jaime could see bows as well. Archers. He hated archers.

Great swordsman hating archers has to mean something eventually, right?

"Always follow a big man into battle."

Tyrion threw him a hard look. "And why is that?"

"They make such splendid targets. That one, he'll draw the eyes of every bowman on the field." - Tyrion VIII, AGOT

x

"I'd do the same. A small man with a big shield. You'll give the archers fits." - Tyrion VIII, AGOT

+.+.+

The skiff swung through a litter of broken stones as Jaime called out, "I know a better way to settle this—single combat. You and I."

"I was not born this morning, Lannister."

"No, but you're like to die this afternoon."

Jaime has always been wittier than Tyrion, change my mind.

+.+.+

A flight of arrows answered him. One thudded into the mast, two pierced the sail, and the fourth missed Jaime by a foot.

[...]

The motion of the two boats was giving the archers difficulty, but Jaime knew they'd soon enough learn to compensate.

[...]

"Not you, ser. If the choice were mine, I'd like nothing better, but I am commanded to bring you back alive if possible. Bowmen." He signaled them on. "Notch. Draw. Loo—"

Why are you shooting arrows at a man you'd like to keep alive?

+.+.+

Brienne was halfway up the cliff face, pulling herself from handhold to handhold. Ryger's sure to see her, and once he does he'll have those bowmen bring her down.

[...]

The archers could scarcely have missed, but as they pulled on their longbows a rain of pebbles cascaded down around them. Small stones rattled on their deck, bounced off their helms, and made splashes on both sides of the bow. Those who had wits enough to understand raised their eyes just as a boulder the size of a cow detached itself from the top of the bluff. Ser Robin shouted in dismay. The stone tumbled through the air, struck the face of the cliff, cracked in two, and smashed down on them.

I'm only sharing because it's important to showcase how awesome Brienne is.

+.+.+

"You're a bloody stupid wench," he told her. "We could have sailed on without you. I suppose you expect me to thank you?"

"I want none o. f your thanks, Kingslayer. I swore an oath to bring you safe to King's Landing."

"And you actually mean to keep it?" Jaime gave her his brightest smile. "Now there's a wonder."

Why yes, she's an Oathkeeper.

Final thoughts:

Jaime is so much easier to tolerate than Tyrion because I don't have to wait an eternity for his comeuppance.

-> return to menu <-

[fandom-puff]

A Proper Knight

Pairing: Jorah Mormont x reader

Requested by: anon ‘Okay, but also, imagine a low born girl falling in love with Jorah because she sees him as an honourable knight like the ones she heard from the stories and he doesn’t understand how she can think so highly of them... and they fall in love <3’

Warnings: talk of war, description of violence (including murder and rape), implied PTSD, younger woman/older man

Gif creds to owner

“Wait here,”

You did as the Unsullied soldier asked, waiting behind the heavy door of the Great Hall of Winterfell, brushing imaginary dust off your simple dress. It was your best one, albeit much plainer than even some of the servant girls of Winterfell, and you were self conscious.

You had come to pledge your allegiance against the Lannisters, to the King in the North, or to Lady Sansa Stark. You would pledge your allegiance to almost anyone so long as it was against the Lannisters- you still remembered your mother’s screams as a Lannister bannerman raped her before slitting her throat.

The door opened and the clamour of the lords and ladies inside trailed off as the unsullied soldier directed you forward. “Lady YN of house...” you stared hard at the maester as he squinted at his scroll. You were the last name on his list, crammed in after all of the nobles due to your status as a bastard.

You stood awkwardly, feeling the eyes of everyone staring at you- the lords and ladies behind you staring and murmuring, and the occupants of the head table: Jon Snow, Sansa, Arya and Bran Stark and Daenerys Targaryen, who was accompanied by a man and woman you did not recognise.

“What is your name, my Lady?” Jon Snow asked, quietening down the restless hall.

You looked around, worrying your lip between your teeth. “I-I...” you began, before clearing your throat. “Don’t call me ‘Lady’” you blurted out, resulting in murmuring scattered throughout the hall. “I’m sorry, I-”

“What’s your name, girl? It’s a simple enough question!” One man heckled and you sighed, beginning to turn away.

“Stop. Lord Glover, be quiet,” Arya quipped. “Go on, what’s your name,”

“And your house, if you please. You neglected to include that in your letter,” the maester added.

You took a deep breath. “My name is YN. I- I don’t have a house, I’m sorry. I’ve come to pledge my allegiance against the Lannisters,”

“And your surname? The name of your father,” the maester asked, dipping his quill.

You bit your lip. “I- I don’t know who my father is. I’m a bastard. Just put YN Snow. I’ve come to pledge my allegiance to the King in the North,”

There was a brief silence before Jon spoke. “There is no king in the north. I’ve bent the knee,” you turned to Bran, given that he was Ned Stark’s surviving true born son. “To Daenerys of House Targaryen,”

You frowned briefly, staring curiously at the dragon queen. “They say you have dragons, as big as a house. Is that true?” You asked. “Your grace,” you added quickly.

Daenerys smiled slightly. “Bigger,” she said with a smirk.

“Then Cersei Lannister and the Mountain that Rides ought to fire-proof their buildings,” you said. “If you’ll have me, I’d like to... well, I can’t fight, not with a sword at least. But I can fire an arrow in a straight line and that’s something. And if you don’t want me on the battlefield, I can cook, and my mother taught me to repair clothes, and my brother taught me how to sharpen blades. Just because I’m a bastard, doesn’t mean I’m not useful. Isn’t that right, Jon Snow?” Jon smiled slightly and nodded, seeing the twinkle in Brienne of Tarth and Lyanna Mormont’s eye as you spoke.

Slowly, every member of the head table nodded their heads. As you were beginning to seek out an empty seat, Daenerys spoke up. “Ser Jorah with help you refine your archery,” she said, gesturing to the tall man behind her. You looked at him properly for the first time. He was old, old enough to be your father at least, and handsome. “Yes, your grace,” you said.

**

“Draw the string back to your ear. These bows are probably stiffer than you’re used to, so really pull,”

You nodded, your hand trembling by your ear with the effort of holding back the string. You were eager to impress Ser Jorah Mormont- he was the first proper knight you had ever seen, and the first person more noble than a true born commoner you had had a proper conversation with.

“Loose,” he said and you did as you were bid. You turned to get a new arrow, assuming that one had missed the target, but as you were knocking it, you looked up. Ser Jorah was smiling. “Impressive. If that were a soldier, he’d be floored,” you smiled bashfully, fumbling and dropping your new arrow. Jorah smiled softly, picking it up and handing it to you, smiling softly at you from the ground.

He found you endearing, and he knew from your speech in the great hall that you were a force to be reckoned with. “Here. I think we’ll be able to hit the bullseye by the end of the day,” he said, moving behind you. “Knock,” he murmured, observing your movements. “Draw... turn your hips ever so slightly to the left, your arm will follow,”

“Like this?” You murmured, eyes focused completely on the target in front of you.

“Exactly like that. Loose,” you held your breath as you let go and watched the arrow soar towards... the bullseye!

“Well done, My Lady,” Jorah said softly.

“Ser Jorah, I’m not a lady. Why D’you keep calling me that?”

“It’s... polite, I suppose. And it’s a habit by now,”

“You really are a proper knight, aren’t you?” You teased, going to collect the arrows that littered the target.

“I mean... I’m a Ser, if that’s what you mean. I was made a knight by a monarch,”

“That doesn’t make you a proper knight. You’re like the ones in the songs and the tales. A gallant, generous, brave man, with honour and dignity and all the things that we sing about,”

Jorah smiled fondly and shook his head. “I’ve done bad things, YN. I’ve killed people,”

“So have I. So has Jon Snow,”

“You’ve killed?”

You froze, before nodding, turning away from him. “When I was fifteen, two Lannister knights broke into our home. They murdered my baby sister. They took turns raping my mother, then they slit her throat, for the crime of being a northerner, and for recognising Robb Stark as king,”

“What did you do?” Jorah said softly, approaching you slowly, as if you were a doe about to bolt away. “You can tell me. You won’t get into trouble for it,”

“One of the soldiers was huge. I thought he was the Hound at first, but he had no burns. It was his brother, the Mountain. The other knight told him to ride on, to find another village to ransack while he... finished with my mother. I was hiding in the pantry, and I took the knife that was on the table, still covered in my sister’s blood. A-and I crept up behind him as he wiped his hands on my mother’s dress... and... and...” you shuddered, remembering the heat of the blood over your hands, the way you scrubbed and scrubbed at them in a nearby river, the way you vomited at the thought of the Lannister knight’s corpse covering your mother’s...

“And that’s why you came here?” Jorah said quietly. You were leaning into his chest now as he rocked you, rubbing your back.

“Mm... they weren’t proper knights. They weren’t noble or gallant... they attacked two women and a baby in the dead of night. They had no honour. They were not just. You may think you are a bad knight, Ser Jorah, but what I saw that night... nobody could be worse than that. Goodnight, Ser,” you mumbled, pulling away from him as you made your way to your allocated room, dazed. Jorah stared after you, his heart twinging with more than just sympathy...

Tags: @sociallyawkward-princess @lazyotakujen

[swordmaid]

Brienne / Jaime / Samwise / Eowyn

brienne

favorite thing about them: difficult to answer because i talk about them everyday but i enjoy how the presence of choice is always present in her everything. it was her choice to follow renly, to serve catelyn, to keep her promise to catelyn, to find jaime’s honor. she is never forced to do anything; everything she has done is by her own choice which is such an interesting juxtaposition to characters like catelyn where they are very much tied down and limited by their society and how they expect women to be. brienne on the other hand, has the luxury of choice--which is a freedom on itself, but that is not to say she isn’t limited by their society. she still IS, but it’s interesting how she managed to achieve that semblance of freedom even though it isn’t since she’ll still being evaluated to their standards (and unlike cat, she’s being evaluated as both a knight and a woman and she’s seen as a failure of both). i also like how--despite the cruelties thrown her way--she never perpetuates it even though she could have!!! easily!! and it’d be understandable if she does but she chooses not to do it. she even feels sympathy for the people who played the bet on her when she heard what happened to them which is super crazy like those dudes didn’t give a shit about her but here she is giving a shit about them even if it’s just for a moment and it’s just like...........wow. you are choosing to be like that and i love you for it

least favorite thing about them: worst taste in men.

favorite line: her whole speech in the quiet isle is so heartbreaking and also one of my favorite passages in the whole story. her saying that selwyn deserved to have daughters who will sing and dance in his halls, and a son that would give him honor but all he is left with is the freakish one that’s not fit to be a son or daughter first of all heartbreaking ): second of all the underlying implication that if she’s the one who died but her other siblings--whether it be galladon, arianne or alysanne--that lived then maybe selwyn wouldn’t be so dishonored is so!!!!! the survivor’s guilt of it all even though it’s not her fault!!!! and it’s really the way that she DID try to be alysanne/arianne, and she DID try to be galladon for him but none of the roles fit because she’s meant for something greater 😭😭😭😭

brOTP: pod and brienne ofc! next to pia and brienne, then sandor and brienne, and then sam and brienne.

OTP: jb

nOTP: tormund x brienne LOL we dont do that here

random headcanon: brienne likes to write poetry and she wrote a bunch dedicated to renly LOL. her old poems are stashed in the bottom of her trunk, collecting dust in her childhood room.

unpopular opinion: brienne’s self-righteous, judgemental and stubborn nature is not as explored nor brought up when talking about her character tbh and i feel like that facet of her character shouldn’t be ignored. when we explore her flaws, it’s usually about her naiveté which is fair since she IS naive--but that’s not her only flaw lol

song i associate with them: rabbit heart (raise it up) by florence + the machine

favorite picture of them: erika’s drawing of brienne in her tarth armour is one of my favourite pieces ever + this one with dunk’s shield!!!

jaime

favorite thing about them: his pov in asos is what made me like him tbh he is just SO well written, and his character is compelling and interesting. his relationship with knighthood is so interesting too like he is THE stereotypical knight in shining armor except he’s not that. he is just so disillusioned by knighthood but he still continues to follow it despite all, and it’s really the way that his identity has been formed and given to him to wear!! from being tywin’s son, then cersei’s mirror, then the kingsguard then the kingslayer and it’s like none of these identities were made by his own hands but he wears them because they’re a role to play and that’s what he knows what to do, but then he suddenly learns to step back and craft his own identity and be whoever what he wants to be it’s like..........what are u gonna be huh!!!!! it’s like there is a mirror but the person on the other side has never been HIM till now i am going insane. and i was talking about the presence of choice being present for brienne but for jaime.........it isn’t .....not really.............not till now.

least favorite thing about them: that scene where he touched cleos’ mushy head was disgusting

favorite line: how can such a night be beautiful? he asked himself. why would the stars want to look down on such as me? which is so WAAH THE DRAMA. but it’s also the loneliness and the yearning and it’s grasping for something that he can never hold, arms outstretched to hold on to something so far away and it’s also about the celestial imagery of the stars and it’s relationship with brienne (the evenstar) and arthur dayne (star of the morning) and how those two are honorable knights but jaime is not!!! and why would they look down on someone such as him!!!! fuck.

brOTP: his relationship with tyrion ): i also like ilyn and jaime, and pia and jaime. sandor and jaime would be interesting as well since that’s like ~the two beasts~ for their respective batb

OTP: jb :\

nOTP: jaime/sansa lmao

random headcanon: jaime has a fat ass. like i know he’s canonically skinny now because of his imprisonment but you’re gonna have to pry jaime with thick thighs and fat ass away from my cold dead manicured fingernails

unpopular opinion: he’s going to live by the end <3

song i associate with them: time in a tree by raleigh ritchie

favorite picture of them: fawn’s drawing of jaime being a dilf ):

samwise

mind you i haven’t read the books so im going by the film lol

favorite thing about them: their everything <3 )):

least favorite thing about them: i dont think im allowed to say shit about sam tbh i feel like im gonna be tasered if i do

favorite line: it’s your sam!!!!!!!! and also i can’t carry it for you but i can carry you waaah

brOTP: frodo/sam

OTP: frodo/sam

nOTP: um idk

random headcanon: they’re super hot but that’s not a headcanon

unpopular opinion: nothing i love them

song i associate with them: i think how was your day? by mellow fellow fits them

favorite picture of them: this one bc it’s so cute kekeke

eowyn

favorite thing about them: they had very cute outfits honestly i think her wardrobe was my favorite out of everyone

least favorite thing about them: not enough screen time

favorite line: her iconic i am no man line ig

brOTP: eowyn and merry!

