#where brienne turns out to be Beautiful All Along

[bri-sonat]

Enjoy The Silence

Pairing: Brienne of Tarth x fem!knight!reader

Warnings: NSFW!! heavy smut, praise kink, degradation kink, corruption kink if you squint, fingering, oral sex

A/N: i would like it to be known that i wrote this mostly for fun, the idea popped in to my head and i couldn’t stop thinking about it. paragraphs were haunting me and i had to get it out and this is what it became. i will probably write whenever i get a an idea like this again, but will probably not commit myself to the role cause i’ll get overwhelmed. but all that aside, i have an idea for a very smutty follow up if people are interested. oh, and english isn’t my first language so just ignore grammar mistakes and such things. enjoy!

Cold midnight air ruthlessly bit at your cheeks as you made the final round of your patrol. Soothing silence broken every now and then by your armor clad body as you took slow, deliberate steps along the rampart.

You stopped, taking in the wail of the wind, closing your eyes allowing your other senses to become heightened. Taking a deep breath you could almost taste the winter, smell the recognizable aroma of water against steel, hear the slow footsteps of boots against snow.

Opening your eyes you glance down towards the courtyard, where the invading sound had been coming from. A small smile playing on your lips as you watch Brienne cross the open space, her steps confident and a disciplined expression grazing her features. She doesn’t seem to notice you watching her and she eventually walks out of view.

It had only been 12 months since you first met Ser Brienne of Tarth. You were intrigued by the tall blonde knight from the moment you saw her. She wasn’t easy to miss, towering over most people, just like she had the day you arrived.

———

Entering the Winterfell courtyard a year ago, you watched her from a far, taking in her being. Her otherwise soft features overwritten by a stoic look on her face.

Her eyes so blue, like the deepest ocean, observing the fighters she was training. Her cerulean eyes held a certain sadness, hidden by the way she carried herself. Back straight and a hand on the hilt of her sword, she paced, watched, making small adjustments to the men that you couldn’t hear from where you stood.

You were captivated by her, drawn in like a moth to a flame by her beauty and grace. She stepped in, offering herself as a sparring partner to those wanting to practice on her.

You watched as she took stance; blocking, parrying, striking with such elegance you could’ve sworn you were watching an ethereal being. Her feet moving on their own, swords clashing against each other as she took down man after man, a small smirk playing on her pale face as she panted.

You watched as she dismissed the men who walked away grunting, pissed after being defeated by a woman.

Walking up to her, she became taller for every step you took. Stopping behind her, you cleared your throat, grabbing the attention of the taller woman, causing her to turn around and look down at you with a neutral expression.

“Can I help you?”

The voice that exited her mouth was deep, coated in the most delicious accent you had ever heard. You stared up into her blue eyes, even more beautiful up close, accented by her porcelain skin. She cocked her eyebrows as she waited for your answer.

Giving her a small nod and introducing yourself, you watched as she reacted to your knight title, a very subtle smile on her face, disappearing as quick as it appeared. She repeated your name, loving the way it rolled on her tongue, dripping out of her mouth like honey. She gave a nod back.

“I was told to come here and speak to a Ser Brienne of Tarth about offering my services. I don’t suppose you know where I could find her?” Hand resting on the hilt of your sword by your hip, you took a look around the courtyard, it was empty. You moved your sight back to the taller woman, watching her in anticipation for her answer.

“I am Ser Brienne of Tarth. I had been told to expect someone, but I thought it would be a man considering the title. I apologize for the assumption, I hadn’t heard of another female knight.” She shifted her gaze from yours to glance behind you.

You had heard stories about Brienne of Tarth, but you’d never met her. The stories were a mix of praise and disdain, depending on who you asked.

The stories of praise spoke of her abilities as a fighter, her accomplishments. Defeating multiple strong fighters, leaving her known as one of Westeros’ strongest fighters, albeit underrated.

The other stories were not as forgiving. Talking about how she was a great beast of nature, a monster, ugly, not feminine enough. Nothing she ever did to her appearance was good enough, if she tried dressing more like a lady, she was made fun of. When she started following the warriors path, she was made fun of. She could never get away from the constant ridicule, didn’t matter if she tried to fit in, her lack of conventional attraction betrayed her.

The nickname “Brienne the Beauty” ghosted through your mind and you couldn’t understand how that would be used as derision, when what you saw before you clearly made the nickname literal. She was enchanting, the golden-hour sun lighting up her face in the most beautiful way.

“Good. Then I think we have matters to discuss, don’t we?” Smiling softly up at her you watched as the sun casted shadows across her features, “However, I believe I have a short stop to make first. Will you take me to your grace?” Your words brought her eyes back to yours and she matched your smile. It was magical witnessing such a sight, you had to stop yourself from physically swooning, mentally; you did not.

“Of course. Right this way, Ser.” She gestured with her hand as she slightly turned, allowing you to walk past her.

———

The months that followed were filled with training, standing beside Brienne as she acted as a master-at-arms, you offering to act as a sparring partner so she could observe. Both of you allowed yourselves a little healthy competition after dismissing the trainees, known to spar against each other on occasion. She was impressed by your skill, you with hers that you already knew she inhibited. It was a privilege to observe her so up close and personal, her swordsmanship alike nothing you had ever seen before. It was incredible, she was incredible.

The evenings were filled with laughter and stories as you drank and feasted together. Her telling stories of what it was like growing up on Tarth, her stories and travels, you telling stories of your adventures, accomplishments and childhood. Speaking happily about the freedom you had growing up in Dorne, being able to express yourself without judgement.

She had a lot of queries about your home, curious to learn as much as possible. It reminded you of a child the way she couldn’t keep to one question, often asking multiple in one breath. You found it endearing seeing her undeniable eagerness and excitement to learn of the life she could’ve lived. Answering to the best of your abilities, she couldn’t help the smile that would creep on to her face when you told her that women lay with women, without discrimination.

She spoke sadly of a ball her father held, but never went in to detail. Respectful of her boundaries and privacy, you didn’t pry. The more time you spent together, the more you felt yourself falling in love with her.

It was a wonderful feeling, love, but it ached, knowing that she probably did not love you back.

But she did. She too had found herself falling in love with you, much to her dismay. Insecurities and past heartbreak haunting her, plaguing her. The thought that you probably found her as disgusting and nauseating as everyone else, but were too respectful to say anything was on a constant repeat in her mind. Reminding her over and over again that she could not and did not deserve to be loved by someone as kind, compassionate, righteous and honorable like you.

Everyday over the months that passed, you spent time together. Meeting for breakfast in the morning, training during the day, splitting up to do some other mundane but necessary tasks, until you reconvened for dinner during the evening.

Laughs, stories and longing glances were exchanged, until you had to part ways to make your rounds. Ending the day in your chambers, by yourself, heart aching as it yearned for hers. This was all you knew, becoming routine after the first few weeks.

Then one night something happened. You and Brienne had gotten into a fight, a disagreement over something long since forgotten, but at the time seemed like the most important thing in the world.

Your voices loud against the night sky as you exchanged words out in the courtyard, excessively gesturing to get your point across, face red with wrath. Brienne had her arms crossed over her chest, face pulled together in a mix of incredulity and exasperation.

In an act of trying to one up each other, you kept taking footsteps closer and closer. You could feel the anger radiating off of Brienne, yet you couldn’t stop, you were so incredibly frustrated with her, you had to keep going. Letting yourself become consumed by anger, you were no longer in a state of mind to control your actions. She drove you crazy, in a plethora of ways.

It was when you placed a sharp finger to her tunic clad sternum that the both of you froze.

Thick, almost suffocating silence overtook the courtyard, only thing being heard was the low gust of wind, and panting breaths, coming from both you and Brienne. You stared at your finger placed firmly in the middle of her chest with wide eyes. This was the first time you had ever touched.

Your face turning red for a completely different reason this time, Brienne stared down at your finger, taking a hesitant step forward, allowing you to leave if needed, letting her arms drop to her side.

Your hand flattened out, finger replaced with the palm of your hand. Brienne’s heart was beating fast and hard underneath your palm and you almost waited for it to beat out of her chest. The quickened pace of her organ pumping blood beneath your hand was all you could feel as you became encompassed by her, her pleasant fragrance of sweat accumulated over the day was all you could smell as she stepped in to your space.

Taking another step forward you looked up from your hand to meet the taller blondes burning gaze, eyes softening. Your breath hitched at the sight of her, hair messy from running her hands through it in frustration. Blonde locks framed her face, her beautiful sapphire eyes filled with awe, glimmered in the moonlight.

She was waiting for the moment you would realize what was happening, the second your face would shift in to a face of detestation due to her proximity and run away. But the moment never came, you just kept looking up at her, breath heavy, your eyes glossy.

She gazed in to your eyes, tongue darting out to wet her lips. Her intense blue eyes flicking from yours, to your lips and back. She watched as you took another step closer, becoming flush with her body. You quivered at the sensation, her entire body radiating heat, your mind turning in to mush at the way her breath ghosted on your skin.

A slow and tentative hand came up to cup your jaw, a thumb caressing your cheek. You sighed and leaned in to her touch, stuttering breaths escaping from your mouth.

All your inhibitions and restrictions fell out the window, you needed her. Needed to feel her lips on yours, needed to know what she tasted like. You had dreamt about this for six months and you were so close to finally have it become reality. Her thumb shifted from your cheek to run it over your bottom lip, causing you to internally scream at the contact.

She loved the feeling of your lip under her thumb, it was so soft, so inviting, almost pulling her in. And oh so very kissable. Releasing a hum of fascination, she dragged her thumb down, pulling your bottom lip with it, slightly parting your mouth. You had to hold back a quiet moan at her gentleness, her sensuality. She was irresistible.

You just needed to take the chance, it was now or never. The second her thumb moved from your lip back to stroking your cheek you spoke, mouth moving faster than your thought process.

“Kiss me.”

Brienne gazed down at you, hand still on your face. She was shocked at your request, she had never kissed anyone before, less have someone ask her to do so. She always thought she would go her entire life without knowing what it felt like to be kissed. Without knowing the burning touch of another, having come to terms with the idea of living and dying alone a long time ago. Then along you came, looking at her in a way that burned her up from the inside, and she allowed herself to hope. Allowed herself to hope that you could somehow look past all the prejudice and love her for who she was. She had so much love to give, it was practically bursting at the seams.

And here you were, willing to receive all the love she had been wanting to shower you with for months. There were so many emotions swirling around inside her, but the most dominant one was fear, the fear of rejection that stayed with her, it followed her everywhere. She had to know if you were playing with her heart. Terrified of what your answer might be she had to ask. Had to know.

“Are you-“ she started. Wanting to break you out of the trance you both had ended up in. Still waiting for that one moment she had seen so many times before. The face she had come to know so well, filled with ridicule, revulsion, and utter disgust; always followed by a laugh, a scoff, or in the best case scenario, a clear demonstration of distance. Making it known that they found her so repulsive that they did not even want to be near her.

“By the Gods, would you just kiss me!” You couldn’t take another tantalizing second, each one spent longing for her, like you had done ever since you met.

She was taken aback by the sudden outrage, but seeing the look in your eyes made her smile, wide. Your eyes were filled with nothing but love for her, looking at her in a way she had never experienced before. The moment she had seen so many times would never come like she had expected it to. Only thing on your face was adoration, fondness, warmth, affection, and admiration. All directed at her.

There would be no rejection, no ridicule. You wanted her love, and she wanted yours. Oh, she wanted it so bad. She wanted to bask, bathe and relish in the warm feeling of being seen. Seen for who she was, past all the hurt, past her stature, past all the stupid stories. She felt pretty under your gaze, beautiful, even.