OTP: i would say with that guy she ended up with but i also dont know HOW they got together?? like 🧍

nOTP: n/a

random headcanon: idk enough about her to make hcs

unpopular opinion: i thought the aragorn one-sided romance was a bit ? lol like why are you hitting on him he already told you he got someone else

song i associate with them: king and lionheart by of monster and men ig but im not so sure and that’s so general

favorite picture of them: i haven’t seen much eowyn content to have a fave pic sorry!!

[twelvemonkeyswere]

Random Character Meme

1. Go to https://www.random.org/lists/ and type in 15 different characters from any fandom (they can be in the same fandom) into the empty box

2. Click Randomize under the box and answer the following prompts:

Your rival:

Played 7 Minutes in Heaven with:

Your significant other:

Parent:

The random person you meet at the bar:

Your boss:

Haunts you:

Drunk singing karaoke with:

Gave you your fave dessert:

Your sibling:

Gave you your first kiss:

Your best friend:

Grandparent:

Proposed to you:

Ex:

Got tagged by @samirant to do this one and I was trying to strategically choose my characters and I had fun xD Thank you and I hope you have a good day.

Your rival: Gideon the Ninth

If anyone had to compete with me for anything, I'm glad it's Gideon. We can be friends *and* rivals.

Played 7 Minutes in Heaven with: Saitama (One Punch Man)

Good lord. Neither of us had a good time, probably.

Your significant other: Caitlyn (Arcane)

She's reliable, she has money, she has connections, she learns and has a good heart. This is good.

Parent: Rosa Diaz

As her child, if anything bad happened to me she would kill everyone in the room and then save me. Most protected ever.

The random person you meet at the bar: Harrohawrk the Ninth

I'm tryina have a mojito and this child is just straight up having an existential crisis next to me and waxing poetical about my rival so we strike up a conversation.

Your boss: Miles Morales

This will be FUN. I'll follow Miles through and through.

Haunts you: Haruhi (Ouran High School Host Club)

I'm bad at deadlines and I feel like she would haunt me for it. Great person to have around tho.

Drunk singing karaoke with: Kyoya (Ouran High School Host Club)

He's singing "Get Cha Head in the Game" because he's also crying about the people he's in love with

Gave you your fave dessert: Jaime Lannister

That tracks. He does make sure people are well fed.

Your sibling: Brienne of Tarth

This is really good! She's strong and kind and with Rosa as our mother we would be trained in various combat techniques in no time.

Gave you your first kiss: Vi (Arcane)

This probably went miles better than with Saitama but The Bagagge.

Your best friend: Jotaro Kujo

*montage of me just saying "JOOOOTARO" in Dio's voice over and over*

Grandparent: Captain Holt

YASSSSSSSS.

Proposed to you: Matt Murdock

This guy has a lot going for him and he's even Catholic! But alas, The Baggage.

Ex: Ron Swanson

Neither he nor I comment on it.

I'll tag @thewasabipea @broadlybrazen @theplasticmailman @scoundrels-in-love

[nossbean]

Ooh Hot Chocolate for the WIP meme, if you please :)

hee! I’m going to cheat possibly and combine this and Hot Chocolate II XD This sprung from asking a friend for a prompt for a writing warm-up last winter, hence the season appropriate: hot chocolate! Neither of these have any plot: my first go at the prompt is the start of a deleted scene from the Pacific Rim AU fic I did, with Jaime waking up before Brienne on his first morning in Tarth. Buuut it didn’t really have anywhere to go; I like it, but it petered out at just under 500 words. The second one is book canon, set in the future where Brienne and Jaime are visiting Sansa in the North with their kidlets. It has... genuinely no plot! This fic says: How did any of them survive? How did they get to where they are, post-war? Who knows! Who cares! They’re happy and healthy and mostly whole and that’s what matters! I do like it, for some slice of life fluff and I did come close to posting it -- I think it lived as a draft on AO3 before reaching that month limit to when AO3 deletes drafts, and indeed, reading it back now, I’m pretty sure I’d made some edits to the ao3 version to how Brienne in particular acts at the end. I’m not sure I’ll return to it, but in case it might bring some warm feelings as is, here’s the version I have:

Winterfell is under several feet of snow when they arrive. It is, at least, something to distract the children. Jo and Gall immediately fall all over themselves, tangled with Sansa’s Robb. Arya appears from only the Gods know where, and throws a loosely-packed snowball with infuriating accuracy at Jaime’s face. It collapses on impact, filling his nose and his beard, and somehow managing to sneak under the neck of his clothes to chill his chest, and with a growl, he launches himself into the mix.

He isn’t sure how much time passes, but he’s kneeled now in front of Gall, helping Jo and Robb pack snow around his legs to make him into a snowman. He has no idea where Arya’s gone, which is worrying, but he suspects Arya won’t disturb him when he’s playing with his children. Jo is in charge, one hand on her hip, the other pointing imperiously as she orders Jaime and Robb to work faster, bury her brother more efficiently, and Jaime delays long enough to cause her to frown severely at him, a downward pout to her mouth that he knows mirrors his own when he’s doing his best to goad Brienne, and he doesn’t know if he’s ever loved their daughter more. Of course, the thought is one which crosses his mind by the minute; with a glance to Gall, who is shimmying with excitement, sending the packed snow tumbling in small clumps, and his heart is full. He is so lucky. He remembers, every day.

“Fa-ther,” Jo says, and Jaime says quickly, “My apologies, Lady Joanna,” pretending at being demure when she nods regally, and redoubles his efforts.

His gold hand is surprisingly useful for the task, comparatively. That is, until Gall looks over Jaime’s shoulder and starts giggling, covering his mouth in a motion reminiscent of his mother. It’s enough warning, and Jaime collapses sideways onto his arse, just as Brienne drops an armful of snow where he’d been kneeled. It lands, now, on his calves and feet, and Jaime scowls, looking up at his wife. Her eyes are bright over her cold-kissed-red cheeks, broken teeth peeking from the wonderful curve of her smile, and Jaime curses his age as he struggles to scramble to his feet to tackle her into a nearby snowdrift.

Brienne gives him the time, though, kind, foolish woman that she is. She laughs up at him as they fall, the children hollering behind them, and Jaime wonders that he ever lived without the warm song in his chest brought on by the sound of her laughter. Once they’re collapsed, surrounded by snow, he squirms to prop himself up beside her, and promptly sets about stealing her scarf.

“You’ve made me cold, wife.”

“I haven’t,” she says, setting her jaw and tugging back on her scarf. “You should have dressed more warmly.”

“I didn’t expect such a chilly welcome,” he says, and Brienne groans and rolls her eyes. Jaime grins, then persists dramatically, “I also did not anticipate being attacked by our hosts upon arrival.”

“Last time we were here, Arya pushed you into the watering trough within minutes.”

“What’s your point?”

“That you bloody well should have anticipated it.”

“I have learned that in life, it is possible to mature,” he tells her with exaggerated sobriety. “And I had hoped that Arya might —”

“That Arya might what?” Arya says behind him. Brienne looks past his shoulder and starts snickering.

“Oh,” he murmurs. “I’m not going to like this, am I?”

“No,” Brienne says, tone what passes for sing-song with Brienne, and he almost doesn’t hate when the cold water soaks his head and slips under his various layers to spread wet patches across his undershirt. He definitely doesn’t hate when Brienne splutters furiously as he shakes his head, spraying her and Arya, who he hear skips back with an outraged yelp.

Mostly he soaks Brienne though. She deserves it for her betrayal.

After they escape to their quarters to change — and have a quick tumble, for the sake of warming his blood, he had declared, and Brienne had murmured shut up against his mouth, her fingers already on the ties of his breeches— one of Sansa’s handmaidens leads them to Sansa’s solar. 

Sansa smiles as she embraces Brienne and nods to Jaime. She is still a little shadowed, but each time they visit, she seems a little brighter, a little less guarded and distant. She gestures for them to sit, and says, “Ser Jaime, I think this may please you.”

“I will be honest with you, Lady Sansa,” he says, settling beside Brienne and leaning back in his chair to stretch his legs out in front of him. “Little has pleased me of Stark hospitality thus far.”

Brienne shoots him a look, but he sees as the turn to Sansa’s smile becomes more true, the way her eyes flicker mischief. She says, with the barest sardonic emphasis, “I’m terribly sorry for the nature of your welcome. I will speak with my sister.”

“Thank you, my lady,” he replies, matching her tone. 

“Perhaps this will make it up to you,” she says, and stands. She moves to the sideboard where mugs of something steaming wait. “We had an envoy from Dorne recently,” she says, lifting the tray and carrying it over. “They gifted us with this drink concoction. It is surprisingly suitable for snowy winters, given it came from warm climes.”

Jaime reaches out for a mug, passes it to Brienne, before taking one for himself. He sniffs dubiously at the steam rising from the brown mixture: it smells sweet, and rich, and dark, somehow. His mouth waters from the scent alone and he spares a passing thought that of course something so obviously luxuriant is a Dornish beverage before he raises the mug to sip.

The thick liquid spreads warm through his mouth, coating his tongue, and he hears Brienne offer a startled moan beside him. Rarely has he ever tasted something which matches its scent, but this drink — the sweetness fills his mouth, offset by a slight bitterness. It’s delicious. And yes, warming. It spreads heat down his chest, settling comfortingly in his belly. He drinks again, settling into the coziness it brings.

“So?” Sansa asks. Jaime opens his eyes and tips his head up to meet her gaze, looking down on him archly through the steam of another mug still on the platter. “Are we forgiven?”

For the sake of his wife, he ought to make this easy. But there’s a glint in Sansa’s eyes that he’s keen to tease out. So he shrugs insouciantly and says, “That depends.”

“On?” Sansa says evenly.

“How generous you are with your remaining stores.”

“Ah. That may depend on how keen you are to maintain truce with my sister. Really, this was a gift to her.”

“Mmm,” Jaime says thoughtfully. He looks to Brienne. “Are we prepared for war with the North?”

Under normal circumstance, Jaime would laugh at the serious look on his lady wife’s face despite how transparently absurd he is being, but Jaime has a facade to maintain. So when Brienne says firmly, “No,” Jaime sighs dramatically and turns back to Sansa.

“It seems we have reached an impasse, and it falls to me to be the bigger person.” He ignores Brienne’s disbelieving snort — will extract recompense later that this is what breaks her stern exterior — and nods graciously to Sansa. “All is forgiven.”

[scoundrels-in-love]

Did you slip in through open doors and sit down, just to look at me like that (every day)

Brienne doesn't mean to lie to her father. She just wants him to stop trying to set her up with men who aren't Jaime Lannister, whom she's secretly in love with. Unfortunately, that's exactly who eagerly inserts himself in the narrative as her fake boyfriend. And her father is coming to King's Landing in two weeks.

Truly, what could go wrong?

Also on AO3. Part of @jbmonthlymadness Mutual Pining challenge.

It starts like most lies and life changing avalanches - quite innocently.

Brienne is sitting on a couch in the living room, a sports game playing on the screen mutely while she chats with her father over a videocall. Jaime is puttering around in the kitchen, preparing snacks for the movie they’re planning to watch after the game ends and all things considered, it’s a lot like most of her Sunday nights.

Except her dad had left the matter of dating alone for a few good months and she definitely isn’t overjoyed by the theme's revival. “Brienne, he really likes your work and I think there’d be no harm meeting him for a coffee after the convention.”

“Dad, no. Thank you, but no.” She shifts uncomfortably, considers calling Jaime over because the movie is ‘starting’, so she can end the call early.

“I know you think you don’t need relationships and maybe you don’t need them, but I just think you deserve to have someone who loves and respects you, admires you and what you do,” her dad says and she can feel the well-intended love warming her all the way from Tarth. She longs for a huge beach umbrella to hide under. “And that’s exactly what my friends do,” she says, firmly, and the knowledge it’s true fills her chest. She cannot entirely blame her father’s worry - the girl that had left Tarth would not have been able to imagine or believe the group of people that surround her nowadays, either. The warmth, support and sometimes the absolute nonsense she has found with them still feels almost unreal at times.

Her dad sighs, brows furrowing with soft concern in a way that makes her feel guilty somehow. “You know what I mean, Starlight. You don’t have to keep seeing him, but won’t you consider at least one meeting?”

And this is when the most horrible, most escapist idea bounces off her tongue, bypassing her brain entirely. “It wouldn’t be fair to the man, because I just started seeing someone, dad.”

The silence following is no longer than a blink, but she feels as if it has turned into the time stretch she is going to need to hurriedly pack her bags, go to the airport and leave for Pentos, never to return again. She has lied to her father only a handful of times, and though he only found out once (when she had lied about why she had broken Connigton’s nose), this one is ancient parchment thin because she has no followup whatsoever.

“Really? Who is it?” Selwyn leans closer to the phone, an exact mix of disbelief and excitement such a statement would call for. Her stomach is both knotted up and rolling around, as if looking for an escape route.

“Yes,” she responds, turning to call for Jaime for some chips in a horrible attempt to bargain for time to use lost Asshai magics to summon a person who doesn’t exist.

Except her roommate is already standing behind the couch, plate of snacks in his hand and grin on his face. He swoops down, propping his chin on her shoulder and she can feel the heat radiating from his brilliant smile as he says: “It’s me.”

Her stomach finds a trap door and falls straight into the abyss.