Leaning down, inching closer, you could feel her hot breath against your lips, her nose nuzzling up against yours. Closing your eyes, you waited for the moment you had pictured so many times before.

Her soft lips connecting to yours sent you in to a world of pure satisfaction, you both hummed in to the kiss, allowing yourselves to relax, taking in the other. The hand that had been dangling by your side was brought up to Brienne’s waist, holding on to her for dear life. Almost like you were expecting her to disappear in to thin air, or that you’d wake up in your bed, all of this just being a dream. Her lips moving against yours in a way you had never experienced before made it perfectly clear that this was indeed happening. No dream could ever be this realistic, her lip between yours as you kissed her with a fervor you never realized you had.

Her other hand on your hip, she held you up as your knees threatened to give out under you. The hand you had placed on her chest snaked up to land around her neck, pulling her impossibly closer to you.

Playing with the hair at the back of her head you slightly pulled, causing her to gasp in to the kiss, taking the opportunity to deepen it.

Tongues fighting for dominance, much reminding you of the sword fights you two had. Just like your sword fights, this one also seemed to end up in a tie, eventually yielding, letting your tongues work in harmony to drive out as much of the yearning and pining that was humanly possible. The ache in your hearts vanishing, as they finally found each other, beating in sync.

Breaking off the kiss to get some much needed air, you pulled away to take in the sight in front of you. Brienne’s face was red, lips swollen and her chest heaved, desperate for air. Breathing in each other you stayed in your position, one hand around her neck and one on her waist. Hers on your cheek and hip. You brought your head in to lean Brienne’s forehead against your own, her having to crouch down to make up for the height difference.

You smiled at her, she gave you the biggest grin you had ever seen on her beautiful face back. Her breathtakingly blue eyes filling with tears of joy as you enjoyed each others company. Breaking the now pleasant silence, you whispered to her and in to the night sky.

“What were we fighting about again?”

———

The six months that followed after this was heavenly. Heavy make-out sessions, wandering and curious hands, lingering touches and kisses left on warm skin. It was all new and exciting. Taking time to learn what buttons to press, where to kiss, where to touch. It was like laying out a new course on a map, exploring uncharted territory. You learned pretty fast to not leave marks where they could be seen, having been gawked at by the fighters you trained. After that you watched where Brienne’s armor and everyday clothes covered, her doing the same with yours. Everything beneath the dip of your throats were fair game.

Bruised collarbones and shoulders became a regular sight. Marks in all different stages of healing, coloring your skin with shades of yellow, red and purple. You often found yourself running your fingers over them as you undressed in the evenings, remembering her wet and warm mouth on your body. She had become so good at using her mouth, you were astounded at how quick she learned. It took some time for her to get past the initial embarrassment of how much she enjoyed the taste of your skin, but once she heard the appetizing noises you would release it didn’t take long for her to find the confidence to shamelessly and hungrily lick, suck and kiss wherever she could reach.

Staying clothed during your late night meetings, you made it a habit to slightly unlace your tunic, exposing your shoulders and collarbones to Brienne’s hot mouth. Her doing the same. The first time you had seen her bare broad shoulders and collarbones you had to stifle a mewl, wanting to taste her as soon as you saw them, and you did. Hearing the scrumptious sounds that left her mouth as yours traveled all over her upper body had you feral, animal instincts taking over; kissing, sucking and licking like your life depended on it.

About three months in to your arrangement you had sworn your loyalty to her, she had done the same. Offering your swords and kneeling, speaking your love out in to the universe. Swearing to the old Gods and the new, to always come back and stay by each other’s side. The way of the warrior known for being a path with gruesome and early deaths, you did not want to waste any time. Making it known that if either of you perished in battle, you died being loved. You also swore to protect each other, even though you were perfectly capable of physically doing it yourselves, you also applied it to other situations in life. Promising to protect each other’s honor and reputation, to stand up for the love you shared. This, you swore, to the old Gods and the new.

You and Brienne kept your day arrangement going, keeping your usual distance as to not draw suspicion. Only thing that was different was that before going to sleep in your own chambers by yourselves, you would silently stalk to hers, or she would come to yours, using the darkness of night as your cover. It was so exhilarating, the sneaking around. The feeling of being involved in a forbidden romance, like Romeo and Juliet, was dirty. It felt hot, and it turned you on, immensely.

Allowing yourselves a short time where you would be completely alone together, away from prying eyes. You would hold each other, kiss, or talk, but you had never laid.

It was a subject neither of you felt any need to rush in to, but as the make-out sessions grew hungrier, the more the heat between your legs grew, throbbed and begged for attention. Brienne’s large hands exploring everywhere except for where you needed them.

Which eventually ended up with you moaning her name in to the darkness as you touched yourself before going to sleep, imagining it was her fingers. It was a way to cope, to keep you from throwing yourself at her, a way to keep you sane as you yearned for her touch.

She had told you she was a maiden a month in to your relationship, and you told her in return that you would wait until she specifically told you she was ready, however long that would take. For her you’d wait an eternity if needed.

———

The past year had gone by in a flash, your life completely changed after meeting Brienne, in the best way possible. Standing overlooking the courtyard, you watched the midnight sky and it’s residing stars, being just as beautiful as the night when you two first kissed.

Your patrol finished, you made your way to your chambers, armor clanking as you moved swiftly through the courtyard, following the same path Brienne had taken minutes before.

Entering your room, you quickly rid yourself of your armor and sword, placing them on the armor stand by your bed. Not wanting to leave yourself entirely without protection, you strapped a tiny dagger to the waistline of your trousers.

Turning on your heel you left the room, making a direct line for Brienne’s to continue your midnight rendezvous.

You silently knocked on her door. Feet shuffling behind it were heard before Brienne opened, a smile on her face.

“Hi,” she swept over your figure with her eyes. Frowning at the dagger sitting on your hip, “what’s up with the dagger?”

You looked down at the weapon, smiled and looked back up at her. “Just for protection, in case something happens. What if I have to defend you?” you joked. Brienne breathed out a laugh and stepped aside, allowing you to enter.

She was in the process of removing her armor when you arrived, a crackling fire warming up the room. You sat down on the edge of her bed and watched as she removed piece after piece, back turned to you. You knew she preferred doing it herself, so you didn’t interfere.

“Did you have a nice patrol?” You hated small talk, but you were curious to know if she’d noticed you spectating her. She turned her head over her shoulder and looked at you where you sat.

“About the same as usual. Only thing worth noting was the feeling of being watched.” She smirked, she knew. Your face became flushed, causing Brienne to chuckle, she found it adoring.

“So you did notice.” It was phrased like a question, but said as a statement. Brienne finally removed her chest piece, leaving her in tunic and pants.

“Yes, hard to not notice when someone as attractive as you is watching. I have to be on my best behavior,” she turned, sauntering towards you.

“Are you not always on your best behavior?” You teased, not knowing where this was going, but you played along; liking this side of her.

“I try to be,” reaching you, she pulled you up from the bed by your hand and you stood, facing her. “I’ve been thinking.” Her mischievous face became serious, worrying you. You watched as she took a deep breath, looking in to your eyes.

“I’m ready. I am yours.” You stared at her, confusion painted across your face. It took you a minute until you realized what she meant. You smirked, eyes darkening, desire taking over. You grabbed a hold of her hips, turned her around, and started leading her towards the bed.

“I was wondering how long it would take,” the back of her knees hitting the edge of the bed signaled you to lightly push her chest, causing her to sit down. You settled your knees on either side of her broad thighs, straddling her, large hands coming up to grip your waist. “I’m starving.” A worried expression takes over her face.

“You haven’t eaten today?” she watched you, your libido-drunk face never changing. “No, you did. We ate together. Are you still hungry?” Her attentiveness and care for you warmed your heart.

“I’m not talking about that kind of hunger. I crave you, Brienne. I want to taste you.”

Blood rushed to her face once it clicked what you meant. Hands starting at her strong arms, slowly moving up towards her shoulders. She watched with bated breath the way your pupils dilated.

She wanted this as much as you did, having ignored the growing feeling of carnal desire for too long. She longed to feel you in her most sensitive and neglected places. As nimble fingers started working on the lace of the blondes tunic, a hand gently grabs your wrist, halting your movements. Your eyes, never having left hers, watched as she opened and closed her mouth, words not coming out.

“Brienne, you know we don’t have to do this, we can keep waiting if you’re not comfortable.” Your hands moved to hold her face, looking at her lovingly, a face of compassion taking over your features. She dropped her hand, placing it back on your waist.

“No, it’s not that,” she looked away, blushing. “I was hoping to give you pleasure, being the only one out of us who has felt it before. I can imagine you’re yearning for it.”

You grabbed her chin, causing her pretty eyes to meet your burning gaze, your face had changed back in to an expression of pure, unadulterated lust.

You smirked at her, “There’s no need to worry about that, I’ve been… dealing with it, on my own,” Brienne’s eyes widened and her teeth tugged on her bottom lip at the realization, images and sounds of you fucking yourself flooding her mind, making the taller knight release a whimper, “what I really want is to take care of you, baby. I want to hear all the noises that leave that pretty little mouth of yours. Will you let me take care of you, baby?” The blonde watched you, nodding faster than she meant to, aching for your touch. She could feel the heat pool between her legs, subconsciously clenching her thighs. You noticed.

“Eager, aren’t we?” skilled fingers moved back to the lace of Brienne’s tunic, making quick work of it. Your mouth catching hers, tongues dancing together in a ferocious fashion.

Almost ripping the tunic off of your lovers broad shoulders, your hands were quick in finding the mounds of flesh, kneading them, pinching nipples, drawing out the most ungodly sounds from the knight under you. You swallowed her groans as you groped, not getting enough of the way her bare skin felt under your fingertips. You pulled away from the kiss, wanting to see the mess you’ve made of the otherwise calm and collected warrior.

You removed your hands from her breasts to dismiss the tunic from her upper body, throwing it on the floor, exposing her to you. You watched as her chest heaved, drawing in breath after breath. Her face was flushed, eyes watching you, lips wet and swollen, she was so incredibly beautiful, you dared think perfect.

“That’s right. Just keep watching me with those pretty eyes of yours.” You cooed as you stroked her face in an act of affection. She looked up at you in a way that drove you absolutely crazy, a look of innocence corrupted with desire.

You moved your head down, taking one of her nipples in to your mouth. Tongue swirling as she throws her head back, your name falling off her lips. It made you shudder, you wanted to hear it again, and again, and again.

Gently biting down and soothing the sting with your tongue, Brienne jumped, a surprised gasp mixed with a moan exiting her mouth. You kept biting and sucking, leaving marks for her to see in the morning when she got dressed, or whenever she was alone. Leaving them as a reminder that she was yours. They would potentially serve as a problem for when she bathes, but you’d deal with that whenever the predicament arrives.

Your hand replacing your mouth, you gave her other nipple the same attention you gave the first. Drawing out more unholy noises from her, noises that a knight of the Seven Kingdoms shouldn’t make.

You had wondered what she would sound like when she came, hell, you had dreamed of it. You could hardly wait to taste and feel her around your fingers, but you needed to be patient, make it as pleasurable for her as possible. You needed her first time to be perfect, your line of work didn’t really come with a life expectancy, so you wanted her to remember every touch, every kiss.

Brienne’s hands moved to remove the dagger hilt from your pants, throwing it on her tunic, before moving up to your lace. Desperation to touch your bare skin acting as fuel made her quick in unlacing the piece of cloth, taking it off, and throwing it on the already growing pile of clothes on the floor. She breathed out your name, her voice an octave lower than usual, husky and coated with lechery. It made a shiver run down your exposed back.

You removed your mouth from Brienne’s breast as you lifted your head and you met her eyes. She watched you with such awe, you couldn’t wait any longer. You needed her.

One hand resting on her bare shoulder, you moved your other hand downwards, slowly dragging your fingers over her abdomen, enjoying the way she trembled, her skin prickling under your touch. Stopping at the hem of her trousers you spoke, “I’ve been dying to know how you’ll feel around my fingers as you cum, screaming my name. I guess we’re about to find out, hmm?” Your tone mockingly condescending. Brienne couldn’t muster any words, her throat dry as she felt your fingertips dancing so close to where she craved you.

The sound of Brienne’s pants unbuckling mixed with her eager breaths, along with the crackling of the firewood filled the room.

Bringing your hand up to Brienne’s mouth, you encouraged her to open it. She took your finger in her mouth, sucking, getting it ready for her. Oh, she was so happy and willing to do whatever you wanted, so ready to please. So good.

Moving down again, dipping a hand under the hem of her pants and undergarments, you dragged a finger over her slick heat, growling at the sensation of it against your finger.

Brienne shoved her face in to your shoulder to stifle the moan that came out. “No, don’t do that. I want to hear you,” she lifted her head to meet your gaze as your finger continued to explore her wet folds, moving up to rub gentle circles on her sensitive clit, “Well done, baby. You’re so responsive.” You had her wrapped around your finger, she was yours, and you hers. It was a glorious feeling to have such a dominant woman moaning for you in this way like some common whore.

“Oh, God. It feels so good. Please, make me cum, I wanna feel you, please.” She was a moaning mess underneath you, begging you, and you basked in the noises she made.

“Well, since you asked so nicely. Who am I to deny my good girl the pleasure she deserves?” Brienne let out a noise at the pet name. She loved getting praised by you. She whined as you moved off of her, but stopped complaining as she watched you get on your knees in between her thighs.

She wantonly spread her legs, lifting her hips up so you could pull off her trousers, her undergarments following. You audibly moaned as Brienne’s wet cunt was exposed in front of you.

Enticed by the strong aroma of the blondes arousal you didn’t waste a second, licking up her slit, you stopped at her clit and circled it with your tongue. You savored the flavor of her, tasting just like you had imagined her to, if not better. “You taste so fucking good,” you murmured against her clit, causing a vibrating sensation.

Brienne let out a guttural moan, almost a scream, at the sensation of your mouth on her clit. She bucked her hips towards your mouth and your hands grabbed hold of them, keeping her still. You mindlessly put one of her legs over your shoulder, giving yourself more access to her wet center.

She breathed out your name, it sounded so sinful on her lips, obscenities falling from her mouth in the most filthy way. It spurred you on.

“More, please.” She was so good, saying please. When she asked you so nicely, how could you possibly resist?

Your finger that had been running through her folds earlier was used to tease the blondes entrance. You looked up at her, growing wetter at the sight.

She was intensely watching you, waiting to be brought to new-found heights of pleasure she had never traversed before. She could almost cum just by the sight of you between her legs, eating her out so ravenously.

“You feel so good, Ser.” Oh, the the way your title fell off her lips in such a sinful way almost felt illegal. You wanted to hear it again.

One of Brienne’s hands flew down to grab on to your head, the other one kneading her breast.

“Call me that again.” You were insatiably devouring the taller woman’s heat, all your senses filled with her. You wouldn’t want to have it any other way.

You slowly pushed in one finger, loving the feeling of her walls clenching around your digit. You worked it in, and out. Curving it, hitting that sweet spot inside of Brienne that made her scream Ser together with your name in pleasure. You smirked against her as the title left her mouth, she was so good at following directions. You had to let her know.

“Such a good little slut, following my requests without a second thought.” She reacted to your new name for her by wailing out a moan, a mix of praise and degradation. It drove her insane.

You kept working her, holding eye-contact as you added another finger once you felt she was ready. Lifting your head to take in her entirety, wanting to see her face and body react.

“You take me so well. I wonder what everyone would think if they saw you now. The Brienne of Tarth, screaming and moaning, like some common whore,” she was growing feral at the dirty words you were spewing as you were fucking her, “perhaps they would even be interested to know how your dominance is mostly for show. You’re really just a submissive slut, begging to be dominated and fucked, just,” you thrusted your fingers in hard, “like,” leaving your fingers inside of her, you curved them, hitting the spongy spot inside of her over and over, thumb brushing over her swollen clit, “this. Isn’t that right, pet?” She was screaming at this point, not caring if anyone heard her, too busy chasing that high almost in her grasp. So close she could taste it. “They probably wouldn’t be too happy to know about you tainting the Gods name either. Blasphemy. Completely unacceptable for a knight. Don’t you know that, Brienne?” You talked down to her, teasingly scolding her, driving her absolute mad with lust, it clouded her mind.

Your mouth back on her clit made her arch her back, your nails digging in to the skin on her hip, sure to leave bruises. Which could also arise as a potential issue for communal baths, but once again, you’d deal with it whenever confronted.

Her moans were quickening in pace, breaths becoming ragged. Her walls were clenching around your digits, she absolutely loved having you inside, stretching her out, sucking and licking her clit. The sounds inside her room were wicked; her loud and whiny moans, your short nosy breaths as you thrusted your fingers in and out, and the ungodly sucking sounds coming from in between Brienne’s long legs.

It was too much for her. With a final brush against the spot inside her and a gentle teeth graze, you watched as Brienne threw her head back and froze, body beginning to convulse as pleasure ripped through her. With a scream of your name she grabbed and pulled at your hair. You looked up at her, fingers still working inside of her, already bringing her to another orgasm.

She looked so perfect reaching her zenith, she was glowing, her facial features contorted in pure bliss as she chased the second orgasm you were happy to provide.

It didn’t take long for her to cum on your fingers and in your mouth again. Slowing down the pace, you helped her ride her orgasm, drawing out every ripple of pleasure she could handle, before she eventually whined from overstimulation. Retracting your fingers, you happily cleaned up whatever escaped her fluttering hole.

She laid panting on the bed as you climbed up towards the blonde, hovering over her. You allowed her to taste herself on your lips before pulling away. She watched as your chin glistened with her juices in the faint glow of the fire, making her groan.

You wiped your chin with the back of your hand before bringing the fingers you used to fuck her with up to her lips. She greedily took them in her mouth, happy to serve. You smiled at her, she looked so good like this, fucked out of her mind, chest rising up and down, trying to draw in all the air she possibly could, your fingers in her mouth.

The throbbing between your legs had only grown, it yelled for attention. Tonight was about Brienne, you didn’t care how uncomfortable it got, you had brought your lover to the height of pleasure and that is what you set out to do. It was worth it, she was worth everything.

You removed your fingers from her mouth before helping Brienne adjust her position so she could lay down at the head of the bed under the covers. You quickly removed the rest of your clothes and moved to join her, her eyes closed from exhaustion.

She quickly took you in to her arms and snuggled her head in to your shoulder, inhaling your scent. You felt a vibration as she hummed in content.

You grabbed one of the hands wrapped around your waist and brought it up to your lips to kiss her knuckles. Hoping it would send her the message you wanted her to receive, not wanting to break the silence. Words were unnecessary, you loved her.

She placed a soft kiss on your neck, and shoulder as she melted around you. She knew, and she loved you, too.

Silence crept in as you took in the feeling of flesh against flesh, your knight holding you in her strong arms. You felt so safe with her, so protected. As long as she was by your side you would fight to come back to her, just like you had sworn. She gave you strength, and a feeling like you could do anything. You were so grateful for her, grateful for her endless love. Thankful towards the Gods for putting you in each other’s path, knowing you could just as well never have met.

The thought of never meeting broke your heart, not knowing how you could exist without her now that she was in your life. Considering the chain of events that brought you to Winterfell in the first place, you realized you were selfish. People had lost so much, so many loved ones.

Despite that, you couldn’t stop smiling. In spite of everything that had happened, you were happy. Happy being where you were, happy with who you were there with, and happy with the life you had started building, as an individual, but also together with your knight in shining armor.

You wanted to bring Brienne to Dorne, so she could see where you grew up, and fall in love with it, too.

You probably wouldn’t settle down there, she was needed here. But, the look on her face when you had told stories of Dorne was like the sun, her smile so bright, you wanted her to see it for herself. Show her around, take her to your favorite places, wanting to bring her to meet your parents. You knew they would love her, just as much as you did.

All you ever wanted, all you ever needed was here. Nothing to be heard but fire crackling and Brienne’s soft snores in your ear, as you let them relax you, finally being exactly where you were meant to be, now and forever.

Closing your eyes, you allowed yourself to drift off to sleep, at last having her beside you instead of the cold hand of loneliness you had grown so used to.

—————

Follow-up: Life Eternal

tags for the homies:

@na-shoba @pastanest

#gwendoline christie #brienne of tarth #brienne x reader #brienne of tarth x reader #gwendoline christie x reader #Spotify

[ilynpilled]

I have a lot of thoughts about Renly in particular and what he represents for different characters or in the grander narrative. I think he plays an interesting role for characters that he is relevant to. With Stannis for example we have the whole stoicism vs epicureanism conversation etc. But I also love to look at Renly from the lens that Brienne provides. He is, after all, an idea that she fell in love with. Emphasis on falling in love with the idea of him rather than him as an individual. So, through this lens, Renly becomes more of a concept than a character. And ofc we have the chivalric romance layer. Brienne, early on, romantic that she is, is in love with “summer” or naive idealism. Renly captures everything that is in the songs and stories she admires. His character, on the surface, IS that idealistic world that a dreamer desires. 

"Because it will not last," Catelyn answered, sadly. "Because they are the knights of summer, and winter is coming."

"Lady Catelyn, you are wrong." Brienne regarded her with eyes as blue as her armor. "Winter will never come for the likes of us. Should we die in battle, they will surely sing of us, and it's always summer in the songs. In the songs all knights are gallant, all maids are beautiful, and the sun is always shining."

Summer ends and Renly dies because reality is more complicated. So when Jaime comes in, he also serves as a deconstruction of that ideal that Renly represented for Brienne, because he, especially in his youth, is also very much tied to this idea of naive idealism. Jaime, at the point of meeting Brienne, represents a more cynical confrontation with the horrors of reality. He is the disillusioned cynic who pisses all over songs and the fabricated reality they tell, while embodying everything Brienne seems to loathe.  The confrontation with those horrors is what created a “beast” out of Jaime.

They saw nothing living but a few feral dogs that went slinking away at the sound of their approach. The pool from which the town took its name, where legend said that Florian the Fool had first glimpsed Jonquil bathing with her sisters, was so choked with rotting corpses that the water had turned into a murky grey-green soup.

Jaime took one look and burst into song. "Six maids there were in a spring-fed pool . . ."

"What are you doing?" Brienne demanded. 

“Singing. ‘Six Maids in a Pool,’ I’m sure you’ve heard it. And shy little maids they were, too. Rather like you. Though somewhat prettier, I’ll warrant.”  

“Be quiet,” the wench said, with a look that suggested she would love to leave him floating in the pool among the corpses.