Her dad’s eyebrows shoot up and this time, he leans back, as if to inspect the picture they both paint, squished in the tiny frame of her camera. She can feel he finds it unconvincing. So she does the only reasonable thing: turns her head and presses a brief kiss to the corner of Jaime’s mouth.

“Yes,” Brienne says for the second time that night and it feels just as condemning. Her lips are still burning.

“I finally gathered my courage and confessed to her recently, but I am still in the process of convincing her of the endless depth of my devotion, hence her hesitancy to mention it immediately, Mr. Tarth.”

He sounds so perfectly boy-next-door, sweet and respectful, all the things she knows he is not (at least the respectful part), but Jaime’s always liked her father and been an excellent actor. It’s rare when he uses the skill to look like anything else than an utter asshole, though, so in any other situation she’d marvel at the sight. But she can’t, her mind exists only to force her lips into, hopefully, a natural smile and a nod in the direction of her father.

“Well, that’s great news! I was wondering if you’d ever get to it,” her dad grins and she almost asks him to repeat it, because it makes no sense , but he isn’t done talking yet. “I will see you two after the convention, then? I look forward to your lecture, Starlight. And the whole story of how the two of you got together.”

She nods dumbly, exchanges good night wishes with her dad (accompanied by “Good night, Mr. Tarth!” in sing-song voice) and then ends the call. The relief doesn’t set in, like Brienne had hoped.

Jaime plops down next to her, looking completely unbothered as he turns the volume back up. The movie is about to start, but she has about a million questions, for herself and more importantly - for Jaime.

“Why did you do that?”

“Well, I couldn’t let your lie fall apart the minute you said it. That’s not what friends do.” He stresses the word strangely, with almost a brittle edge, but Brienne is not equipped to decipher it right now.

“But now we will have to pretend to be dating and if we fake a breakup, how will we explain you still live with me?”

“You haven’t been dating me for a month and already think about breaking up? I will do a better job now that I am aware of it,” he grins, easy and bright, like he has just discovered their favorite childhood cartoon Blue Knight is having a rerun on Saturday mornings, instead of making light of a new and nerve wrecking variable of their lives.

Instead of processing any of it, Brienne punches his shoulder slightly, at which he groans in an exaggerated manner. “I never agreed to being manhandled outside the bedroom.”

Her brain, thoroughly deep fried by the events of tonight, pulls itself together in that moment to create a vivid image of Jaime being manhandled in the bedroom. Briene inhales sharply, but somehow manages to turn exhale into something else than an eager noise.

Before her brain decides to cope by making the image into a clip, she focuses on the real matter at hand. “Jaime, this is serious . We just lied to my father and now we will have to pretend to be dating indefinitely, unless we have a faux amicable breakup, because I don’t want to pretend you’re not my friend for the rest of my life.” Somewhere in the abyss, her stomach convulses at the thought.

At this, he turns to face her, more serious, but with last remnants of playful grin gilding his words. “So, it was a little spontaneous, but you were about to invent a man who’d always be away on business trips and ask Sansa photoshop fake couple photos, weren’t you?” Brienne bristles, but can’t say no , when it had been one of the panicked thoughts running headfirst in the side of her skull.

He leans in, arm that has been resting on the back of couch coming to wrap around her shoulder and pull her closer and last vestiges of lighthearted grin turn into something she doesn’t quite have the words for, as his teeth sink in his bottom lip just so and his eyes look darker and wilder than any forest she’s ever known. “Believe me, I will be way more convincing .”

Brienne has to bite the inside of her cheek to not blurt out that’s one of the things I’m afraid of . How is she supposed to walk through this unscatched when his well-meant game and her own yearnings will cut her into like fine silver wire?

He seems to take her silence as agreement and backs off a little, giving her shoulder a reassuring squeeze. “We will figure it out, B. War council tomorrow. But for now, let’s just watch the movie, okay?”

His gaze is warm now, like a lovely summer day in shade, and she is comforted by it enough to agree. But not enough to actually be able to focus on the movie instead of replaying tonight’s events in her mind, asking herself again and again why she had lied. Jaime chastises her for it a few times and seems to gradually grow tenser, too, until they call it a night earlier than they normally would.

“Don’t worry about it too much and just sleep,” he tells her for good night and his concern drops a ladder in the bottomless pit where her stomach still resides, while his smile sheds some light in it.

And when Brienne curls up in her bed a little later, she knows she lied because she does feel taken, if only in her heart. She’s in love with Jaime, has been for a long time now. It’s never been something to really think about, just a fact that sometimes fills her with glow and pinpricks of yearning when she wonders just how the lines of their friendship would blur into something more if it were possible.

Except now she will have to walk the line between pretense and her secret fantasy without revealing it.

She is so, so fucked.

[captainelliecomb]

I posted 8,265 times in 2022

68 posts created (1%)

8,197 posts reblogged (99%)

Blogs I reblogged the most:

@museiums

@dwellordream

@undercoverkernel

@nobodysuspectsthebutterfly

@it-may-be-dull-but-im-determined

I tagged 8,255 of my posts in 2022

#gorgeous things - 4,899 posts

#art - 4,470 posts

#asoiaf - 2,136 posts

#did i laugh i did i did - 1,821 posts

#do want to write - 1,602 posts

#jaime x brienne - 1,110 posts

#do want to read - 989 posts

#starklings - 608 posts

#lannisters are a mess of beautiful things - 597 posts

#brienne of tarth makes my heart sing - 525 posts

Longest Tag: 140 characters

#what i wouldn't give for more stories about tommen and myrcella ending up with jaime and brienne and brienne's growing collection of orphans

My Top Posts in 2022:

#5

GOT Fic Jaime x Brienne

Here We Go to War

Written for @kiraziwrites for the JB Festive Festival Exchange 2021

Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings

Mature

Tags: Jaime/Brienne, Sansa Stark, Arya Stark, Daenerys Targaryen, Sandor Clegane, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Canon Divergence After Season Six, Westerosi Politics, Political Marriage, Marriage of Convenience, Pining, The Long Night, Sparring as Foreplay, Hurt/Comfort, Woundcare, Cunnilingus, Not Quite A Bath But Close Enough For Jaime, Daenerys Targaryen Is Not a Mad Queen, Angst With a Happy Ending

Summary: War to the east, the Dragon queen and her foreign armies come to take back the Seven Kingdoms with fire and blood and demand the North bend the knee.

War to the south, the Lannister queen took her throne in wildfire and the blood of innocents and demands the head of Sansa Stark.

War to the north, beyond the Wall, the Night King and his army of the dead demand nothing but death.

War comes for them all.

In the middle, two tired knights try to protect the ones they love and the ones to whom they're sworn.

28 notes - Posted February 9, 2022

#4

ASOIAF/GOT fic rec, Jaime/Brienne, canon divergence, arranged marriage, enemies to lovers, reluctant royalty

Protector of the Realm by greenmtwoman @greenmtwoman (written for @jaime-brienne-fic-exchange 2022) Rating: Mature No Archive Warnings Apply Tags: Queen Brienne, AU-Arranged Marriage, After All the Wars Word count: 22,641

Summary: "Your brother is free to remain at Casterly Rock, and to eat his gold. We will allow him no other use for it.”

“Unless?” He regarded her with a kind of wonder. She was shrewder and more implacable than he had expected.

“Unless you and I are wed.”

He laughed, though her face was entirely serious. “Was this Tyrion’s idea or yours?” It was a preposterous idea, and it made a preposterous kind of sense.“

Call it a mutual realization of need. I need to marry for the stability of the crown. There are few candidates left. I require a consort with wealth, and I’d prefer not to wed a fool or a weakling.”

“Lucky for you that I’m neither. I’m merely a monster, which is much more agreeable.”

Rec: Beautiful canon divergence arranged marriage enemies to lovers romance between Queen Brienne and Jaime that cuts straight to the emotional core of each of them, has excellent rhythm in the writing, and is warm, funny, biting, and sweet all at once.

31 notes - Posted August 21, 2022

#3

WIP Wishlist Update

Posted eight different WIP Wishlists during 2021. Several stories have been updated since they were posted, including some that had not been updated in awhile. Celebrate these updates!

almost a beauty, almost a knight by ifancymyselfawriter  Mentioned in Round Three as updated 26 July 2021. Current Last Updated 30 July 2021!

The Arrangement by tarthiana @bussdowntarthiana Mentioned in Round Four. Now complete!

At Your Side by miera @mierac Mentioned in Round Four. Now complete!

Beware Your Dreams by Zeta_Mei @zetaaa Mentioned in Round One as updated October 2020. Current Last Updated 25 May 2021!

Brave New World by suffolkgirl Mentioned in Round Eight. Now complete!

The Broken Jaw of Our Lost Kingdoms by Vera (Vera_DragonMuse)   Mentioned in Round Eight as updated November 2021. Current Last Updated 01 January 2022!

Constant as the Northern Star by PrettyThief @pretty--thief Mentioned in Round Two as updated April 2021. Current Last Updated 9 September 2021!

Crowned With Flowers by BecauseBraime  Mentioned in Round One. Now complete!

Heart That Matters More by dancinginthecenteroftheworld @dancinginthecenteroftheworld Mentioned in Round Six as updated August 2021. Current Last Updated 11 October 2021!

It’s All Coming Back to Me Now by CatelynTsukino  Mentioned in Round Four as updated July 2021. Current Last Updated 10 January 2022!

it’s not much (but my money’s on you) by jellyb34n  Mentioned in Round Six as updated September 2021. Current Last Updated 21 November 2021!

The Keeper by PalyGirl  Mentioned in Round Two as updated March 2021. Current Last Updated 28 November 2021!

No One Mourns the Wicked by boywholivednotdied  Mentioned in Round One as updated June 2020. Current Last Updated 25 June 2021!

An Old Lion Amongst Young Wolves by Angelic_Temptress  Mentioned in Round Three as updated December 2020. Current Last Updated 3 August 2021!

Three years, no more by Zeta_Mei @zetaaa Mentioned in Round Two as updated April 2021. Current Last Updated 16 May 2021!

turn up the stage lights by potato_writes @potatothecat Mentioned in Round One as updated March 2021. Current Last Updated 1 June 2021!

35 notes - Posted January 14, 2022

#2

WIP Wishlist Mid-year 2022 Updates

WIP Wishlist

All the fic updated after the end of 2021 WIP Wishlist Update

almost a beauty, almost a knight by ifancymyselfawriter

From round four, last updated 01 May 2022

Things I love: Tommen, Tommen and Jaime, Tommen and Brienne; begrudging respect between Brienne and Cersei even among everything else between them; the intrigue of dragons fighting dragons and lions and suns and Evenstars caught between them; the Rock, which is unusual for me; twisting, manipulative, dangerous relationships of all sorts.

The Blue Knight vs. The Kingslayer by SeeThemFlying

From round eight, last updated 02 March 2022

Things I love: Brienne and Pod’s friendship and teamwork, the sheer silliness and threat of the Kingslayer, Imp, and Evil Queen, the Honor League, the sweetness and softness between Brienne and Jaime while their alteregos wage war on each other, how over-the-top and joyful and perfect this is as a comic book story.

Break the Shape We Take by ClasseySpanks

From round eight, last updated 12 April 2022

Things I love: Intriguing worldbuilding, particularly around the Evenstar prophecy, Jaime needling at Brienne because he loves to see her eyes and her blush and to argue with her, something dangerous lurking in the trees and impaling deer on branches, Brienne brave and fearless when she’s doing what she’s been born to do and awkward and withdrawn otherwise, Jaime and Brienne teaming up.

The Broken Jaw of Our Lost Kingdoms by Vera ( Vera_DragonMuse)

From round eight, now complete

Things I love: Interesting, engaging worldbuilding, how Sansa and Brienne work together, Brienne and Pod’s friendship across lines, shapeshifting, the sharp-edged history between Brienne and Jaime.

everything you see (is all for your taking) by EllisJay

From round nine, last updated 09 April 2022

Things I love: Brienne confident, experienced, and gentle with the people who need her to be gentle, Brienne’s amazing students and how she interacts with them, Oberyn’s work with Brienne and his flirtations, the double entendres, Brienne’s masturbation lesson blowing Jaime’s mind when he puts it into practice, flirtation on top of flirtation.

It’s All Coming Back to Me Now by CatelynTsukino

From round four, now complete

Things I love: Brienne and Aerys; how different it is for Jaime to interact with Ned (and others, but particularly Ned) when he’s not Kingsguard; Brienne’s friendship with women (I’d name them, but I don’t want to get too spoilery on who lives, who dies, and why they become friends); the pain Brienne and Jaime each carry; what Westeros looks like when Robert’s Rebellion is a very different thing.

it’s not much (but my money’s on you) by jellyb34n @nossbean

From round six, last updated 6 May 2022

Things I love: Behind the scenes for politics, the friendships, particularly Jaime, Elia, and Rhaenys, Brienne’s characterisation and voice, Jaime’s sharp humour and intelligence set against his soft heart (he is made for love), the incredible sexual and romantic tension between Jaime and Brienne, Lyanna Mormont in all her glory, Missandei’s intelligence and wit and competence, Pia’s role – everything, pretty much everything.

The Kingsguard by LadyRhiyana

From round nine, last updated 22 May 2022

Things I love: Modern AUs with Brienne as a princess, why Selwyn joins the rebels, Jaime the undercover Kingsguard, the way they annoy each other to no end, Brienne’s friendships, the way they protect each other, the history of Evenfall Hall, Lannister sibling dynamics, and spring break shenanigans.

No One Mourns the Wicked by boywholivednotdied

From round one, last updated 20 April 2022

Things I love: Jaime’s time in Riverrun with Brienne, Brienne’s friendship with Catelyn, the complicated political mess in King’s’ Landing, Brienne’s fierceness and loyalty and love.

See the full post

43 notes - Posted July 5, 2022

My #1 post of 2022

Belated Jaime x Brienne Week Speed Fic Recs

Late to the party because work interrupted, but I had this half put together before travel started and wanted to share what I had done, even late and incomplete. Possibly more later, I had at least another five authors ready to discuss.