Jaime is a gateway to a grim reality following the death of her old love, and in a way her old ideology, that recontextualizes the songs and this ideal world in them that does not seem to actually exist. But in an attempt to pull her and the reader into that same cynical world view, all three of us land on an interesting conclusion instead. Same idea as: “Can a man still be brave if he's afraid?” “That is the only time a man can be brave.” It is light existing along with darkness. A just knight can exist in an unjust world, and that is what makes them truly just. If everything fit the ideal like in the songs, true knights would not exist. True humanity exists within this dichotomy. It is not always summer. True heroism lies in the attempt of doing good even in a world that often does not reward it. Same idea as that one post circulating around recently about ASOIAF not being about nihilism, but rather the idea of “earned romanticism.” It is not cynical, it is the opposite. This is why, after Renly, Brienne gradually falls for an individual she actually comes to know, just as she comes to know the real world of knighthood. In AFfC, he starts to replace Renly in her thoughts and dreams. Jaime is not just a false ideal for her this time, but a more holistic representation of reality, with all of its complexity, beauty, flaws, and contradictions, and falling in love with that is more poignant.

#brienne of tarth #jaime lannister #jaime x brienne #valyrianscrolls

[fleetingvow]

The nonexistent veins of this blog runs purely on angst. If you’ve come looking for written works of that category, please feel free to name the fics that have piqued your interest! A fair warning that the author’s first language is not English therefore perfection is not guaranteed, but that’s the beauty of it, is it not? Angst is an art of imperfection meeting a scale of perfection, or otherwise — if that makes sense.

Be reminded that this author writes under a nome de plume, which means all personal information are meant to be anonymous and not meant to be disclosed to the audience. This detail is relevant to those who wish to send an “ask” regarding the writer.

This blog’s works include gender neutral and female insert reader fics written about: Wednesday Addams, Evelyn Deavor, Anthony Lockwood, Henry Creel, Brienne of Tarth, Robin Buckley, Kang Sae-Byeok, and ( formerly and not anymore ) Camilo Madrigal.

Wednesday ‘ Wednesday Addams

BITTER SOLITUDE

Wednesday has always loved being alone. She enjoyed the company of solitude and the opportunity for something haunted in the eerie silence, but somehow your presence was missing. Did she do something wrong? ( Angst, Female Reader Insert. )

DEAD OF NIGHT

In which you and Wednesday open up to each other as comfort after you woke up from a nightmare, replaying the moments in the forest when the hyde attacked you not so long ago. ( Slight Angst, Fluff, Comfort, Female Reader Insert. )

DEATH BY A THOUSAND CUTS — I and II

wednesday addams never cried for anyone, not until she held you fighting for your life, desperately trying to stay alive to return the whispered confession. ( heavy angst. character death. female reader insert. )

WISH I NEVER MET YOU

a massive fight — you and wednesday never had that before, not until now that the walls almost crumbled down from the shouts being passed on back and forth. it could have worked, but then came the statement that ended it all for good. ( in progress. heavy angst. female reader insert. )

PRIORITIES

ever since wednesday got tangled with the monster mystery, her priorities seemed to turn into shambles as she brushed off your existence to get to the leads of her case, even if it meant kissing other people to do so. ( in progress. angst, cheating (?) toxic wednesday, toxic reader. )

Encanto ‘ Camilo Madrigal

JUST ANOTHER BOY

You were the new kid in Encanto and your family already tried to help building up the community by coming up with an idea of a school for the children in the small town. Whilst trying your best to survive education, you met a rather weird and awkward boy from the very famous family; The Madrigals. It was strange how he was outgoing and easily social to the others but you. Nevertheless, that's what made him interesting. Then, he just got weirder. ( Fluff. Gender-Neutral Reader Insert. )

FALLEN DEBRIS

After the disastrous dinner where Mariano and Isabella were supposed to come out engaged, you and Camilo had an extremely heated argument about Bruno after defending him causing your relationship to deteriorate completely. You were there when Mirabel and Abuela fought causing the downfall of Casita — you along with it. And when Camilo found your unresponsive figure underneath the piles and rubbles of the fallen shelter's debris, well . . . ( Heavy Angst. Gender-Neutral Reader Insert. )

FLEETING PROMISE

You were anything but mortal, and when you met a strange young boy, the light you provided only became brighter. But see, the thing is, you were strictly prohibited to be involved with any human interactions. So, when something found out that you talked to Camilo not just once but every night — much worse, felt things for him, you had to deal with the consequences. Before you disappeared, he had made a promise; a promise to let his heart reside in you forever until death do you part. But when you came back a decade later, there was nothing else you could do after you witnessed a purely uttered promise become a fleeting belief you clung onto for faith that even someone like you ever deserved mortal feelings such as love. ( In Progress. Heavy Angst. Gender-Neutral Reader Insert. )

Stranger Things ‘ Peter Ballard

AFFECTIONATE DISDAIN

Peter didn’t like the way you stood as if you owned the world. It was meant to be his. Not you. He hated your eyes all the way down to the tip of your toes, but as he had no choice but to put up with getting stuck with you, how was it that the way the light reflected on your angle changed? You were brighter than the daylight shine, and he was disgustingly allured by it. But no, you weren’t going to make him crumble. ( In Progress. Fluff. Enemies to lovers. Partial slow-burn. Gender-Neutral Reader Insert. )

ALLURE

Who knew that you could meet your strange neighbour again? Only this time, he wasn’t so quiet nor friendly. He was older, more dangerous — and just as you were about to kill him as a mission, your wants got in the way. Both of you couldn’t resist. Maybe that’s just how alluring you were. ( Romance. Angst? SLIGHT NSFW. Gender-Neutral reader insert. )

THAT WAY

You were once prepared to throw your life away just for him to look at you the way he did another. It took him years to realise. It took him years to feel what it was that you couldn’t feel twice. He knew it was too late, but he had to tell you somehow, even without talking. ( Angst. Gender-Neutral reader insert. )

GHOSTING PRESENCE ' Robin Buckley x Reader

You both had a massive fight, and the fact that you moved in together made it more difficult to handle. For the rest of the day, no one acknowledged anyone. The space between the walls were silent, and as you went to bed facing the opposite sides, she just knew it had to end. ( In Progress. Angst. Female Reader Insert. )

Squid Game ‘ Kang Sae-Byeok

MIRROR SHARDS

You’ll never forget the metallic taste of your lips joined into one as she choked back on her groans with your fingers pulling the large shard of glass from her side. ( Drafted. Slightly explicit. Fluff, Angst. Female reader insert. )

Lockwood & Co. ‘ Anthony Lockwood

DEAD WEIGHT

The reader’s skills got rusty and with anthony breathing down her neck all the time, well, things that were better off unsaid were spoken. that’s when four became three. ( Angst. Female Reader Insert. )

GHOST OF THE PAST

in which anthony recalls the tragedy of the only person who stirred his blood and thoughts. the girl who stayed young forever. ( heavy angst with a character’s death, specifically the reader’s. unproofread. )

#masterlist #camilo madrigal x reader #001 x reader #peter ballard x reader #peter ballard angst #camilo madrigal angst #sae byeok x reader #kang sae byeok x reader #encanto #henry stranger things #001 #001 stranger things #kang sae byeok x y/n #robin buckley x reader #wednesday imagine #wednesday #wednesday adams x reader #wednesday addams x reader #anthony lockwood x reader #anthony lockwood #wednesday masterlist #lockwood and co masterlist #stranger things masterlist #evelyn deavor #evelyn deavor x reader

[agentrouka-blog]

What would be your self-indulgent ending to ASOIAF? Or, if that's too much, just Sansa. Where do you want her story to go, and how is it getting there? Who are her friends and allies she makes along the way? Where does she travel on her journey? etc.

Hi anon!

I don't actually have too many thoughts on Sansa's ending that I would consider self-indulgent. Most of what I picture are things that I simply expect the plot to be. Queenship in the North simply makes sense. I can never tire of emphasizing that I was converted to Jonsa by the pure and simple logic of it. And the myriad hints in the text foreshadowing it. This is not wishful thinking on my part but a concrete expectation based on what I think is the most probable from GRRM's end.

Now, what self-indulgent thing would I adore about her journey there? What am I not certain about but would love?

(A lot of random things, it turns out.)

Sansa having shenanigans with the mountain clans. Just, after drama in the Vale, they help her travel, and she loathes the discomfort of the wilderness, she has inner snark even while appreciating the natural beauty around her. She perseveres in spite of neither liking nor being good at it. She learns about how their culture with the same polite curiosity she had for Ellaria Sand. And she finally forms genuine relationships with others once she is removed from the pressure of having to perform to captors or being unable to trust anyone. I would love to just watch Sansa in the process of finding her feet in a strange environment on her own terms.

I also want to see her feel safe enough with someone to just be herself. And who appreciates her in turn. Jeyne Poole and Sansa sneaking into the kitchens together to grab a secret snack and just talk and cry and comfort each other would be splendid. A sad but warm mirror to their strawberry tart escapades in KL.

I want GRRM to show us Sansa singing again. And I want him to finally make good on her talent with needlework. We've been told but we have not been shown, and since Arya's needlework is thematically important, Sansa's also has to be. And since that discrepancy is voiced in the text in the context of Jon Snow... well... some kind of garment with the Stark sigil for Jon would just make sense. With "exquisite" stitches. I want needlework metaphors that emphasize the contrast to the sword, the process of connecting and constructing.

I want big hugs, especially with Arya, who needs hugs and acceptance from Sansa, as well. I want every Starkling who ever uttered that Sansa's interest in songs and romance is "stupid" to utter something admiring about her intelligence or her soft skills. I want her to have some kind of paternal relationship that values her strengths, without an abusive or neglectful element in it (Bronze Yohn?), and I want her to have the ability to make peace with her relationship with Ned, probably in the context of someone else who has similar issues with him (Jon), and I want her to reflect on Lady and her connection to her without it being framed as inferior to full-fledged warging.

I want Sansa to get drunk and dance. Elegant courtly dancing and then just wild, jumpy, sweaty circle dances where everyone's on the verge of stumbling over each other's feet and giggling. Party all night, Sansa, you’ve earned it.

I want Brienne and Sansa to meet and Sansa to practically implode with the inner validation: A True Knight, and have her say all kinds of admiring things to Brienne who will very bravely try not to cry at Being Perceived by someone who loves every single thing she stands for.

I want Sansa in the snow again. I want her to look at Winterfell, be davastated and then straighten her spine and remember her snow castle.

I want Sansa and Ghost to form a deep bond. Essentially, her white-cloaked queensguard when Jon is in the South.

I want Sansa and Rickon to see each other again, I want him to be hugged by someone who reminds him of his mother, and for Sansa to develop a nervous twitch at having a little wildling on her hands even more temperamental than Sweetrobin.

Just.. lots of stuff! That centers around Sansa finally being free and being allowed to shine. Or form real connections, even when they are hard. Or just genuinely be annoyed at something without it being a delicate balancing act. 

#sansa stark #jonsa #i love her your honor

[wordybee]

I don’t think I can fully articulate where this is coming from

but it is very important to me that Brienne of Tarth is no-doubt-about-it, capital-U Ugly

AND it is very important to me that she wants a stereotypical, fairytale romance

AND it is very important to me that she wouldn’t know what to do if she ever got that stereotypical, fairytale romance, because she’s so used to wanting what society says she can’t have that she’s convinced herself she doesn’t want it

AND it is very important to me that she gets what she wants anyway.

#a song of ice and fire #asoiaf #brienne of tarth #jaime x brienne #because yes I think the root of this #is me stumbling upon one too many braime fics #where brienne turns out to be Beautiful All Along #or Secretly Super Hot #(which is different from the former #because Secretly Super Hot implies #all sorts of stuff about Brienne being good in bed #and having lots of one-night-stands in modern AUs #which... see point 3) #god knows I love the braime fic writers #but... there is a core element to brienne #which people seem to want to shy away from #and i wish they wouldn't. #to boldly queue

[jackoshadows]

Let’s be clear here. Sansa did not lie in front of everyone and side with Joffrey over her own sister because it was protocol or to save Arya or because she was afraid of the Lannisters. She did it because she loved her beautiful prince Joffrey and thought that he was right and she wanted to marry him and become queen and do shit like this:

"Go ahead, call me all the names you want," Sansa said airily. "You won't dare when I'm married to Joffrey. You'll have to bow to me and call me Your Grace. "

After Joffrey sadistically tortures Mycah and attacks her little sister Arya with a sword:

After they had gone, Sansa went to Prince Joffrey. His eyes were closed in pain, his breath ragged. Sansa knelt beside him. “Joffrey,” she sobbed. “Oh, look what they did, look what they did. My poor prince. Don’t be afraid. I’ll ride to the holdfast and bring help for you.” Tenderly she reached out and brushed back his soft blond hair.

Just sisters being sisters, am I right? Yeah, my sister would also have more compassion for the guy who attacked me with a knife! That’s really how siblings are with each other!

Even later, she still victim blames Mycah for what happened when it’s just Arya and Sansa in the room:

“It’s not the same,” Sansa said. “The Hound is Joffrey’s sworn shield. Your butcher’s boy attacked the prince. ”

Much later, when Sansa is now the target of Joffrey’s abuse, she realizes that what Arya did was right:

He’d owned a sword named Lion’s Tooth once, Sansa remembered.  Arya had taken it from him and thrown it in a river.  I hope Stannis does the same with this one. 

AGoT Sansa was a vain, self-centered, spoiled, snobby, classist bully who didn’t give a damn that another child was being tortured or that Joffrey attacked her sister with a sword, or that her 9 year old little sister was alone in the woods for several days and being hunted down by Lannister men. It’s more important that one’s hair is shiny and brushed when appearing before everyone to lie about what happened!

Joffrey’s lie - that Arya and Nymeria attacked him without any provocation - only stands because Sansa refused to support her sister’s side of the story. Joffrey knows that what he did to Mycah is wrong and that’s why he changes the story and lies.  Noble children mingle and play with the small folk all the time.

Put any character in Arya’s spot - Brienne of Tarth, Jon Snow, Robb Stark, Bran Stark, Daenerys Targaryen, Catelyn Stark, Tyrion Lannister, Ned Stark, Renly Baratheon, Barristan Selmy - and they would have all done the same thing that Arya did and protected Mycah from Joffrey’s sadism.  Brienne of Tarth would have applauded the fuck out of Arya for what she did - and Brienne is exactly the kind of knight that Sansa claims to love in her songs.

What’s the point of Sansa loving all these songs of chivalry and knightly valor when she can’t tell right from wrong and recognize that in this case it was Arya who was the brave knight standing up to a bully. Just like her aunt Lyanna did before her and stood up for Howland Reed against a bunch of bullies. Oh, but the parallels are really between Sansa and Lyanna, right? Sansa and Lyanna -  they both cry for songs aww ❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️! But it looks like only one of them really understood the themes of these songs.

Every person in that room knew that Arya was right and it was Joffrey who provoked the attack. But the one witness to the entire thing lies and says she does not remember and turns it into a he said, she said scenario that allows for Cersei to demand punishment in the form of a dead wolf and a weak-willed Robert to give in and order Ned to do it. The loss of the direwolf here is symbolic because Sansa chooses the Lannisters/future family over the Starks/current family.

Does anyone think that Catelyn Tully - Family, duty, honor - the embodiment of family loyalty, would have been okay with Sansa siding with Joffrey against Arya?

It should have been Catelyn in that scenario and not Ned.  Ned was wrong to not confront Sansa about her lying. And no, he does not explain to Arya why Sansa lied - because Sansa lied for a selfish, petty reason. He wants Arya and Sansa to stop fighting each other and puts the onus for all that on Arya. What he should have done was give Sansa a similar talk and explain why what she did was wrong and that she too had to put in the effort to get along with her little sister.

‘The lone wolf dies but the pack survives’ should have been something that Ned told Sansa since it is literally her wolf that dies. But Arya is GRRM’s central character and hence gets the thematic line and little talk from Ned about unity being more important than division and strife. 

So no, Arya is not responsible for Lady’s death and Nymeria is not going to be Sansa’s direwolf as recompense. 

As for Mycah - Unlike her sister and her fans, Arya rightly places the blame for that where it belongs.

Arya screwed up her face in a scowl. “Jaime Lannister murdered Jory and Heward and Wyl, and the Hound murdered Mycah. Somebody should have beheaded them.”

#Sansa Stark #Arya Stark #Joffrey Baratheon #Mycah #Ned Stark #GRRM #The incident at the trident #Had enough of this both girls were innocent but really it's Arya to blame bs #Only one of them lied about something important

[jeynearrynofthevale]

Sansa Stark is a lesbian and here’s why:

So, in honor of sapphicsansafest, I’m making a meta master post about why I believe Sansa is a lesbian. This will include a few quotes and I’m going to separate it into a few sections.

Sansa’s descriptions of other women:

“The queen was drinking heavily, but the wine only seemed to make her more beautiful; her cheeks were flushed, and her eyes had a bright, feverish heat to them as she looked down over the hall. Eyes of wildfire, Sansa thought.”

Even when Sansa hates Cersei, her descriptions of her are always focused around her beauty. The way she describes her eyes and cheeks is also similar to the way the men that are attracted to Cersei describe her.

“Twenty mules awaited them within the waycastle, along with two mule-walkers and the Lady Myranda Royce. Lord Nestor’s daughter proved to be a short, fleshy woman, of an age with Mya Stone, but where Mya was slim and sinewy, Myranda was soft-bodied and sweet-smelling, broad of hip, thick of waist, and extremely buxom. Her thick chestnut curls framed round red cheeks, a small mouth, and a pair of lively brown eyes.”

Similarly, her description of Myranda is very focused around her looks and specific details like her being “sweet smelling” and “extremely buxom” seem to point towards Sansa being attracted to Margaery. Once again Sansa’s descriptions of women mimic the way straight men describe them. Sansa’s interactions with Myranda are something I'll comment on later.

“Sansa had never been this close to the Dornishwoman before. She is not truly beautiful, she thought, but something about her draws the eye.”

Her description of Ellaria is also interesting as it helps show that the way Sansa thinks about women isn’t solely an aesthetic appreciation. She also enjoys the way unconventionally attractive women look.

“Slim and sinewy, Mya looked as tough as the old riding leathers she wore beneath her silvery ringmail shirt. Her hair was black as a raven's wing, so short and shaggy that Alayne suspected that she cut it with a dagger. Mya's eyes were her best feature, big and blue. She could be pretty, if she would dress up like a girl. Alayne found herself wondering whether Ser Lothor liked her best in her iron and leather, or dreamed of her gowned in lace and silk.”

This might be the best example of Sansa’s attraction to women. She once again thinks about the beauty of a woman who isn’t conventionally attractive and she even comments on her eyes. She then contextualizes her attraction by convincing herself that she’s thinking from a man’s perspective. In reality though she’s thinking about how Mya looks her best to her and is unable to really think of that because it's not considered proper.

“When Margaery Tyrell smiled, she looked very like her brother Loras.”

This one is pretty self explanatory. She thinks of how lovely Margaery looks repeatedly and when Margaery is admirable and happy, she once again contextualizes her attraction by bringing a man into the picture.

My thoughts on her “crushes” on men:

Now, her 3 real crushes in the books are Joffrey Baratheon, Loras Tyrell, and Waymar Royce. They all follow a very similar template. Men straight out of the songs and stories that Sansa loves.

“Sansa did not really know Joffrey yet, but she was already in love with him. He was all she ever dreamt her prince should be, tall and handsome and strong, with hair like gold.”

And

“Joffrey smiled and kissed her hand, handsome and gallant as any prince in the songs.”

Joffrey is someone Sansa likes because he’s the prince out of songs, the idealized prince in the stories. And Sansa loves songs and stories so she thinks she loves Joffrey. When she comments on Joffrey’s beauty, it’s almost always in the context of songs or stories. He’s also the easiest crush, her betrothed who she has to learn to love.

“Ser Gregor was the monster and Ser Loras the true hero who would slay him. He even looked a true hero, so slim and beautiful, with golden roses around his slender waist and his rich brown hair tumbling down into his eyes.”

And

“Wed to Ser Loras, oh . . . Sansa's breath caught in her throat. She remembered Ser Loras in his sparkling sapphire armor, tossing her a rose. Ser Loras in white silk, so pure, innocent, beautiful.”

Loras is also an ideal out of the songs. Sansa says it herself. He’s the hero she wants. She always thinks of him in that context. It makes sense that she crushes on him. He’s a safe easy crush. It’s like the asoiaf equivalent of crushing on some guy in a boyband.

Sansa’s interactions with Margaery

“You will love Highgarden as I do, I know it.” Margaery brushed back a loose strand of Sansa’s hair. “Once you see it, you’ll never want to leave. And perhaps you won’t have to.”

The way Margaery tries to appeal to Sansa and talk to her almost echoes a flirtation. Pushing a strand of hair behind someone’s ear is a textbook romantic move. And the persuasion relies on Sansa liking Margaery and is all about finding love.

“”Margaery’s kindness had been unfailing, and her presence changed everything.”

The way Sansa thinks of Margaery is quite striking and loving. It is as though Margaery was this big important force in Sansa’s life.

“Margaery was different, though. Sweet and gentle, yet there was a little of her grandmother in her, too. The day before last she’d taken Sansa hawking.”

Sansa also goes on what pretty much amounts to dates with Margaery. And the sentiment of Margaery being different is very similar to Arya’s thoughts on Gendry: “Only Gendry was different” and their relationship is often considered to have romantic undertones. It’s also interesting that gentle is used to describe Margaery when that is one of the words Ned used to describe Sansa’s future romance.

“She is so brave, Sansa thought, galloping after her.”

Sansa clearly admires Margaery immensely and her thoughts are always complimentary. She clearly crushes on her.

Sansa’s interactions with Myranda:

And you must be the Lord Protector’s daughter,” she added, as the bucket went rattling back up to the Eyrie. “I had heard that you were beautiful. I see that it is true.”

Alayne curtsied. “My lady is kind to say so.”

“Kind?” The older girl gave a laugh. “How boring that would be. I aspire to be wicked. You must tell me all your secrets on the ride down. May I call you Alayne?”

The complimenting of Sansa’s beauty is another common trope in flirtation. And the way she interacts is very sexual and ostentatious. It’s flirty. And asking to call someone by their first name is also a romantic trope.

“Randa. It seems a hundred years since I was four-and-ten. How innocent I was. Are you still innocent, Alayne?”

She blushed. “You should not ... yes, of course.”

Sansa is nervous around Myranda in a way she’s not around men. She even blushes. Myranda is also directly questioning Sansa about her sexual experience.

“Despite herself, Alayne found herself warming to the older girl.”

She starts developing a crush.

“She is trying to make me blush again.

Lady Myranda must have heard her thoughts. “You do turn such a pretty shade of pink. When I blush I look quite like an apple. I have not blushed for years, though.” She leaned closer.”