You can always find more fic talk under my WIP Wishlist and Fic Rec tags.

Combination of days, here are five authors who make me happy and three of their fics that I love.

Crowned With Flowers by BecauseBraime: Pre-canon canon divergence, Jaime x Brienne through political machinations, royal Tarths, Brienne growing up with the love and support of Genna Lannister, friendships, secrets and lies, and warrior princess Brienne.

Game of Secrets by BecauseBraime: GOT canon divergence, Jaime x Brienne through secret Targaryens, royal bastards, sparring, Stark and Tarth friendships, Stark and Lannister friendships, and secrets for everyone.

The Gathering Storm by BecauseBraime: GOT canon divergence, Jaime x Brienne through more secret Targaryens, Selwyn Tarth playing the game, Stark and Tarth friendships, battles and traps, and a glorious Daenerys.

The Lion, the Wench and the Wardrobe Trailer by GilShalos1: Modern AU, slow burn Jaime x Brienne through acting, politics, tournaments, therapy, and friendships.

To Look On Tempests: Or, How to Find Yourself Without GPS by GilShalos1: WIP, Modern AU, Jaime x Brienne through trauma recovery, forced proximity, the good and bad that comes along with a fuller Tarth family, flirting and seduction via romance novels and flowery language, and complicated, painful emotions.

Dragonfire and Sapphires by GilShalos1: GOT canon divergence, Jaime x Brienne through arranged marriage, Queen Daenerys and her respect for Brienne, trauma recovery, the Long Night, misunderstandings, and beautiful, warm Tarth.

Falling Is Like This by @kiraziwrites: Modern AU, Jaime x Brienne through Stark influence, climbing gyms, Brienne’s beautiful rope bondage, and the freedom of safe falling.

Ring Them Bells by @kiraziwrites: GOT canon divergence, Jaime x Brienne through Jaime surviving the fall of the Red Keep, suicidal tendencies, broken bodies and hearts, Brienne taking care of Starks and Starks taking care of Brienne, queer dads on Tarth, and rebuilding trust.

Sharp Objects by @kiraziwrites: Modern AU, Jaime x Brienne through archaeology, axe-throwing, fieldwork, shared secrets, and discoveries that will shake up historical beliefs.

And Counting by nubbins_for_all: GOT canon divergence, trauma recovery, learning intimacy, Brienne and friends, Sansa ruling Winterfell, the ways love hurts and heals, and soft, sexy domesticity. 

the crime deserves the punishment by nubbins_for_all: GOT canon divergence, Jaime x Brienne through rape/sexual assault, Jaime’s instincts to attack those who harm Brienne and Brienne’s response to it, Brienne glorious in her anger, disgust, and fear, and the different ways to recover.

something different and second verse (same as the first) by nubbins_for_all: GOT canon divergence, Jaime x Brienne through gender nonconformity, crossdressing, learning intimacy, complicated relationships, interesting Westerosi politics, and violence as foreplay.

Beware your dreams by @zetaaa: ASOIAF canon divergence, Jaime x Brienne through secret Targaryens, poisonings, angry and awkward flirtations, Brienne making friends and having adventures, and all sorts of fun POV characters.

Go and kiss her by @zetaaa: Modern AU, Jaime x Brienne through misunderstandings, surprise kisses, parental fisticuffs, idiotic friendships, and awkward flirtations.

Let it snow! by @zetaaa: Modern AU, Jaime x Brienne through adorable university shenanigans, mistletoe, Jaime being both annoying and charming, and, of course, snow.

47 notes - Posted October 12, 2022

Get your Tumblr 2022 Year in Review →

Not even a little surprised how often Jaime x Brienne appears on here.

[janiedean]

y'know, i can't help it, but i just imagined brienne going to her father excited and saying, papa, look, i've got a heart! and selwyn realizes that the heart ain't looking so well as far as hearts go, so he sits his daughter down and tells her how she has to take care of this heart. and brienne being all solemn, swearing that she'll take care of this heart.

.. you know what it I need to write something because I haven’t written anything in two weeks and I need to get back into it let’s see if we can make something out of this - this is the background explanation for… whatever this is

–

Brienne is five when it appears on her bed.

It’s the middle of the night, and she’s sleeping, but at some point the mattress becomes hot and she wakes up immediately, wondering what’s wrong with it -

And then she sees that at the bottom of her bed there’s something glowing.

Suddenly, the mattress’s heat doesn’t matter any more as she crawls out of the sheets and towards that light. For a moment it’s blinding, but then it lowers down a bit, and then some more, until it goes from white to a beautiful golden color -

And it beats.

It’s strange, because as it is it looks like a ball of light, large enough to fit in her cupped palms, but when she takes it, it pulses against her skin. It moves ever so slightly, in and out, in and out, and first it’s racing, beat after beat after beat, and then it becomes slower, more regular, and Brienne keeps on staring down at it in fascination, wondering what it could be -

And then it changes. The golden light stays, but as absurd as it seems, she starts seeing red cracks in it, not enough to break the entire thing apart but bleeding darker red light that merges with the golden hue on the outside. Brienne blinks, her thumb brushing over the surface of that pulsing gold, and then she understands at once what it is.

Oh.

Oh.

She’s heard the whispers behind her back - she’s young, but she’s not deaf, and Septa Roelle did give her that harsh lesson about looking in the mirror.

Poor girl, with that face she’ll never get anyone’s heart.

How sad.

Hey, better for the other guy - who’d want to give their heart to someone so ugly?

She - she knows that when you’re meant to be with someone, really meant to be, sometimes their heart makes its way to you and you’ll only give it back to them when you meet. It’s in all the songs.  But she never thought she’d get one.

And now -

She thinks she does have one. What else can it be, since it’s beating inside her palms?

She immediately gets out of the bed, feeling thankful for the umpteenth time that her father stayed home and didn’t go to war, just sent soldiers, and knocks at his door frantically until he opens it.

“Brienne, it’s the middle of the - what the -” He says as he looks down at her and at the golden light in between her palms.

“I - I was sleeping and then my bed turned so hot I had to wake up and that was - that just appeared out of nowhere. I - I have a heart!” She says, unable to contain the excitement, even if the moment she says it, she feels a wave of sadness come over her. She doesn’t know from where, but it makes her face fall just as she says it.

“Hey,” Father asks, “what’s wrong?”

“Nothing, uh, I just… felt really sad for a moment.”

“You know what,” he says, “get in.”

Brienne walks into his room and gets on the bed, still carefully holding the heart. She holds it out for Father to look at better, but she doesn’t let it go. His eyes narrow as he inspects it, and he mutters something under his breath as he sees the cracks. He touches it for a second and then retreats his hand at once.

“It’s… not burning to you, is it?”

“No,” Brienne says. “It’s warm. Oh.” The moment she says it, she feels sadder than before, tears coming to her eyes. “I don’t know what’s wrong,” she says as she wipes them with a hand, holding the heart with the other. “I’m not -”

“I think it’s not you,” Father says. “I think it’s the heart.”

“… How?”

He sighs. “I had your mother’s. And - I’m not, I mean, I’ve never seen that many, but hers was all bright. And light blue. And if I touched it I felt… either happy or, you know, worried, and I found out because we met at a ball at court and she wasn’t sure her father would accept my proposal. She told me later. And hers had stopped beating all the time I had it. Anyway, this one - isn’t looking too well.”

“It’s not?”

He shakes his head. “You see the cracks? The light is red. Unless it was red in the first place… it’s not normal.”

“Uh. When I got it first, it was racing. The beats, I mean.”

“Was it,” Father says. He looks back down at it, and that’s when he sees that the golden light dims a bit. It still stays there, though. There’s a bit more red now, but -

“I think,” Father finally says, “that whoever this belongs to, they - they aren’t doing very good right now. I mean, as far as hearts go, this looks… pretty battered. And I don’t like that it’s becoming redder by the moment.”

“But the golden light is so beautiful,” Brienne says. “It can’t belong to someone bad.”

“Oh, I can see that. I think it belongs to someone good. Someone who is really not doing well right now. And - it’s not my experience, but from what I know about hearts like this… well, you have to take really special care of it. I don’t know if it will make it better for sure… but you can’t just leave it there waiting for him to show up. You have to look after it.”

“I will,” Brienne says at once. “Of course I will. I swear it.”

“I knew you would,” her father smiles, and she sleeps there that night, keeping the heart curled against her chest.

–

Her septa tries to convince her to keep it at least on the nightstand, but when it becomes redder and redder in the next few days, Brienne refuses and puts her foot down. She brings it under the covers, her fingertips brushing over the golden-red light, noticing that the more she does it the more the red retreats a bit.

It’s always back the next morning, though, but as Father would say, there hasn’t been a moment in Brienne’s life when she wasn’t stubborn, and so she doesn’t give up on it.

–

The day she decides that she’d rather be a knight than a lady for good, because she’s done with people making fun of her whenever she shows up in dresses and she had already started seeing the appeal of a sword in her hands and the allure of being in songs singing of her brave deeds and not of her ugly face, it’s the day Ronnet Connington comes with his family for a visit on Tarth.

(Her father has never betrothed her and hasn’t tried - he knows she has the heart, and he said he would feel horrible promising her to anyone that’s not the owner. He also has seen that it’s been seven years and the red hasn’t retreated.)

She overhears him talking to someone, saying that no one would ever want her anyway, not when she looks like a sow in silk.

“You know,” she blurts, “I do have my intended’s heart. I just haven’t met him yet.” She probably shouldn’t have said it. But it just came out of her, hoping that it would shut him up.

“And I won’t believe it until I see it,” he sneers.

She goes back upstairs and takes it, and when he sees it he laughs.

“Oh, of course you got a broken one.”

“It’s not broken,” she protests.

“Please, it’s all red. Red hearts like that are broken and their owners are either useless or more effort than they’re worth. ‘Course you would get a broken one, who else would want you?”

“It’s not,” Brienne hisses, and at that he stops talking. She realizes her voice had turned cold. Very cold. A coldness that doesn’t belong to her, she’s never sounded like that, but it seems to come from the pulsing warmth in her hands, again - “and the day I find him you’ll see he’s not broken or damaged or unworthy. And I sure as the seven hells hope no one got saddled with yours.”

That shuts him up.

She smiles as she goes back upstairs. No one sees her, but if they had, they’d have thought her grin was sharper than usual.

When she goes back into the room, she places it back on the nightstand, caressing it.

“I’m going to become a knight,” she swears to it, seeing the red retreating ever so slightly, “and I’ll find you, and I’ll give this back to you, and I’ll make sure no one calls you broken to your face. That’s what knights do, don’t they?”

It pulses under her hands, still glowing.

It’s such a lovely shade of gold, Brienne thinks.

A really, really lovely shade.

[yourlocaldisneyvillain]

...the unholy flames of ♥kink!week♥ burn brightly...

(don't know what kink week is? click here!)

‧̍̊·̊‧̥°̩̥˚̩̩̥͙°̩̥‧̥·̊‧̍̊ ♡ °̩̥˚̩̩̥͙°̩̥ ·͙*̩̩͙˚̩̥̩̥*̩̩̥͙·̩̩̥͙*̩̩̥͙˚̩̥̩̥*̩̩͙‧͙ °̩̥˚̩̩̥͙°̩̥ ♡ ‧̍̊·̊‧̥°̩̥˚̩̩̥͙°̩̥‧̥·̊‧̍̊

∼ the ice is broken, and we have stepped foot into the unholy week -- what sort of sin awaits us today? ∼

∼ day two brings us our beloved knight ♥ Brienne of Tarth ♥ ∼

∼ tags and the fic are under the cut ∼

♥ i've worked very hard on this series — it was a huge project to undertake and i would very much appreciate if you left me comments with your thoughts and impressions — you already know they make my heart sing ♥ (AO3 link — i prefer it to tumblr vastly)

‧̍̊·̊‧̥°̩̥˚̩̩̥͙°̩̥‧̥·̊‧̍̊ ♡ °̩̥˚̩̩̥͙°̩̥ ·͙*̩̩͙˚̩̥̩̥*̩̩̥͙·̩̩̥͙*̩̩̥͙˚̩̥̩̥*̩̩͙‧͙ °̩̥˚̩̩̥͙°̩̥ ♡ ‧̍̊·̊‧̥°̩̥˚̩̩̥͙°̩̥‧̥·̊‧̍̊

tags: #lactation #lactation kink #erotic lactation #breastfeeding #hurt/comfort #lesbian sex #thigh riding #kissing #comfort #nightmares #feeding #veguely implied somnophilia but it's purposefully left unclear #kink!week

sweet dreams (clicking on the title will lead you to ao3)

Brienne manages to win the fight — but after she gives the last one of her attackers a final blow, making him fall onto the ground, blood seeping from his chest, she suddenly feels weak and dizzy. 

Nauseous, she collapses, falling onto her knees. She’s vaguely aware she’s wounded, but she can’t discern where or how much. She feels pain — a distant throbbing in her arm. There is something red in her peripheral vision. Blood? She can’t see. 

The world goes black.

‧̍̊·̊‧̥°̩̥˚̩̩̥͙°̩̥‧̥·̊‧̍̊ ♡ °̩̥˚̩̩̥͙°̩̥ ·͙*̩̩͙˚̩̥̩̥*̩̩̥͙·̩̩̥͙*̩̩̥͙˚̩̥̩̥*̩̩͙‧͙ °̩̥˚̩̩̥͙°̩̥ ♡ ‧̍̊·̊‧̥°̩̥˚̩̩̥͙°̩̥‧̥·̊‧̍̊

When she regains consciousness, she isn’t in the woods anymore. The surface underneath her is soft and dry. She opens her eyes. Above her is a wooden roof with thick beams. 

“Ah, you’re finally awake,” a feminine voice says. Brienne startles — winces, and then immediately hisses in pain — but she manages to turn her head to the side. 