Once again, this is super flirty and seductive. She’s complimenting Sansa on her blush and implying her own experience. This whole conversation is ripe with that stuff.

“She ate with Mya and Myranda. “So you’re brave as well as beautiful,” Myranda said to her.

“No.” The compliment made her blush. “I’m not. I was so scared. I don’t think I could have crossed without Lord Robert.”

Once again Sansa blushes at Myranda’s comments.

“By the time they finally reached her father’s castle, Lady Myranda was drowsing too, and Alayne was dreaming of her bed.”

This is some interesting word play. It might not be intentional but ships like Braime have similar lines.

And a few miscellaneous/bonus things:

“Septa Mordane said all men are beautiful, find his beauty, try.”

This is how Sansa thinks about Tyrion. She’s a child forcibly married to him so she’d probably judge him harshly regardless but this phrasing struck me. It’s very similar to the way lgbtq people are often told to try to love another gender even if they cannot. And the way Septa Mordane taught Sansa about attraction and gender obviously has a huge influence on her perception of her own sexuality.

“When a serving girl brought her supper, she almost kissed her.”

And this is Sansa thinking about kissing a girl.

“I am coming for you, Lady Sansa, she thought as she rode into the darkness. Be not afraid. I shall not rest until I've found you.”

The fact that the true knight Sansa wishes for, the hero out of the stories, the romantic trope is Brienne, a woman, has some awesome queer implications. Even if her relationship with Brienne isn’t really a romantic one, it certainly fits the idea of courtly love.

#asoiaf #sansa stark #lesbian Sansa Stark #sapphicsansafest #sansasource #sansaery #Sansa x Myranda #Sansa x Mya #asoiaf meta #my meta

[megsironthrone]

Flustered and Admired

Based on this request:  It’s been so long since I’ve seen a notification from you. I dunno what’s up with Tumblr lately for me. I hope you’re doing well. Could is possibly request a fem reader sparring with Brienne. The reader saying some flirty remarks that fluster her or something along those lines.Big scary woman make head empty and that’s all I can say about that lol from @lycorsa​

and this one:  Do you also write for Brienne? If so how about a plot where the reader is insisting to be trained as a fighter by her? Brienne gains some confidence due to the reader and Podrick admiring her so much. But when the reader loses a fight Brienne’s I-will-crush-anyones-head-who-touches-thwm mode is triggered?

Here you are, lovelies! *As always, familiar characters are NOT mine!*

Warnings: Mentions of sparring so mild violence, but mostly fluff. (and my horrible flirting. Sorry, lovelies)

Pairings/Characters: Brienne of Tarth x reader

You hadn't meant for this to happen. You hadn't meant to develop feelings for the statuesque warrior. She just grabbed your attention and kept it. The longer you were around her, the more your feelings grew. That should have told you to run the other way. With the world in the state it was in after the Great War, love had no place yet. But did you do that? Of course not. You did the complete opposite.

         "Would you train me?" you asked her. She stared at you for a moment. "You want me to train you?" You nodded and smiled. "Yes. You're the captain of the Kingsguard for a reason, Brienne. You are the best warrior alive. And Podrick speaks highly of your abilities."

         Brienne blushed and you swore you'd never seen anything more adorable. That wasn't a word you would normally use to describe her, but with that pink tinting her cheeks, that was precisely what she was. "I suppose I could train you," she said slowly. You beamed at her. "Thank you. You won't regret it." With that, you ran off, leaving Brienne staring after you.

         That was the beginning of things. It didn't take you long to get comfortable with Brienne. Not the training, of course. That was intense, though you could make it playful when you wanted to which you did. Often. You very quickly learned that Brienne was easily flustered but not angered so you would always find some small thing to compliment her on whenever you trained.

         And you flirted. Boy did you flirt. "Good form," she praised. "I could say the same for you," you replied with a wink. Her cheeks turned red, making you laugh. You loved how flustered Brienne got, especially when she still didn't seem to make the connection that you were slowly falling in love with her.

         Even though nothing in your relationship with Brienne changed, you could see a change in her. There was a confidence blooming in the woman that hadn't been there before. Brienne hadn't had many people look at her the way you and Podrick did. Although you looked at her a bit differently than Pod, you both admired her strength and resilience. It gave Brienne a sense of self-worth she hadn't had before. Unfortunately, not everyone agreed with you about the warrior.

         A lot of the other knights weren't happy to serve under Brienne. Despite the fact that she had more than proven her worth, they weren't pleased that she had been knighted above them. Jealousy was a strange thing and it made them say things they shouldn't have. Especially in front of you. One day, you'd finally had enough.

         "What did you say?" you asked one particularly loud complainer. He repeated himself and you grew angry. You knew you shouldn't have tried to fight him. You weren't ready, but you weren't about to stand there and let this man insult Brienne's honor. Without giving it a second thought, you pulled you sword, silently challenging the man. He accepted.

         You were outmatched. You knew that, but that didn't stop you from trying. The man and the other knights laughed at your attempt. It didn't take long for you to end up in the dirt with the man's sword pointed at your throat. "What is going on here?!" you heard Brienne's voice snap. The man, for all his boasting, looked scared out of his wits. He lowered his sword, allowing you the chance to spring back up to your feet.

         Brienne turned her blue eyes to you. "He insulted you," you explained, "I wouldn't let it go unanswered." Brienne turned to him. "I don't care what you think of me. Your opinion means nothing. But you will NOT accept a challenge for my honor with someone else. If you wish to insult me, fine. Then challenge me." Brienne gripped the hilt of her sword, ready to unsheathe it if necessary.

         The knight glanced between you and Brienne. It was clear he was trying to decide if he was stupid enough to take on Brienne's challenge. Brienne merely stared him down, waiting patiently. Eventually, he decided to take her on. After all, if he won(doubtfully), he could easily take her place as Captain of the Kingsguard. He raised his sword again, taking a stance he hoped would be enough to take on his commander.

         You watched in awe as Brienne and this knight engaged in a graceful dance of swords. The clashing of the steel practically echoed through the courtyard. You couldn't move. You could hardly breathe as you watched Brienne. You weren't afraid. Far from it. It was as if every thought just disappeared from your head when you saw just how fierce and strong the woman was.  

         You hadn't even noticed the fight ended until Brienne was in front of you once again. "Are you alright?" You stared at her with your mouth unable to form words. You gave a little nod of your head. "T-That was-" you cut off as your brain tried to find the right word, "Incredible. Amazing!" Brienne gaped at you. "Are you sure you're alright? You're acting like you hit your head." You laughed.

         "I'm fine. I just…you're wonderful." Brienne continued to stare at you for a moment before she chuckled softly. She shook her head. "You are strange. You spend all your time training making these comments that, if I didn't know better, I would say were rather flirtatious. Yet now you can hardly say a word."

         You blinked in surprise. "So you did notice?" Brienne rolled her crystal blue eyes. "I would have to be an idiot not to, Y/N. I simply didn't know if you were joking or not. It's happened before," she told you sadly. It was the first time you'd heard her sound broken. You instantly shook your head. "I wasn't. I've never been good at outright telling people my feelings. Flirting was easy. Telling you that I've been falling in love with you isn't."

         Even though you were outside, the air suddenly seemed too thick to breathe. That wasn't what you had meant to say at all. She just had a way of making your brain stop functioning for small moments at a time. The look on Brienne's face was mixture of disbelief and surprise. "Are-Are you telling me the truth?" she asked quietly. Your heart broke a little. Despite all the confidence you and Podrick had instilled in her, she still didn't believe someone could love her?!

         You slowly drew a little closer to her. "I have never lied to you, Brienne. It's out in the open now. I have very strong feelings for you. I think…I think I'm in love with you. You can do with that what you will, but know this; no matter your feelings for me, you are worthy of love, Brienne. You are beautiful, inside and out. You are strong and courageous and fierce. Never let anyone make you feel like you don't deserve love and respect."

         It was your turn to feel flustered when Brienne suddenly grabbed you, pulling you closer to her. You were grateful she wasn't wearing her armor at the moment. The force she'd used would have bruised you if you had hit armor. You felt your entire body heat up at the contact. Brienne looked into your eyes for a moment, like she was deciding on what to do next.

         You tentatively wrapped your arms around her waist and nearly melted into a puddle when you felt Brienne's lips press a kiss to your hair. Even if nothing else happened between you, you would gladly relive this moment over and over for the rest of your life. This was your moment of pure, albeit flustered, perfection.

(a/n: I hope you enjoyed it!)

Forever Tags: @fizzyxcustard​ @brewsthespirit-blog​ @etherealpotter​ @line-viper​ @frozenhuntress67​ @cd1242​ @smalltownbigheart​ @gruffle1​ @igotmadskills​

#george r.r. martin #game of thrones #brienne of tarth #brienne of tarth x reader #brienne x reader

[sailorshadzter]

coronation day.

The morning of her coronation, she wakes alone.

Shae is there, of course, the only one there so early in the morning, her silent presence offering Sansa comfort and peace. "My lady," she greets as she approaches the bedside, dressing robe in hand; in this moment of privacy, Shae addresses her as she always has for what certainly will be the last time. When she's risen from the bed and her robe in place, Shae ushers her towards over to the table, which has a plate of warm bread and smoked meat, something quick and simple for her to eat before the long process of her day begins.

By the time she's finished eating, two additional maids have joined the room, only after the large copper tub has been brought into the room. Brienne appeared for a single moment, to stoke the fire to ensure her lady's warmth, before returning down to the main hall to keep watch over the preparations alongside Lord Royce. Bucket after bucket of hot, steaming water is poured into the tub until it's nearly overflowing and only then does Shae stop the maids from coming. She drips lavender and rosewater into the bath until the room smells heavenly and that is when all others are sent away, leaving Sansa and Shae alone once more. "It is like it was back then," Sansa says as she rises up from where she sits, a faint smile gracing her features. "Back in King's Landing."

Since the day Shae had arrived in Winterfell, they had not really spoken of those days so long ago. It seemed easier, in truth. Instead, they talked about everything else- Sansa telling her of her horrors as Ramsay Bolton's wife, opening up to the only other person about it besides Jon. Shae tells her about the beauty of Essos and her glimpse of the fallen Targaryen queen before she sailed for Westeros. They talk about the retaking of Winterfell and slowly, but surely, finding the pieces of her family. By the end, Shae smiles, knowing that despite everything that has happened to her young lady, she has found happiness.

"It is... So in the tub with you," Shae responds with a chuckle, reaching out so she can slide the robe from her shoulders. Sansa herself tugs her nightgown over her head and she climbs into the tub. The water, warm and delicious, sloshes over the sides, and she can't help but to sink low and enjoy the sweet scented water.

However in no time, Shae has washed her hair and every inch of her body, and the water has begun to grow cold despite the roaring fire. And so a warm sheet is brought by another maid and Shae wraps her in it as soon as she climbs from the tub, guiding her to the chair before her vanity. Across the room a maid is laying out the gown she's sewn herself, a dress which holds a piece of everyone she's ever loved. The dress is a soft gray, the fabric she was given years ago now, fabric which once was that of Margaery's gown for her wedding to Joffrey. Though Sansa has had the fabric dyed, it is a piece of her one and only friend (besides Shae that is) from her time in King's Landing. The gray of the gown reminds her of her father, for it is the very same shade of his favorite shirt, one which her mother had sewn for him years before when Sansa herself was still clinging to her skirts. The sweeping sleeves are patterned with fish scales, a nod to her mother and Tully roots, and the underside is falling weirwood leaves, a stark red against the gray, those are for Bran of course. Black armor fits comfortably over the bodice, wrought in metal, it represents the both the growing branches of the weirwood trees and for her, symbols what has yet to come. There will be a cloak too- one shouldered, for Arya who wears one every day, though the color is for Jon, black as the clothes he wears, and the tufts of fur its made from for little Rickon, lost to them but not ever forgotten. Even her needle, once worn faithfully around her neck, hangs from a chain around her waist- a piece of herself among all those for her family. And finally comes the crown that she will wear, one of direwolves, not just her family's sigil, but a representation of the wolf king that never came to be. But of course, her crown should be that which reminds her of Robb, the King in the North who came before both her and Jon.