Next to her, sitting on a little wooden chair, is a young woman that seems to be around Brienne’s age — but that’s about where the similarities end. The girl is very pretty — she has beautiful glowing skin, big brown eyes, thick dark eyebrows and hair, her lips are rosy and plump, and she’s all soft, womanly curves. 

She smiles at Brienne, putting the sewing work— or perhaps leatherwork? — she’s been working on. “You should take it easy. It’ll take some time for the wounds to heal.”

“Wounds?” Brienne says stupidly.

“Your arm and your chest — but you’ll be alright. I took care of them and cleaned them. They’re healing just fine.”

“Who are you?” Brienne asks. “And where am I?”

“I’m Rosie,” she answers and smiles again. 

Brienne can’t help but notice how lovely the girl looks — her teeth are healthy and white, her cheeks are flushed a pretty pink and her eyes have the most charming glint in them — especially when she smiles. 

“And I know who you are, Brienne of Tarth.”

Brienne says nothing. She feels fuzzy again. She can’t tell if she’s about to lose consciousness or fall asleep. She fights it, trying to blink the drowsiness away. 

“You saved our village from those crooks. They dwelled in the surrounding forest and kept us living in fear — robbing us, attacking women from the village, preventing us from living normal lives. I wasn’t allowed to do anything for months. Not that I could do much, really. I had a child just recently — but I would’ve liked to take a walk.”

Brienne is only half-aware of what the girl is telling her. She has a lovely voice, Brienne thinks, drifting in an out of consciousness. 

“My father found you, and we brought you here. I’ve gotten the task of taking care of you. I took it very seriously, you know. I love taking care of people.”

Brienne mumbles a ‘thank you,’ tries to form a coherent sentence, but her eyes are too heavy. 

“Aw, you poor thing,” Rosie says. “Sleep now, sweet Brienne. I’ll be here when you wake.”

Brienne sleeps.

‧̍̊·̊‧̥°̩̥˚̩̩̥͙°̩̥‧̥·̊‧̍̊ ♡ °̩̥˚̩̩̥͙°̩̥ ·͙*̩̩͙˚̩̥̩̥*̩̩̥͙·̩̩̥͙*̩̩̥͙˚̩̥̩̥*̩̩͙‧͙ °̩̥˚̩̩̥͙°̩̥ ♡ ‧̍̊·̊‧̥°̩̥˚̩̩̥͙°̩̥‧̥·̊‧̍̊

Rosie is there when Brienne wakes up from a nightmare. She remembers blood and pain and death, but not much else.

“How long have I slept?” she asks. “I must go.”

She knows she was in the woods for a reason, but she’s so drowsy, so sleepy — she can’t really remember the details. She’s still shaky from her nightmare.

“You can’t go anywhere, silly — not for another couple of days. You’ll lose consciousness on the road and hit your head somewhere.”

Brienne whines and protests, but she knows she couldn’t get up even if she wanted to. 

“We brought you here yesterday, and you slept most of the day. Today you woke up early in the morning. It’s afternoon now.”

Brienne nods in acknowledgement. “Thank you,” she says, finally letting herself relax into the bed, admitting to herself she can’t go anywhere just yet. “You’re very kind to me.”

“Oh, nonsense — you saved our village! Here, I have some porridge for you. Let me help you sit up.”

She sits Brienne up, and Brienne hisses and winces in pain. She notices she isn’t wearing her own clothes — instead she has a men’s undershirt on. 

“Your underthings were stained with blood. I washed them, but until they dry I don’t have anything else you’d fit in but my brother’s clothes. I hope you don’t mind,” Rosie says apologetically. She brushes Brienne’s hair from her forehead, and for some reason Brienne feels herself blush. Rosie’s touch is firm, but gentle. Brienne feels very safe with her.

“Here,” Rosie says, and Brienne realises the girl intends to feed her the porridge like a child. 

“I can eat by myself,” she says, but Rosie will have none of it.

“Nonsense. Open your mouth.”

Brienne doesn’t have it in her to argue, so she does as she’s told. 

“Good girl,” Rosie says, and Brienne blushes profusely. Nobody’s ever called her that. It feels… nice — like she’s done something good.

Rosie doesn’t comment on Brienne’s blushing cheeks, and instead feeds her porridge in silence. 

It’s rather nice to be taken care of, Brienne thinks as she swallows a spoonful of porridge, I shouldn’t get used to it. She can’t remember the last time somebody treated her with this much care — and a stranger, at that. 

“Did you have a nightmare?” Rosie asks as she feeds her.

“Why do you ask?”

Rosie brings the spoon to Brienne’s lips. “You were frowning in your sleep and saying things.”

“What did I say?” she asks and takes the spoon into her mouth.

“I didn’t get most of it. I just heard “no” and such. Do you have nightmares often?”

“Most nights,” Brienne says with her mouth full. “I’m used to it.”

Rosie says nothing further. 

After Brienne’s done eating, Rosie briefly disappears from the room to put away the empty bowl. Just as Brienne feels her limbs start to grow heavy with sleep, she returns. 

“Am I taking up someone’s bed? I don’t want to inconvenience you.”

“Nonsense,” says Rosie. “This is my bed.”

“And where is your husband?” Brienne asks, remembering Rosie has a child.

“Oh, he’s in the navy. He’s gone for months sometimes. I just take care of little Robbie, nurse him and such. I’ve little else to do. He’s such a good baby — he either feeds or sleeps. And my mother helps me when I need. Oh, and my father told me that he wants to speak to you — to thank you properly, when you feel better. But I don’t think you’re better quite yet — maybe tomorrow,” she muses.

Brienne has a feeling Rosie is the type of girl who knows how to get her way. She doesn’t mind — she fine doing as she’s told. She’s so very sleepy, anyway. 

“Here, have some water,” Rosie says and brings a cup sitting on the stool next to the bed to Brienne’s lips. Brienne realises she’s thirstier than she thought — she drinks most of the water from the cup. She feels a bit weird, being babied like this — but she doesn’t mind. It’s nice to be pampered for a change. 

“I really admire you, you know,” Rosie says, sitting down on the bed. “I think you’re so very brave. I could never do what you do.”

“You wouldn’t like what I do,” Brienne murmurs sleepily.

“No, I don’t think I would,” Rosie says, and shifts closer to Brienne. “You have really pretty eyes.”

“Yours are much prettier than mine,” Brienne replies. 

Rosie is right above her face, leaning over her. She looks at Rosie’s big, warm, brown eyes. Her stomach feels funny when Rosie’s this close to her — tingly somehow.

“Blue eyes are much rarer,” Rosie says. 

Brienne doesn’t have a response to that — Rosie won the argument. She smiles at Brienne, and Brienne feels fuzzy again, but… different fuzzy than before — she can’t quite place it. 

“When I first saw you, I thought you were a man,” Rosie says. Brienne isn’t surprised. “But I’m glad you aren’t.”

“Why?” 

Brienne softly gasps when their noses touch. She didn’t realise Rosie was that close.

“I don’t know,” Rosie says. She kisses Brienne’s cheek. Brienne’s skin tingles where Rosie’s soft lips touched it. She feels warm and fuzzy and sleepy. She wonders if she’s dreaming.

“I want to take care of you,” Rosie says. Brienne loves the feeling of Rosie’s warm breath on her cheek.

“People don’t take care of me,” she murmurs, her mind blurry with sleep. “Am I dreaming?” 

“Perhaps,” Rosie says and caresses her cheek and her neck. Her hands are soft and warm. Brienne wants her closer. “I don’t want you to have another nightmare.”

Brienne sleepily watches Rosie loosen her corset in the front and untie her shirt, pushing it aside. Her breasts spill out of the garment. They look soft and heavy — Brienne is mesmerised by them. She looks at the light pink nipples. They’re leaking milk. Her mouth waters.

Rosie pushes her breasts towards Brienne’s face. Brienne feels her cheeks grow hot. She’s in that delicious, not quite awake state — drifting on the edge of sleep. Her body and her mind feel heavy and fuzzy and warm. 

“This will calm you down,” Rosie says. “You won’t have nightmares anymore — not while I’m here.”

She takes her breast and gently presses it to Brienne’s lips. If Brienne were more awake, she’d question this more — but in her current state she only feels slight confusion which is quickly overridden by a pleasant, tingly feeling in her abdomen. 

She takes the rosy nipple into her mouth. “Suck,” Rosie says, and Brienne sucks. 

Rosie’s milk tastes sweet. Sweet, just like Rosie, is the only thought in Brienne’s mind. She loves the feeling of the soft, heavy breast pressing onto her face. She sucks, and her cheeks are hot, and she feels a bit embarrassed, but she doesn’t stop. She’s unsure whether she’s dreaming or awake.

Rosie cradles her head with one hand and with the other she caresses Brienne’s chest — gently, feather-light. Brienne’s skin tingles. She gets goosebumps all over her torso and arms.

Rosie’s hand ventures lower, slips underneath her shirt, traces patterns on Brienne’s stomach. Brienne softly whimpers when Rosie runs her fingers over her pubic hair. 

“Just suck,” Rosie says, her voice breathy, and Brienne feels hot all over. She does as she’s told, and continues to drink Rosie’s sweet, creamy milk. A coil starts building in her belly as Rosie runs her fingers over the wet folds between her legs, circles the hard bud there. She feels Rosie’s wetness on her thigh as Rosie starts grinding on it, hot and slick, and she hears Rosie’s soft, sweet moans of pleasure — or perhaps those are her own. She sucks on Rosie’s hard nipple, heavy breast pressing on her lips, and the coil in her belly grows tighter and tighter until it finally snaps and Brienne cries lets out a muffled cry. Rosie grinds harder on her thigh before crying out as well and falling forwards, pushing her breasts into Brienne’s face.  

Rosie gently removes her breast from Brienne’s mouth and then kisses Brienne’s wet lips — slowly and with curiosity. Brienne kisses back. She loves how soft and plump Rosie’s lips are. Rosie licks Brienne’s lower lip and places a chaste, soft kiss on the corner of her mouth, then her cheek. Brienne feels like she’s floating. 

“Sleep, my brave Brienne,” she whispers softly, and Brienne sleeps.

‧̍̊·̊‧̥°̩̥˚̩̩̥͙°̩̥‧̥·̊‧̍̊ ♡ °̩̥˚̩̩̥͙°̩̥ ·͙*̩̩͙˚̩̥̩̥*̩̩̥͙·̩̩̥͙*̩̩̥͙˚̩̥̩̥*̩̩͙‧͙ °̩̥˚̩̩̥͙°̩̥ ♡ ‧̍̊·̊‧̥°̩̥˚̩̩̥͙°̩̥‧̥·̊‧̍̊

When she awakes once again, Rosie is next to her bed. She talks to her like nothing happened, and Brienne wonders if it was all a dream. 

“Did you have nightmares again?” Rosie asks as she brings a glass of water to Brienne’s mouth. Brienne remembers how soft Rosie’s lips were on her own, and her belly tingles.

“No,” she says. “I’m surprised. I can’t remember the last time I didn’t have them.”

“Good,” Rosie says and smiles brightly. Her face glows and her eyes twinkle. Brienne’s heart flutters. “You should get some more rest. My father will want to speak to you today.”

Brienne nods.

“I have to go feed Robbie. Call for me if you can’t sleep,” she says and gives Brienne a kiss on the cheek. Brienne blushes. 

When she falls asleep, she dreams of Rosie leaning over her bed, kissing her. She awakes sweaty and hot, with a throbbing between her thighs. 

She ignores it.

‧̍̊·̊‧̥°̩̥˚̩̩̥͙°̩̥‧̥·̊‧̍̊ ♡ °̩̥˚̩̩̥͙°̩̥ ·͙*̩̩͙˚̩̥̩̥*̩̩̥͙·̩̩̥͙*̩̩̥͙˚̩̥̩̥*̩̩͙‧͙ °̩̥˚̩̩̥͙°̩̥ ♡ ‧̍̊·̊‧̥°̩̥˚̩̩̥͙°̩̥‧̥·̊‧̍̊

Brienne recovers quickly — in the next couple of days she’s ready to leave and continue her quest. The village people wish her a lot of luck, and give her many gifts for her brave act. 

Rosie gives her a leather bracelet. “I made it while you were sleeping,” she says. 

Brienne thanks her and ignores the tug in her chest and the urge to kiss those pink, pretty lips. When she leaves, she doesn’t look back.

‧̍̊·̊‧̥°̩̥˚̩̩̥͙°̩̥‧̥·̊‧̍̊ ♡ °̩̥˚̩̩̥͙°̩̥ ·͙*̩̩͙˚̩̥̩̥*̩̩̥͙·̩̩̥͙*̩̩̥͙˚̩̥̩̥*̩̩͙‧͙ °̩̥˚̩̩̥͙°̩̥ ♡ ‧̍̊·̊‧̥°̩̥˚̩̩̥͙°̩̥‧̥·̊‧̍̊

Years pass, and after a while Rosie feels like a distant dream. Brienne rarely remembers her during waking hours.

However, when she can’t sleep, or is awoken by a nightmare — which, thankfully, happens less often than before — she still clutches the leather bracelet to her chest and imagines the feeling of Rosie’s nipple in her mouth and the soft breast pressing into her face, recalls the sweet taste of Rosie’s milk on her tongue. She remembers the warmth, the tingling, and the softness of her lips. She feels fuzzy and sleepy and safe.

She always sleeps peacefully until morning.

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[aviss]

The Jaime x Brienne fandom is luckily blessed with many amazing writers and artists, I keep trying to make some of a rec list but keep getting distracted by the shiny and new, and also because I don’t know what to say. I’ll leave here some of the fics I’ve recently read and enjoyed.

A whole week of bad days by wordtheef

Modern AU where Jaime and Brienne are flatmates and end up in a FWB arrangement. They don’t have the healthiest of relationships in the beginning, they kind of forget the friends part in the friends with benefit, and Cersei is still a thing, but I quite enjoyed the exploration and the kink and the suppressed feelings. And Wordtheef’s characterization of them, which is somewhat harsher than I usually go for but which I loved.

i fear no fate (for you are my fate) by @agirlnamedkeith​

Brienne takes Jaime to Tarth as her prisoner to save his life. Jaime doesn’t deal well with this. I simply adore this fic, the writing is gorgeous, you can feel the hurt and grief in Jaime in his apathy, and how he hits back. and feel Brienne’s helplessness wanting to help but unsure how.

a rope in hand for your other man by djelibeybi

Jaime fights Hyle after they deal with LSH. Who doesn’t want to see Jaime beating the shit out of Hyle Hunt? And it’s so well done in this fic, from Hyle’s POV, we get to see Jaime being a loveable asshole but so soft with Brienne. And there is jealousy and eavesdropping and all the god things we’re praying for in TWOW. 

Little talks by robotsdance

Brienne isn’t at Winterfell when Jaime arrives, the whole trial goes very, very differently. Brienne gets back in the nick of time to save his life, because of course she does, and does it in a way that will make everyone reading it go “yep, I can totally see that happening”. It’s worth it just to see Brienne being the most badass in the entire universe, but the avoidance and conclusion afterwards are also lovely.

i carry your heart (i carry it in my heart) by @lionoflannistarth​

WIP. Iron Man AU. That’s all I needed to know to be completely sold on it, being a Tony Stark fangirl since forever. Add to that Brienne as Yinsen, and an amazing detailed writing style that makes you feel like you are watching it happen, lots of great banter and the pining. I can’t wait for it to be updated.

in the wild blue yonder, your star is fixed (in my sky) by @firesign23​

WIP. After everything, Jaime and Brienne get married for political reasons. They try to keep it practical and stay just friends, regardless of their shared history. As if that would work. Right, so most people are probably already reading this, and they should because it’s so good. She’s killing me with all that gorgeous angst and the feelings and two seemingly intelligent people being dumbasses when it comes to each other. 

Life’s not a Song by @luthienebonyx​

WIP. Sansa’s POV of Jaime’s arrival at Winterfell and his relationship with Brienne. There is much to recommend in the entire series this is part of, but this one grabbed my attention, maybe because I love external POV, but Sansa’s emotions and doubts are so well done, and it touches points that were ignored in the show. Another one I can’t wait to get an update.

Look after you by @pretty--thief​

Jaime listens to Brienne sing. Book canon starting right after LSH, and with such a simple premise she weaves a lovely fic, following three important points in their lives. All three parts are beautiful, though my favourite is the second one where we get to see pining and battle and comfort, all the best things :)

The tides by @slipsthrufingers​

Canon divergence where a recently maimed Jaime goes to Tarth to negotiate with the Evenstar whether they get the money they need to save their island. Instead of Selwyn he’s stuck with Brienne. Look, I know this has been rec’ed before. There is a reason for it. It’s gorgeous and everyone should read it. Both Jaime and Brienne are broken in different ways, but their broken pieces fit together. And also, I wanted to go on holiday to Tarth just based on the descriptions, so beautiful. 

Some of the authors I don’t know their tumblr, if they have one, if anyone knows it so I can link it, I’d be grateful :)

[the-lightless-star]

Marred by Memories

The candlelight flickered against the thread-bare tent as Brienne strained to get a better look at Jaime's arm. With a needle in hand, she took to prodding his tender skin to remove tiny splinters from his stump.

Jaime hissed, jerking his arm from her grasp as she removed a large piece from deep within the skin. "Would you sit still?" Brienne quietly scolded, pulling his arm tighter.

"But it hurts," Jaime whined, biting back a wince.

Brienne bit back a soft smile, "Ser Jaime Lannister, slayer of the mad king, the golden lion of the rock, and warrior of the Long Night, felled by firewood."

Rubbing his tender skin, he growled in return, "Well, we can't all have noble jobs like you, my lady. Though if asked again to choose between moving bodies or gathering wood, I'd still choose the latter," he nudged her gently with his stump, "splinters and all."

It had been just over two weeks since King's Landing had been sacked. Leveled to ash and rubble. One week since Brienne wearily marched into camp, fearing what she might find amongst the carnage when the smoke cleared.

Nightmares had plagued her for days after he left her in Winterfell, growing in gruesome detail with each passing night. In her mind, she could see him clearly, golden hand reaching out from the rubble, head gently cradled on his sister's chest as they clung to one another in death.

With guidance from a weary Davos, she had found Jaime picking through the stone of the Red Keep. Covered in blood and soot, she almost mistook him for a boy, small and frail from behind. His golden hand was gone, his clothes torn and singed in places, his exposed skin blistered from intense heat.

He would later confess to her with wild eyes that he watched Cersei fall. After begging her to surrender, she had refused him, her intensity manic. Striding across the room to retrieve a wine glass as if she could not hear the sound of her people burning alive. The dragon had clipped the Tower of the Hand, sending the heavy stone crashing into the holdfast. Jaime had been thrown back from the force, and Cersei disappeared as the stone beneath her crumbled.

He had looked so lost when she found him. Unable to speak above a weak croak, he was turning stones over with his stump, attempting in vain to search for life beneath the Red Keep.

He had sobered up since she'd arrived, going away inside as he pushed the trauma to the recesses of his mind. He had remained busy, completing any task he was given and resting only when his body betrayed him into sleep.

They found themselves in a small encampment just outside the Iron Gate. Though the White Sword Tower and Maidenvault remained untouched by the fires of battle, Jaime refused to rest within. Whether motivated by guilt or fear, she did not know.

Grabbing a poultice from the bedside, Brienne grabbed his stump once more, beginning to knead the sensitive skin in firm strokes. Jaime lay against the blankets closing his eyes as she went through her ministrations. His chest was bare, his thin frame exposed to the warm air. The seasons were changing, and the chill that had made its way south had all but disappeared. A heaviness lingered in the air. The ash had created a haze upon the city, falling like snow and trapping them beneath a tent of immense humidity.

Jaime had taken to stripping to his smallclothes upon entry into the tent. She stared longingly. Her once demure glances had changed to desire, though she chastised herself for entertaining such thoughts as he suffered.

His breathing had slowed and evened, left hand pressed to his heart, relaxed and safe in her presence. Brienne took her time, her movements practiced. Fingertips making a trail around his stump, as her eyes made a similar journey down his body.

His golden locks, once pure and shining, now dark and peppered with gray. His beard had grown longer since Winterfell, the short prickling hairs now smooth and soft to the touch. His collarbone stood shockingly prominent beneath his shoulders. The hard lines on his body, evidence of malnutrition, and intense stress. Scars and bruises marred his torso, his imperfections on display, unabashedly before her.

"Beautiful," she breathed, before kissing his stump softly and laying his arm at his side. Rising to ready for bed, Brienne turned away from Jaime, putting away the poultice and placing his discarded shirt on the bedside chair. While ensuring the tent flap was tightly secured, Brienne could hear a familiar refrain outside.

The faint wails of mourners in the distance, continuing grief as more bodies were discovered beneath the city. The drunken laughter of soldiers imbibing to keep the terrors of the night at bay.

She could feel heat spread through her body from moans of pleasure in the distance as people sought comfort in each other's arms.

Unbuttoning her shirt to allow the breeze of the night air to cool her skin, a coarse voice whispered in return, "Beautiful."

Jaime didn't need to see her face to know the hardening of her jaw at his words. The stiffening of her shoulders bracing for the inevitable jape to follow. Turning to face him, Brienne drew her open shirt tightly across her chest.

Jaime patted the covers, inviting her to return to her seat beside him. Brienne reluctantly complied, perching on the edge of the bed.

"No," he admonished, "Come here."

Knowing full well, there was little room for her to lay beside him, he meant for her to sit astride him.

"I'm strong enough," he reminded her before she could refuse.

Brienne acquiesced and closed her eyes as his stump traced the line where her skin met the collar of her shirt. Lightly dancing across her skin, he came to the scars across her neck. Taking his time, he traced each one clumsily. The remnant of the poultice leaving a cool path with its touch.

"We make a handsome pair, my lady."

She opened her eyes to find his face devoid of amusement. A hard-line had formed on his brow as he swallowed thickly. Before he could draw his stump away, she grabbed it and kept it pressed firmly to her neck, kissing it reverently.

She whispered softly, "Scars are just another type of memory. We do well to remember them."

Jaime nodded, a soft groan escaping his lips as her hand began to roam his chest. Her exploration ceased as she reached his collarbone to trace a thick scar than ran from his shoulder to his back.

Reading the question in her eyes, he spoke softly.

"We used to play amongst the cliffs at the Rock. With Mother gone, we would escape the servants and do what we pleased. Father couldn't be bothered to look after us." Jaime swallowed hard as he met Brienne's stare.

"Cersei told me she wanted to jump from the cliffs but was too frightened to do it alone. She mocked me at my hesitance, and you know I've never been one to stand down from a challenge. We counted together and ran for the cliff's edge. I jumped, only realizing I had jumped alone when I heard her laughing as I fell. My shoulder caught the sharp edge of the rock facing as I hit the shallow water. Father was absolutely monstrous over the whole ordeal." His eyes look down at the offending spot as she traced it.

"Cersei could convince me of anything," he whispered, "even at that age."

His watery gaze met hers as she leaned close and pressed a chaste kiss to his shoulder. He released a heavy sigh as the touch of her lips left his skin.

As a means of distraction, Jaime began his own exploration. Grabbing her hand and turning it until her palm faced upward, he exposed a series of thin white scars marring the pale skin between her wrist and fingers.

Brienne's hand trembled in his grasp, thinking back to their source. "Septa Roelle learned pretty quickly that her cruel words did little to deter me from behavior unbecoming a girl of my station." Her words dripping with contempt as she remembered the vile woman

"Her taunts began to fuel me to act out further in defiance. She decided we would start having our lessons on the West facing balcony of Evenfall Hall. That particular view overlooked the stables and the armory where Ser Goodwin trained the men of Tarth to use the sword."

Brienne felt Jaime's grip tighten and looked up to find him nodding for her to continue.

"When I would get distracted from my studies by the echoing steel below, she would demand I present my hands palm up, and proceed to take a rod and strike me until I cried out. In my stubbornness, it would often take a few attempts. She knew it would render me unable to spar for a few days and that Father would assume my hands were sore from working with Ser Goodwin on my grip."

Chin wavering, she confessed bravely, "I think she delighted in her mistreatment. The Gods had cursed her with a great beast for a charge, and she knew it her duty teach me so."

Jaime's eyes were alight with anger and bit back a curse under his breath. He brought the marred palm to his lips, the hair of his beard tickling the sensitive skin, and held her gaze as his mouth met her hand.

"You are no great beast, my lady," he avowed, quieting her rebuke with a finger against her lips, "No matter what any bitter old septa or oathbreaking bastard says."

She knew he thought of those japes often. The cruelty he used against her as they traveled together toward King's Landing. Brienne thought back to that first night, the once golden lion wrapped in chains, covered in mud and shit, waiting to die. Claws no longer sharp, yet lashing out at any brave enough to get close to his cage.

Jaime had long since paid for his wrongdoings in unimaginably painful ways. She would do well to help him leave those burdens behind.

Jaime leaned back on his forearm, watching Brienne trace patterns on his skin with her long fingertips. He winced as her hand traveled over the bruised skin of his torso. His side was tender as her hand came to rest upon a sensitive spot, where a thin scar lay hidden between his ribs. He remembered her touch as she would trace its path each night in Winterfell, the rhythm putting him to sleep as she lay curled behind him.

He smiled at her prodding, his chest puffed out in pride. He put his hand over hers and pressed it tight to his skin.

"When I squired for Lord Crakehall, the Kingswood Brotherhood had become quite a nuisance. King Aerys sent out a few members of his Kingsguard, and we accompanied them to the Kingswood."

He stared past her, smiling at a forgotten memory. "I was more excited than I had any right to be. Wondering how I had found myself in the company of such men. As soon as we drew our swords, my blood starting to sing, and I knew there was nothing else I wanted to do."

"I was cocky, mind you, and inexperienced," he added. Brienne pursing her lips in mock surprise at his confession.

"But I was quick, and a good study. At one point, I traded blows with the Smiling Knight," he gushed.

Brienne could see the young boy, alive with excitement, in his eyes. To stand among men of honor, to fight beside them, and be counted among them.

"I protected Lord Crakehall from Big Belly Ben, but not before one of the Brotherhood caught me with the tip of his blade. I didn't even know I had been hit, my heart was racing so fast."

His smile was contagious, and Brienne couldn't help but grin. "You were knighted soon after, yes?"

He nodded as he touched the faded scar, the first of many he would receive in service to the realm. "Ser Arthur told me all men must bleed, blood is the seal of our devotion."

His smile turned heavy, no doubt recounting the many decisions he would make as he grew in his knighthood, choices that would cause him to question the very oaths he swore to uphold.

Jaime winced as he shifted underneath her. Thinking herself too heavy, she moved to get up.

With a hand to her lower back, he stilled her movements.

"Just a little sore, it's not you," he whispered.

Jaime studied her face, taking in the crooked bend of her nose and the freckles that ran rampant across her cheeks, before settling upon the small scar that formed a line across her top lip. Tightening his stump around her back to pull her flush to his chest, he nuzzled the spot with his lips. Brienne could feel the building heat as he pressed closer.

Distracting him from pursuing her further, she began to talk, recalling the events that led to the mark upon her face.

"Father entertained many noble houses at Evenfall after mother died. Whether in an attempt to make a match for himself or me, I do not know. Most of the time, he would make sure I was kept away. He knew my disdain for court, and my appearance was offputting to many. But I remember Father introducing me to a young heir, from House Wyld, perhaps, I'm not sure."

Brienne feathered her fingers through Jaime's hair, scratching lightly at the back of his neck where his hair had grown long.

"Father told me that the boy was quite the swordsman, and it would be an honor to spar with him. I was excited, not having had much training against younger opponents, and Father was not usually so accepting of my want to practice the blade. Needless to say, as soon as the adults were out of earshot, the boy spewed vile things about me, my family, and our island. I did not wish to dishonor my Father, so I sheathed my sword and turned to walk away. I didn't get a couple of steps away when he caught the braid of my hair and twisted it around in his fist."