"It's time, your grace," Shae speaks softly, gently, pulling Sansa from her swirling thoughts. All this time that she's been lost within her own mind, Shae has brushed out her hair and dabbed rosewater behind her ears and against her neck. It's true, she can see now the sunlight that pours in from between her curtains, telling her the sun has risen high into the sky. If she doesn't dress soon, she will be late to her own coronation. Suddenly her stomach twists in knots and she finds that she can't find the strength to rise up from where she sits. "Come now, let's get you dressed." Shae gently rises her up from where she sits and steers her into the center of the room, where another maid patiently waits to assist in the process that will be dressing Sansa in her elaborate gown.

And then, when she's fully dressed, there comes a knock to the door.

Shae opens it and steps aside a moment later, offering a quick curtsy to the guest before stepping aside so they may enter. Jon approaches where she stands and for a moment, he's mesmerized by the sight of her; she stands tall in her gray gown, her long red hair worn loose from it's usual braids, instead it falls straight down her back and even from there he can smell her familiar scent of rosewater. He's so lost in this moment of seeing her he's forgotten to bow or even speak, let alone the real reason he's come to her rooms so last minute. "How do I look?" She's asking, bringing him back, reminding him that he's come for a reason that was simply not to stare.

"Beautiful." It's the first word that comes to mind and she's blushing beneath his gaze, her rosy lips curving with a smile. Somewhere behind them, Shae ducks from the room. "I have something for you." He goes on and her smiles vanishes, replaced instead with a look of surprise. From within his doublet he pulls a small box, placed there that morning after he'd dressed in his new clothes, ones which of course Sansa had prepared for him. I'd have sewn them myself, she had said that day when she'd given them to him, but my gown took far longer than I anticipated... He had laughed, but was silenced when he unwrapped the package, his shock at the finery before him bringing a laugh from her instead. "Go on, open it," he encourages her softly and she reaches out, taking the box from him.

When she opens it, she finds she cannot breathe.

Nestled in a soft bed of silk is a shining silver pendant, made from the finest of metals, in the design of a direwolf. It's delicate, made so beautifully that as she runs a finger across it, she can feel the texture of the fur that's carved into it. And the eye... It's a beautiful gem of amber and gold, a color so unlike anything she's ever seen except for.... "Lady...." She's murmuring, tears brimming in her eyes as she realizes the gem is the very same color as her beloved wolf's eyes. "Oh, Jon." When she looks up, Jon is grinning sheepishly, though he reaches out and with a gentle swipe from his thumb, catches the tears that cling to her lashes.

"You have a piece of everyone except for her... I wanted you to have her with you, too." He's sobered now, Stark gray eyes solemn as they stare back at her. "Here," he's reaching for the necklace now, gesturing for her to turn around, which when she does he clasps it around her neck, lingering for a moment longer just so he can feel the brushing of her hair against his hands as she lets it fall back into place. She turns back around then and the pendant sits against her chest, the silver sharp and bright against the black armor, but perfectly fitting for her gown.

"Thank you," she's whispering, tearing up again, but Jon laughs as he shakes his head, urging her not to cry. "I'll treasure it forever." She goes on, hand reaching up to gingerly touch it, as if it were the most precious of things. And in truth, it was.

"Come on then, or else you'll be late," Jon says, offering her his arm, which she takes with a single nod. Together they step out of the room and he leads her along the hall, down the stairs and to the main hallway, which has been lit with torches all the way down to the double doors of the great hall. "I must leave you here," Jon says and she nods, though she can't help but to cling to his arm, keeping him there. "I'll be watching," he says softly, leaning in so his lips capture hers in a fleeting kiss that she feels long after he's gone.

And then, with the strength Jon has given her, she walks down the hall and pushes open the doors that lead her to her destiny.

#jonsa #actuallyjonsa #jon x sansa #my writing #i wrote this #this has been in my head all day so #i finally finished it #this is the piece i was working on that made me neglect sleep last week lol

[everydayescapeartist]

JB Fic Exchange Recs - Canon Oneshots

Okay, another few oneshots from the @jaime-brienne-fic-exchange but more of the canon variety.  Again, just a sampling of some I enjoyed...there are so many good ones!

let me crawl inside your veins - this is a continuation of ADWD showing Brienne and Jaime's journey to Pennytree/LSH and the thoughts, conversations, and MORE that happen along the way (read: first time in the wilderness, and hot yes).  The Brienne POV in this is wonderful and this is just beautifully done and it completely tugs at your heartstrings.  Ugh, I just love these two, okay??!!

Excerpt 1: Jaime had once given an unprompted lesson on lying during his time as her prisoner. You have to believe it, he’d said. If you believe what you say, so will the poor fool who hears it.

“My lord, you gave me a quest.”

That much was true, at least.

“The girl,” he said, understanding lighting up his face. “Have you found her?” He was hopeful, his smile nearly proud.

Believe what you say.

Believe what you say.

Believe what you say.

“I have.”

Please don’t believe me.

“Where is she?” Excerpt 2: “Patience, my lady,” he said.

“I’ve been waiting for you a long time, ser.” dream deep heavy sleeper (dream light heavy heart) - Quiet Isle time (and defying of the Isle's rules), including bed-sharing, hurt/comfort/healing, watching the one you love while they sleep, declarations, and sweetness.

Excerpt: For a moment, Jaime looked mildly chastised. It was such an unfamiliar expression to see on his face that she was almost disconcerted by it. Then he raised his chin, green eyes flashing, and it was gone again.

“So they would prefer you to be left alone in the height of your fever, wracked with pain and plagued by nightmares, calling for me so loudly I could hear you all the way over in the men’s cells? That does not seem especially kind to me.”

Brienne faltered, all her righteous anger gone in an instant. “I called for you?”

She remembered her fever dreams when they had first brought her to Stoneheart, how she’d cried out for Jaime to save her. The one-eyed man had called her the Kingslayer’s whore, and when she’d asked why, he’d said if I had a silver stag for every time you said his name, I’d be as rich as your friends the Lannisters. It had been embarrassing enough in front of the Brotherhood. The thought of Jaime hearing it was mortifying. She wanted to curl up and hide, like an insect under a stone that had been overturned.

But Jaime did not laugh, as she had half-expected him to. Instead his face was grave. “Aye, and the sound haunts me. I never should have sent you on that thrice-damned foolish quest.” Companion - This is a beautiful piece that explores Jaime and Brienne’s growing relationship through scenes involving food and drink.  Pears, oranges, and meat, oh my!  My description doesn’t do it justice -- it’s just so smart and so lovely!

Excerpt 1:

She finishes her meat, lifts the bowl with the remaining broth to her lips. A jerk on the rope around her middle makes her spill the liquid down the inside of her plate and, oh, she is going to drown him in the next stream.

Excerpt 2:

She turns to leave, grabbing the wine flagon as she goes.

“I was drinking that!” he protests.

“Notice how you said ‘was’ there?”

Excerpt 3:

A plate of unshucked oysters is the height of comedy. If Lord Selwyn ever stops fantasising about his violent death from behind a wine goblet, they’ll get along like ham and maggots. The way Brienne’s knuckles whiten around her goblet tells him she does not share his wry admiration of the starter course at Evenfall.

“This is how it’s going to be, is it?” she asks. delicate in every way but one - This is a great scene of Jaime asking Brienne to spar with him before she leaves King’s Landing and that subsequent spar.

Excerpt:

“No matter. You’re still the man you were before.”

He raised his stump at her. “I am very much not.”

“Do you not still serve to protect the King? To preserve the good of the people?”

Jaime didn’t answer, but he didn’t need to. They both knew the truth of it well enough.

Second Hand News - This is a touching missing scene of Jaime bearing the burden of sharing the news of the Red Wedding and the death of Lady Catelyn with Brienne before they reach King’s Landing.  There’s protectiveness, wound concern, bed sharing, and honesty.  Oh, my heart!

Excerpt:

Jaime took in a breath and let it out carefully. He dropped the saddlebag onto the bed and then he sat, too. “I know that you have no reason to trust me,” he said. “But it is not… It is not nothing to me, what we have gone through together these last few weeks. You looked out for me when I could not look after myself.”

#jaime x brienne fic exchange 2021 #jb fic exchange 2021 #braime fic recs #jb fic recs #braime fic reccs #jaime x brienne #jb fic reccs #my recs

[ddagent]

Jaime tries to surprise Brienne for Valentine’s Day with a romantic dinner in her apartment and has to contend with her curious pet cat.

Thank you for the prompt, Anon! I hope you enjoy my take on it. 

Jaime quickly realised why Brienne did not allow people back into her apartment. 

Ever since Brienne had started at King’s Landing University a year ago, it had been a running joke. At first, they’d assumed she was shy. Recently returning from an archaeological dig in Ancient Valyria, Professor Tarth was competent if not compelling. But as the year had gone on and she had insistently turned down offers to host the weekly moderation-slash-potluck, a different kind of pot had started. Bodies in the freezer, a partner she didn’t want anyone to meet, truly horrendous taste in furniture...these theories and many more were bandied about by the department. Jaime had never much cared until he and Brienne had grown closer and yet...still no invitation. 

He could see why now. 

“Hello...” he murmured in a low voice to the half-foot tall dragon that had backed him into a corner. “Aren’t you a...pretty thing.”

In truth, the dragon was reminiscent of the beautiful drawings Jaime and his brother, Tyrion, had poured over as children. Black, bottomless eyes; scales the colour of molten gold that shifted red in the light. It was a thing of beauty – and power. He had worked on sites where the dragons of old had decimated the population. He had dug up the bodies of the Dragon Queen’s victims near Highgarden; had examined the shields burnt black with flame. But this was not the fully-fledged dragons that had resurged during the War of the Three Queens. This was barely bigger than a cat. 

“Now, now, little one,” he said, rising to his feet slowly. “I am just going to take a step towards the door and go home. That’s all.”

But as he turned towards Brienne’s front door, abandoning the groceries he had brought to make a romantic Maiden’s Day feast, he realised there was more than one. Two other dragons stood in his path. The first had blue scales almost the same shade of Brienne’s eyes; the other was jet black and seemed to stare into Jaime’s very soul. He edged forwards towards the door, hoping he could evade them, when his foot caught on the rug. 

Sprawling across the floor, Jaime’s head hit hardwood. As six dragons focussed into three, he watched with terror as they approached his face. “Oh, fuck.” He didn’t want to die like this. Didn’t want Brienne to come home and find him half-eaten by her pets. He’d wanted her to come home from her late class to a romantic dinner. Music, sunflowers, wine. Three little words he’d wanted to say for some time...

“Don’t eat me.”

 --

Brienne checked her phone as she got off the tube and began the slow walk to her apartment. She usually kept her phone off during seminars and one of her students, Podrick, had drawn her into conversation all the way from campus to her home at Visenya’s Hill. But now she was free to look at her phone and the string of messages from Jaime. She’d disliked him immensely at first; found him rude and arrogant if blindingly attractive. But he had a romantic heart under his armour, and she’d found herself softening as they co-taught a class on romanticism in the Dragon Age. 