Brienne's grip on Jaime's hair tightened as she held her chin up and continued. "I pulled free and managed to charge him, knocking him to the ground. When he put his hands up to block me, his signet ring sliced my face."

"Father found us there. I had him pinned to the ground. Blood covering both of us. He never even asked me what happened. I was punished for provoking and attacking our guests and bringing shame to Tarth. Lord Wyld told my Father he would spread news of it among the Stormlands and, if he continued to look for a match for his daughter, he might want to hide her from view in the future."

A grim line formed on Brienne's face. "I went up to my room and decided to cut off my hair. The less a man had to use against me, the better."

Jaime thread his fingers through the thin hair at the base of her neck. Leaning in, he placed a chaste kiss to the small scar. Brienne closed her eyes, savoring the pressure of his lips on her skin. Opening his mouth ever so slightly, Jaime sought permission to deepen the kiss. Her mouth parted as he claimed her lower lip.

Jaime's hand began to roam, tugging lightly on the thin fabric that kept her body hidden from him. Uncovering her chest, Jaimie ran his palm across her breasts, the thin covering of her smallclothes separating them from his eager hand.

Brienne rested her head on his shoulder, arching into his touch. Her breath hot on his neck, Jaime groaned as her lips made their way toward his jaw. Her thighs tightened their grip, pinning his legs between them.

Jaime dipped his hand beneath the thin fabric covering her breasts, running his thumb over the softness, eliciting a gasp as he pinched the supple skin.

As their kisses grew more fervent, Brienne began to rock her hips, the rhythm of her body casting shadows on the tent walls, firelight flickering with the wind.

Jaime gripped her waist, watching as her body moved over him. Her eyes were tightly shut, unaware of his intense gaze. Her limbs moved as they did in battle, muscles tightening and releasing with unbridled strength. Her chest heaving with each breath, gasping for air in the thick heat of the night. With each movement of her body, there was immense power, able to crush him under its weight. But it was tempered with gentleness, her body acutely aware of its strength.

Her movements became labored as she pressed her forehead against his, strength waning as her weight became heavier against his body.

Rising to meet her thrusts, he gripped her hips painfully in his grasp as she buried her face in his neck, breaths puffing rapidly against his skin.

He knew he wouldn't last long, his body desperate after being separated from her. Her moans grew audible, signaling to him that she was close. He had quickly learned she was all but silent during lovemaking, her resolve to stay quiet, a battle she fought against herself. Jaimie found pleasure in watching as her body betrayed her, giving way to cries and moans as she finally let go.

Brienne took his mouth in her own, cradling his jaw in her hands. Pouring every ounce of herself into a bruising kiss.

He felt her legs tighten painfully, and her head drop against his shoulder, her movements becoming erratic before stilling all together. Her legs shook with her release, arms tightening around his shoulders as she let go.

Jaime held her close, his own peak coming right after. He gripped her just as tight, gasping as his eyes rolled back. They rocked against each other softly, whispering incoherently as they came down.

Noticing Jaimie's legs trembling from holding the weight of her body, Brienne quickly eased herself off. She blushed as she took in the sight of him. Chest still heaving, he lay against the back of the bed, lips swollen and wet, body flushed, and hair sticking up in all directions. She had done that.

Brienne quickly retrieved a small cloth, wetting it and returning to the bed. The candlelight was slowly dying. Her eyes strained to adjust.

She tugged on the waistband of his underclothes, "budge up," she whispered as she helped him remove the soiled garment.

His hand gripped her forearm as he watched her gently clean him in the dim light. Moving away to change her clothes, he watched as she gathered her bedroll and placed it near the tent's entrance.

"Brienne?" he called out.

She hummed in response.

"Come to bed," he encouraged.

"I did not think you wished to keep me in your bed," she explained.

"You think I wish to use you to get off and then discard you to the floors, wench?" he questioned in confusion.

"No, it's just that I hear you at night. You thrash, and you weep. You call out her name," her voice dropping to a near whisper, "I do not wish to cloud your mind further."

"Brienne, please?" he tried once more.

Ambling over to the bed, she tentatively squeezed in behind him, their bodies too big to fit on the small frame.

He reached behind him, pulling her arm around his waist and placing it on his chest. She could feel the rapid beat of his heart against her palm. She pressed her cheek against his back and tucked her knees behind his.

"You are right," he stated.

"I dream of her each night," he confessed, keeping a tight grip on her hand, feeling her attempts to pull away.

"I dream of her eyes as they stare at me in disgust after I returned without my sword hand. As I dared to step into her presence, no longer a mirror image of her beauty."

Jaime began to stroke Brienne's hand as it pressed tighter to his chest.

"I dream of her maniacal laughter as she blew up the sept and contributed to the death of my only living child, and blame myself for not being there to prevent it."

Tears began to run unchecked as he continued.

"I dream of her sending Golden Company to Tarth, to set fire to your home and kill everyone that you hold dear, all because you chose to align yourself with me. An oathbreaker, a man without honor."

He stopped her before she could reply. "She cannot hurt me anymore, save for my dreams. You are the only thing that keeps them at bay."

"Please, Brienne," he pleads in the darkness.

She shushes him and pulls him tighter against her body. Her fingertips beginning the familiar rhythm. Passing from one scar to the next, she feels his breathing even out as his weight sags against her.

She continues her path across his body, each mark a memory, her hands guarding them as they pass through the night.

(aleighcarlisle on Ao3) https://archiveofourown.org/works/24476812

[wackygoofball]

Gwenspiration: The Wacky Version Vol. 3 - The Moodboards

So, here I go again parading myself and tooting like there is no tomorrow.

As people still brave enough to follow me on Tumblr will know, I do a lot of moodboards, or at least I call them such. Others call them collages or storyboards or pictures with random text. Either way, for me, moodboards became a neat tool to somehow capture story ideas not yet anywhere near a level that I could write fic about them - or serve as inspirations for fics I am actually writing.

And it gives me opportunity to hoard unhealthy amounts of Gwen and Nik pics, in the name of moodboards. And science. And stuff. Whoozah!

So yeah, in this post, I want to share some of my personal favorites. A lot of them actually, because I can’t decide, really.

I will start off with a group of moodboards which took inspiration from the Marvel universe, since the Marvel universe was my gateway into the more active parts of fandom.

Link

An all-time fave is the Iron Man AU... I mean, what not to love about a JB AU with Jaime as sassy Tony Stark and Brienne as the not-taking any shit from you army doctor, am I right? But yeah, seriously, Jaime *is* the Tony Stark of the GOT universe, and I can’t be convinced otherwise. And neither should be you.

Also, the Iron Man suits just totally fit the color scheme for both, which made creating the moodboards all the better for me. Jaime and Brienne were made for armor, now in medieval or modern times, let’s not kid ourselves.

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Another Marvel fave has got to be Captain Westeros. Because if there is a female GOT Version of Steve Rogers, it’s gotta be Brienne of fuckin’ Tarth. This one is really close to my heart because it gave me a lot of feels coming up with plot bunnies for it, and the tragedy of those two people missing each other in time over and over again, always trying to protect one another, only to end up on opposite sides because of the machinations of others... *sigh*

And I mean, one guy loses an arm. The other is blond and strong... I don’t make the rules but this delivers me enough material to re-imagine this as a JB AU... so yeah, I do kinda make the rules after all. Anyway.

Since I realized that this post’s gonna get even looooonger, I decided to make a cut here and put the rest below, so not to have you scrolling for five hours.

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Although it’s not the most popular moodboard amongst my followers (you brave people, I can’t parade you enough for staying through the madness lol), I really, really love that Fantastic Four moodboard and the concept behind it. And I just know a lot of effort went into making Valyrian Steel Brienne, which took all of my three computer editing skillz brain cells. But yeah, here again, I liked to play with the idea of them not admitting to their love until shit hits the fan and then they hide behind that because... drama, angst, feels, pining, yadda.

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And we go from Marvel to DC little quick. Because Brienne is, most certainly, a Wonder Woman. Nuf said.

Now, let’s move on to other big movie franchises that give me all the JB feels:

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Jurassic Park (aka Valyrian Park) evidently holds a special place in my heart because JB fighting dinosaur-dragon hybrids and kicking ass while being disbelieving about what was bred out in Valyria thanks to some certain someones to rescue Brienne’s adoptive daughter Arya is just... a thing? For me anyway.

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More down memory lane, I don’t know how often I watched the LOTR movies, suffice to say it was a lot a lot. We had the extended versions DVDs of the first two and basically it was the one thing to watch when nothing was on (which was the case a lot). Either way. JB in MIddle Earth long after the days of Frodo et al. - why? Because I just loved the idea (and aesthetic) of Jaime as a ranger and Brienne as a knight of Gondor working in disguise. And Hobbipod. I mean, Pod as a Hobbit. Come the fuck on. And Tyrion as an asshole wizard. What could possibly go wrong? This moodboard was very time-consuming as I had to do a lot of edits (pointy ears, tiny up people, smudge Brienne’s face on a lot of Boromir and Faramir images, smudge Jaime’s face on a lot of Aragorn images, you name it). So yeah. No matter its popularity... I dig it. Despite not having read the books yet (I know, shocking), I continue to ogle at the idea and go like: Must. Write. But. Must. Resist. Either way. Mood.

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So yeah, I grew up watching these movies a lot, too (I grew up watching a lot of TV, period). And when Gwen was cast as Captain Phasma, I got a lot of JB juices flowing as a result. Mehe. I found it was a fun idea to play with, to basically *kill* Phasma so *Brienne* can come into play and assume her identity. And a rundown Jedi!Jaime who’s lost faith in himself and everything else safe for his partner in crime/resistance is just... I needz. So you gotta cope with it. I still adore this concept a lot even if others may not. :)

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This one’s just... gah. Feels. And I really liked the color scheme lol. And I watched Horse Whisperer A LOT. Because of feels. And horses. And Honor is a horse and he deserved better than be barbecued at Highgarden, dammit.

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The No Reservations AU definitely has to be in this post because I live for this dynamic. Brienne taking care of the girls, not knowing how, though, constantly doubting herself while always trying to be perfect and composed, not just in life but on the job as well. And Jaime being the laid-back guy who’s just a darn good chef but may carry his own baggage of problems that keep him from his happy ending story is just... mah jam.

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This one was a lot of fun to do because you don’t really think about Erin Brockovich when you say Brienne of Tarth in terms of character. But when you scratch away the boob jokes and the differences in where they come from, what you find are two hard-working women who fight for justice, so I found that close enough. And it was excuse enough for me to go down the lane of biker!Jaime because... dayum.

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Music and Lyrics is an all-time guilty pleasure romcom of mine. It’s so light and easy and I kind of love how everyone is basically a bunch of awkward losers. All the more perfect for Jaime as a singer (we need that in our lives after the infamous video Nik was in to sing to us about global warming...) and Brienne as the unexpectedly gifted songwriter. What I like about the moodboard per se is how the color scheme turned out because it’s all warm and bright and... makes me happy.

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Very much in contrast to the former stands this one. I still love the overall mood of it and I dig the story idea because I dug both The Prestige and The Illustionist because they presented something dark yet very different, which made it all the more appealing to put into a moodboard for me. While not the most well-known moodboard of mine, I keep going back to it time and time again to basically lust at all the illusions and magic and drama. And blue butterflies.

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What is there not to love about a Pacific Rim AU for JB, am I right? Right?! JB ain’t just compatible when it comes to the Drift, yo, that’s all I’m gonna say. Reasons why I like the moodboard a lot is that it’s very different, flashy colors, gigantic robots, and I was mostly alright with how the edits turned out. It is tough to get images that fit the angles, yo.

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Jumping back in time once more, I really adore this one even though it’s not one of my popular moodboards. I dug the fusion of elements from Cinderella Man while granting Brienne as the female lead more space to develop as a character and make her a badass sniper nurse who is about to get her doctor’s degree. And Jaime doing anything to make it work because he owes her a debt (and his love) by boxing his way to their shared life is just... nice.

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Another supposedly lesser known moodboard is this one, though I really adore it for its premise and the amount of work I put into it (all the giffing and moodboarding). I also found use for that image of Gwen with what looks like the veil of a nun, which was probably what had me inspired in the first place lol. The plot bunnies revolve less around Se7en and more the novel El ùltimo Catón (2001) because it has a nun solving a mystery revolving around Dante’s works. But Se7en gives us the Seven, which is a delicious parallel too hard to ignore. For me at least. If only I knew how to write crime, dammit.

Now, to  move more into the serial (smooth transition from serial killer to serial TV shows, I know, I know) way of life, here is some moodboards inspired by TV shows (although some have since gotten movies which I also took inspiration from... yadda):

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Childhood memory galore. I spent many weekends watching The A-Team with the whole family. When the movie came out, I was happy about the feels it gave me (and the “you spin my head right round” scene still cracks me up more often than it should). Either way. I found it absolutely necessary for Jaime to be Face, for Tyrion to be Hannibal, for Bronn to be B.A. and cuss at everyone and everything and Brienne giving us the strangest genderbend of a Howling Mad Murdock. It added some angst, which I always need because I am a thirsty hoe for it. In case no one noticed yet. Ha.

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This one is very remotely inspired by The Bletchley Circle and the Imitation Game (because both feature encryption and one features Charles Dance already, yo.) I just really dug the idea of Brienne being so good at this because she is such a straight thinker but being underestimated because “she a woman.” And of course her not being done just encoding messages but getting into action, very much to the dismay of the stupid soldier wanting to defend the bae from harm. What could possibly go wrong? Right. A lot.

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Then. Elementary. Let me count the ways in which I love that show... ALL THE WAYS. And I really dig it as a JB AU. I have so many thoughts and feelings, I can’t even begin to tell you. I especially had my fun basically making Jaime Sherlock without making him really Sherlock because that guy was the one who taught him how to be an investigator before disappearing and fucking up his life for bad. And Brienne as the army doctor turned sober companion turned private investigator turned love interest is just too delicious to ignore.

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Pants down I mean hands down, this may be the actual favorite (currently) amongst them all for the plain reason that I also grew up watching that series and still watch it and keep obsessing about it. Ever since Discovery launched and has since given me both joy and grief, I found myself intrigued by the premise of a JB Star Trek AU where Brienne would be standing *with* the Klingons during the war around the time Discovery takes place, and Captain Jaime Lannister having lost far too much to this war already to truly trust anyone, even less so a woman who ran to the Klingons, for what it seems.

You would not believe how many ideas I have for a fic based on it. You wouldn’t believe that I basically have a sequel to that fic already in mind. And you would definitely believe, knowing me, that I am nowhere near writing that fic. But a fangirl can dream and moodboard, right? The moodboard was such a fun way of going about it, not only for the edits but because I could sneak some secret Klingon messages in there. :)

Now, on to the last part, which are the moodboards not inspired by movies or TV shows primarily but really just spewed out of my wacky, wacky brain:

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This has a special place in my heart because it combines military and the traumas it comes with for JB and.... the aesthetic of farming. And both finding a kind of peace they didn’t know they were looking for as they struggle to adjust and find their way back “to normal” after the horrors they have both seen in war. And did I mention the aesthetic? And Jaime in plaid? All dirty and sweaty? Do I have to say more?

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Why this one? Because it combines angst and romance and falling in love twice because DESTINY. And paintings. I love me my artist AUs. So that was my go at it, combining it with the “mystery” to be uncovered about what history Jaime and Brienne actually share as he tries to put his memories back together.  Also. This moodboard gave me opportunity to try out new filters and create JB paintings. :)

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This one’s gotta be on the list since I also added the Horse Whisperer. Now it’s Dog Whisperer Jaime and Brienne who won’t give up on her dog who’s seen some shit in the warzone (as did she, but Brienne will put it all aside for her doggish best buddy, of course). While it’s not a very popular moodboard of mine, I really enjoy the premise of it and how the dynamics can so easily change between the two of them if you see it in comparison to the Horse Whisperer AU. Also. I just really think Jaime is a total pet person.

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Another lesser known moodboard, I’d assume, but I really dug the premise of it (still do), and it was intriguing to do some edits to make Jaime’s hand *truly* golden lol. With people having developed strange mutations which aren’t nearly as much fun as they are in Fantastic Four AUs. What I liked about it was the idea that Brienne would have a kind of mutation/ability that links to the mind, since she is such a physically strong fighter that she may rather rely on that than on her own mind, fearing that she cannot control that with discipline the same way she can train her body with it. What unites the two is their strong wish to protect the people in their care, in a world on the verge of collapse forcing two unexpected allies together (okay, I totally expected it, but they didn’t). Either way. Much love for this one. :)

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Aaaand the last one (not of all the ones I made but the ones I picked for Gwenspiration). I really, really, really adore this one because I was so happy with how the aesthetic turned out and how the colors all match. And I dig the premise. Like holy moly do I dig it deep. Jaime and Brienne both serving in military, but on different fronts, and almost accidentally ending up writing each other letters? I mean... the PINING. And Brienne having to decipher Jaime’s chickenscratch. Yeah no, but for real. I just love the idea so much. That they are both committed to the cause while also yearning for a home, for peaceful times, for sweet, sweet love. And them meeting up and acting like stupid teenagers, only for drama to keep hitting because. It’s eh me angsty Wacky.

Either way. I dig the premises of a lot of my moodboards (in fact... basically all of them or else I wouldn’t be making them, I guess). I spared you listing all of them, though I listed a whole damn lot already. Moodboards are an awesome means for me personally to visualize and (re-)imagine. And since quite a few people seem to continue to be onboard with them, I am all the happier to keep making them.

That’s all for today.

Much love! ♥♥♥

*flies away*

[quantifiableme]

Controlled

Jealous!Gendry and Oblivious!Arya as promised, plus some #PodtheRod to appease the masses!

***

“Ohhhhh ho ho ho, look at that!” slurred a very drunk Bronn. “Pod the Rod got himself a Lady!”

“Please refrain from giving my squire vulgar titles,” coldly commanded Brienne of Tarth. Gendry hadn’t noticed her there when he had looked out the window- a bit to focused on another sword-wielding Lady. “Once more, a squire cannot have a Lady. Not that Arya Stark would ever put herself in a position like that.”

“For that one she might,” responded Bronn. “Kid’s got another sword bigger than The Mountain’s. If you know what-”

“I believe we all know what you mean, Bronn.” Scolded Tyrion.

***

Gendry hit the molten steel into some formidable shape, letting his anger be the momentum for his swing. 

He could hear Arya practicing just outside the forge, which he usually found comforting, but today just made him more frustrated. However, while he tried to convince himself that it was her that caused his current tantrum, he was really mad at himself. 

The night before, Arya had come to the forge while the rest of Winterfell slept. Gendry had been putting the finishing touches on the sword she had asked for -- a project he worked on tirelessly since she brought him the design and left him breathless with her new found confidence. 

She had changed since the blacksmith saw her last. Obviously, they both did, but Arya in ways Gendry hadn’t expected. Gone was the young boy-girl who let her emotions drive every decision she made, who it took a simple tease to burst into a fit of rage bigger than the girl herself was. While he was in King’s Landing, it was the thought of her little pout and infuriating stubbornness that kept him going -- kept him alive. 

Her passion that he fell in love with was still there, but buried. No, not buried, controlled. She still a force to be reckoned with with her sword, only now it was tactful. Strategic. Instead of blowing up at Gendry’s M’lady comments, she smiled and gave a pitiful retort. Gendry was ashamed to admit that her simple calculated spin that night in the forge was enough to leave him without feeling in his legs.

He was terrified of her.

The night she came to receive her new weapon, she swaggered into the forge as if she owned it. Actually, reminded the asshole part of Gendry’s brain. _She did own it. _She had sat herself on his work table with the ease of a cat and held out her hand. Gendry laughed to disguise how loud his heart had been beating in that moment. When he handed in to her, she tugged it just slightly to make him stumble closer to her.

“Thank you,” she had said with a mischievously. 

His vision was drowning in her grey eyes, causing the rest of his surroundings to disappear until he lost all feeling in his body. In his inebriated state, Arya took the moment to lay her finishing blow on his poor soul. 

She gently placed her lips onto his, and suddenly Gendry only felt the warmth and sultry of her mouth, so different to the cold, dry air of the North. She moved in perfect rhythm against him, reminding him so much of the water-dances she practiced in the yard outside the forge everyday -- steady, circular movements that had no plan but to keep moving. It was strange for her to be so gentle, Gendry remembered. He never thought she could be gentle.

She moved to grab his shirt to close the distance from their bodies, but as soon as her fingertips grazed his chest, Gendry’s heart was shocked back to life. Immediately, he pushed away from the situation and stood staring at her.

“_A-arya!” _he had said, his voice higher than he intended. 

She giggled. It was open and happy, and it made him want to kiss her again. The only thing stopping him was the reality of the situation. 

_“You can’t do that.” _He forced his voice back down into its usual baritone. Firm. 

“_Well obviously I can, since I just did.” _She replied casually, the giggle still present in her tone. 

“_No, I mean you can’t do that,” _Even at the time, Gendry felt he was being too aggressive in the situation. “You’re a high-born, a lady-”

_“Gods, still on about that?”  _

“Yes! It’s important!”

“Why? Danerys will legitimize you after she wins the war anyway, and she said to treat you as such.”

_“It’s still different-” _

_“Why?” _

Gendry banged his hand against the worktable, having just then realized he had been moving closer toward her the whole time. It was this, he realized, that he missed most. His attraction to her was deeply rooted in their shared desire to endlessly frustrate the other. 

Arya hand’t even startled at the noise, despite it vibrating through the table she  had been sitting on. As he looked at her, he sighed to calm himself down. She was right that he would soon be Gendry Baratheon, and with Davvos’s help he would try to regain Storm’s End after the wars were over. But no title was ever going to make Gendry a high-born. He missed his chance at that life -- a life with tutors and trainers, of men who could teach him to fight and how to act. He was an orphaned bastard who had to step over rivers of shit every morning to make weapons for people who would drink themselves stupid in bars. 

And Arya deserved better. 

“_You gotta leave.” _He looked across the room, at anything but her. 

“You can’t be serious-”

_“Arya.” _His voice was stern. Stubborn and impassable. 

He felt her eyes on him, but he only concentrated on the spot of the floor in front of her. After a moment, she stepped off the high counter -- like a cat -- and left. 

Gendry had to work out his emotions on the singing steel until morning, and just when he thought he had control again, Arya showed up. The memory of last night was enough to reinginte the fire of Gendry’s anger, and he got back to work. 

Out of pure exhaustion, he finally had to take a break and walked to the window he usually used to stare at the girl as she practiced. In a quick glimpse, he was able to see that she was fighting the squire-kid that followed the tall woman around everywhere. Gendry sat on the floor just below the window and listened to the sounds of their steels hitting each other in their battle. 

At that moment, Ser Bronn and Lord Tyrion stumbled onto the floor on the opposite side old the wall. After reaching Winterfell, Brown had explained how Cersi sent him to kill the Lannister brothers. Ironically, his coming was evidence to the Northern Lords that Jamie was truly on their side, and once the Dragon Queen offered Bronn a good sum of money in exchange for not killing her Hand, he and Tyrion quickly made to reunite as soon as possible. Which for them, Gendry supposed, meant a lot of wine. 

“Ohhhhh ho ho ho, look at that!” slurred a very drunk Bronn. “Pod the Rod got himself a Lady!”

“Please refrain from giving my squire vulgar titles,” coldly commanded Brienne of Tarth. Gendry hadn’t noticed her there when he had looked out the window- a bit to focused on another sword-wielding Lady. “Once more, a squire cannot have a Lady. Not that Arya Stark would ever put herself in a position like that.”

“For that one she might,” responded Bronn. “Kid’s got another sword bigger than The Mountain’s. If you know what-”

“I believe we all know what you mean, Bronn.” Scolded Tyrion. The scorn lost it’s effect, however, when Tyrion burst into drinking giggles moments later. “Imagine how many cows would have to be killed to make the leather for that scabbard though!”

Both of the men laughed at their fairly terrible jokes.

“What are you talking about?” Brienne demanded. 

“Your ‘squire’ has a bit more to offer than you are giving him credit for!” said Bronn.

“Years ago, when Podrick was under my... education, I had gifted him with some prostitutes after he rescued me from some rather dangerous situations.” Explained Tyrion. 

“Best prostitutes in the land,” interrupted Bronn. “Not some tavern wenches or sloppy shit like that. Practiced. Professionals.”

“After the night, however, Podrick came to me the next day and gave me back the rather sizable amount of money I had given him for the services.”

“He didn’t do it?” asked Brienne.

“The girls wouldn’t take it!” said Tyrion. “Whores of King’s Landing, where a man would sell his son for a shilling, gave back the money I left them for Pod.”

“Boy’s got a magic cock,” giggled Bronn. 

Silence overlapped the conversation, the sound of the dueling partners amplified.

“Podrick?” questioned Brienne.

Mummering of agreements came from the drunken men followed by more S_ting_ and Swang of the swords. 

“Payne?” she clarified. 

“I didn’t believe it myself when he first came back,” replied Bronn. “But then all the girls in the whore-house kept asking me where he had gone all hours of the day, and I had to believe it was true.”

Gendry sat stunned on the other side of the conspiring trio. Fear settled into his gut, a fear far deeper than the one he had felt the night previous. He thought about the squire -- full-faced, dark hair. Gendry’s first though of him was that he was a wimpy high-born prick, but if it was true that he saved Lord Tyrion’s life and that he had... other qualities. And Arya was a woman grown now, and one that obviously was thinking about the other qualities her opposite gender had to offer, if last night had been any indication. And Gendry had just sent her to the man with a magic cock. 

He shot up at once. Screw being “good-enough” and high-born titles of crap. Gendry could live with Arya deserving better than him, because at the end of the day no one would ever truly deserve her. _Especially not this Pod-dick, _he thought to himself. What he could not live with, though, is her living with someone who didn't deserve her who wasn’t him. 

_“_M’lady!” he shouted across the yard. Walking toward the sparring couple, Gendry felt the stares of the drunken men and knight woman on his back, and he even heard a slurred “Oh, the plot thickens!”

Arya swept Podrick off his feet in a quick motion, and then stood to face Gendry. Her face was pure anger, and the sight made Gendry’s pulse quicken. 

“I told you not to call me- Gendry what are you doing?” The man in question had picked up the girl by the waist and turned to carry her away from the squire and his magic cock. Arya banged her small fists against his back and screamed at him to Put her down!. 

He carried her to the Godswood and placed her in front of the vibrantly colored tree. It had reminded him of her, in a sense. A spark of fire in this wintery hell-scape. The whole scene was gorgeous. 

She looked up at him, ready to speak something vulgar and hurtful, but before she got the chance, Gendry cradled her face in his hands and kissed her violently. He wished he could have been delicate like she was, but they were both in too high a state of anger to be anything but the emotional psychopaths they were. Arya kissed back with equal energy.

After a moment, the kissed slowed down to something softer. Still not delicate, but a controlled sort of chaos. When they finally broke apart, they each breathed heavily, but still close enough to not loose the intimacy. 

“What the hell is g-” 

“I’m sorry,” interrupted Gendry. She closed her mouth very quickly and stared at him. “I’m sorry for making you leave, and for being a fucking moron, just please don’t fuck the squire.”

“The squi- Podrick?!” Arya pulled away as she shouted, but kept her hands clasped around Gendry’s neck. 

“Please. Just promise me.” Gendry’s voice was drenched in desperation.

She looked about to protest, but then stopped herself and made the pouty expression he had dreamed of for last few years. 

“Fine, but on one condition,” she replied.

“What?”

“You have to kiss me like that again.”