Jaime ♥: Missed you today in class, Professor. Someone was talking smack about the Blue Knight and I almost, almost sent him to your class so he could learn something.  Jaime ♥: But then I realised, if anyone’s getting sent to your class, it’s going to be ME.  Jaime ♥: Hope your last class goes okay.  Jaime ♥: Oh, and Happy Maiden’s Day, Professor. Want to talk about the historical development of the day as a romantic holiday with our clothes off? 

Brienne laughed, shaking her head at her Jaime. With her late class and his six am tutorials, neither had pushed to make plans. But if Jaime wanted her to come over, she certainly would oblige. 

Jaime ♥: There’s a romantic surprise waiting at your apartment, Professor. You should come and unwrap it ;)

Eyes widening, Brienne stared at Jaime’s last message. “No, no, no, no, no...” Shoving her phone back into her bag, Brienne sprinted the last few streets to her apartment. 

While taking part in a dig in Ancient Valyria, Brienne had uncovered three dragon eggs perfectly preserved. The dig’s leader, a particularly odious man by the name of Randyll Tarly, had declared them nothing more than tourist trash. He’d encouraged her to throw them aside. Something had called to Brienne, however, and she’d kept the eggs. Vindication and validation had quickly followed. 

Along with three carnivorous pets. 

Pushing her way through the front door of her apartment building, Brienne skipped the lift and threw herself up the three flights of stairs. Her place was at the far end of the corridor; light and soft music floating underneath the door. Maybe he hadn’t found them. Maybe they’d remained in the spare bedroom with the chew toys. Maybe—

“Here we go, Gerion; that’s a good boy. How does that taste?”

Brienne stepped into her apartment to find Jaime Lannister cooking a romantic meal with her three dragons sitting atop the counter. Gerion, with his golden scales, jumped up to catch the pieces of steak Jaime was throwing from the pan. Elenei, who reminded Brienne of the waters of Tarth, had her head in Jaime’s oven glove. Galladon was butting a sunflower from a nearby bouquet with his head. 

“Jaime?”

“Brienne!” He grinned, threw another slice of steak to Gerion to catch, before crossing the distance to take her hands in his. “First of all, I want to apologise for breaking into your apartment. I thought it would be charming and romantic.”

“You can see why I haven’t invited anyone round.”

“Of course. I honestly thought they were going to eat me to start with. But then they just started licking my face and chewing on my shoelaces, and here we are.” He rubbed his thumbs over the inside of her wrists and placed a featherlight kiss to her lips. “Happy Maiden’s Day, Brienne. There’s half-eaten flowers on the kitchen island and dinner is nearly ready.”

Brienne nodded, approaching the scene with trepidation, as Jaime returned to the stove. A romantic dinner for two had been set up in the living room: candles, romantic music, an expensive bottle of wine. Sunflowers lay strewn across the floor, and half of their dinner looked like it had been devoured by her dragons. Brienne’s journals, detailing their growth and activities, lay open near the sink. Jaime had clearly done his reading. 

“Now, Elenei, I’m going to need those gloves back. I’m not impervious to heat or fire.” The dragon playfully nipped at Jaime’s fingers before jumping down from the kitchen top to attack Jaime’s expensive loafers. “Gerion, I can’t feed you any more; I’m sorry. But if you’re a good boy, I’ll let you have some marshmallows later.” 

“You brought marshmallows?”

Jaime nodded. “And other things we could dip in chocolate. Thought it would be romantic.”

As he ushered Galladon off the counter so he could plate their dinner, Brienne was overwhelmed by how lucky she was. Anyone else would have called the Gold Cloaks. But not Jaime. He treated them as if they were just exotic pets that Brienne had around the house rather than the fire-breathing, life-destroying monsters they would grow up to be. He smiled at her, as warm as always, and pulled out a seat for her to take at their romantic table for two. 

“Wine?”

“I love you.”

Jaime’s grin split from ear to ear. Her dragons, who had seemingly taken to Jaime quicker than she had, puffed in approval. “I love you, too.”

#Anonymous #braime #jaime x brienne #mine: paragraph prompts #ship: braime

[dreadwulf]

Through the Fire, To the Limit, To the Wall

part one  

part two  

part three 

the original Part Four, which will now be Five

(Here’s a surprise chapter of Ring of Fire! Or at least it was a surprise for me. This will actually slot in as chapter 4 on AO3, as it takes place before Jaime arrives at King’s Landing in the Burning Down the House chapter.)

For Podrick, at least, it is a beautiful day.

He had been awakened with a surly shout by the Commander's squire Peck, who called the boys to order like they were real soldiers, and they had clamoured up and out of their beds with a minimum of dawdling and giggling. They were all ages and sizes, and they lined up by height, rearranging themselves anew every day with Pod shoved somewhere in the middle. 

When everyone else had been sent to break their fast, he, Podrick, had been taken on a special mission, stealthily retrieving Oathkeeper from the armory tent. Peck had distracted the quartermaster with conversation while Pod slipped inside, and he had been quiet as a mouse searching through the weaponry to find the valyrian steel sword enclosed in a fine case lined with velvet. The blade stood nearly as tall as him, and he had to smuggle it under his cloak, holding tight to the scabbard with his hands behind his back and even then he looked to have a second head, but somehow no one had questioned him when he reappeared at Peck’s side and they managed to steal away together without raising any alarm. 

Peck’s praise for that had been nearly as great a reward as being allowed to swing the sword himself, for just a few moments, before they put it back in the scabbard and brought it to the wood where Ser Jaime awaited them. 

Ser Brienne had been there as well. She stood right next to the Commander and yet they had looked very far apart. But still, she had smiled to see Podrick, and the two of them had been set on a pretty chestnut horse and sent riding off into a new adventure -- leaving Pod’s new friends behind, but back together with his lady knight, a squire once more.

All in all, it is a wonderful start to a day, and it is still yet morning. 

“Did you enjoy your time in the Lannister camp, Podrick?” Ser Brienne asks him. She rides ahead of him, while the squire grips her waist, and she turns her head only a little to address him, so that he cannot see her face.

“Oh yes, milady,” Pod answers her excitedly. “Do you think we could go back for a visit someday?”

She turns away at that, and does not answer. 

They ride without speaking for some time. They look to be going east, with the sun stabbing directly at them through the trees. He holds onto her only lightly. Pod knows she had been badly hurt, is still recovering, and he does not want to pain her. He wonders if she is really recovered - any time he catches a glimpse of her face, her brow is furrowed with pain. Perhaps they should have stayed with the Lannister army a day longer. 

“Where will we ride to next, milady Ser?” he pipes up. 

Still she does not answer.

Ser Brienne has always kept herself to herself, and Podrick is accustomed to this. He feels fine riding silently with her, and today it is especially grand to be in her company again. It’s always all right either way, whether he talks or not. If he stammers she will not laugh at him, or hurry him along impatiently and push him through each sentence as Lord Tyrion used to. No, the quiet around her has room for him to finish his thoughts, and often in her company his stuttering lifts and he can speak quite normally. Or he can be quiet as a mouse, and she will not think him stupid or forget he is there.

There is often a great deal on her mind, and sometimes she is lost in her thoughts and does not answer him. But Ser Brienne remembers things he says even if she doesn’t reply. She always remembers Pod. She always makes sure he has food to eat and a warm place to sleep. She has been teaching him to fight with a sword, just because he asked her to, and she is a patient and forgiving teacher. If she promises him something she will do it without fail. She is solid and reliable and when there is danger she will be there to meet it first of anyone, and she would never run off and forget him or abandon him to a nasty fate. He knows that as surely as he knows the sun will rise. Pod is safe around Ser Brienne, though that is not a word or a sense that he is familiar with. He does not remember having a single home, or parents, but he remembers sleeping soundly under the stars with Ser Brienne watchful over him in the dark night, and that feeling must be much the same. 

Brienne stops them just before they reach Maidenpool. A train of wagons are rolling out of the growing settlement with a moderate guard. They wait a little ways back from the road.

“Lord Tarly’s men,” Podrick identifies the banner. “Allies of King Renly, and of the Tyrells.”

“Lord Tarly is no ally of mine,” she says darkly, and in a lower tone adds, “but what allies have I left?”

He tugs at her sleeve. “Should we tell him of Ser Hyle?” 

Ser Brienne frowns harder somehow. “What would we tell him? No. We avoid Lord Tarly for now.”

When the train has passed, they ride cautiously into Maidenpool. The streets are crowded, but all are about their own business -- moving livestock, doing morning chores. No one gives them a second glance. 

They pass the bathhouse, newly festooned in banners to cover the faded bloodstains on the stone. Women congregate all around it, dressed in bright colors, hair wet and shining in the morning sun.

“Maidenpool looks a fair sight better than it did when we saw it last,” Podrick says, attempting to be cheerful.

He expects her to still be surly and silent, and he is surprised when she stops the horse and answers him instead.

“When first I saw this place, the waters were bloated with corpses, and the streets filled only with burnt-out husks of buildings. Archers ambushed us here, and Ser Jaime and I fought them off.”

Pod blinks back at her. That must have been when Ser Jaime had been her prisoner, on the journey back to King’s Landing. She speaks of that rarely, even less than she speaks of everything. And then she looks back at him, as though she has just remembered that he is there.

“Do you know the tale of Jonquil’s Pool?” Brienne asks him abruptly.

“Yes, milady.” Pod offers it eagerly, leaning towards her. “The knight Ser Florian the Fool saw the lady Jonquil bathing there with her sisters, and he fell in love. Or at least, that’s the part I know.”

Brienne’s expression is distant and unreadable. She looks at the ladies going in and out of the bathhouse, and holds the reins tightly in her hands.

“He was a homely man, Florian. Picture him more patchwork than shining. His armor was mismatched and his reputation spotted. He was only a hedge knight and not well-born. He was no possible match for a highborn maid. But when he saw Jonquil in the bath he could not help but fall in love with her, for she was the most beautiful woman he had ever seen. Despite everything, he could not help himself. And in time he won her heart, through many trials and heartaches, he won her.” 

Pod shrugs. “Those songs are for girls perhaps. I haven’t heard those parts. They never sang them for me.”

“Perhaps they are.” She darkens palpably, her face dipping down into shadow. “I used to love those songs. When I was a girl, or something like it. But I admit it was foolish, Pod. Life isn’t a song.”

She spurs her horse to ride on.  

“Could you sing it for me, milady?” His innocent face turns up to her. “One of the songs about Florian and Jonquil?”

She snorts. “Ser Jaime could have sung you Six Maidens in a Pool, with great enthusiasm.”

There is an odder silence after that. 

“Do you want to look at the pool, milady Ser? We could stop at the Bathhouse.”

“I’ve never seen it,”  she concedes faintly. “Though I’ve been past this way thrice before. But it’s a place for fine ladies, Pod. Not for me.”

Instead they stop at a stream on the other side of Maidenpool. This one is a fairly ordinary pool, fed by a small spring. Before the winter there would have been flowers, and one can see where they would have been. Now there are only sickly shrubs. The water, though, is lovely and clear. 

Brienne dismounts her horse and kneels, suddenly, at the side of the stream. For an odd moment, it seems as though she will remove her riding gear and wade into it. She did after all never get that bath she had been promised. Instead she only leans forward and cups her hands in the water, splashing her face. She leaves her hands covering her face a moment too long, and when she removes them she stares down into the mirrored surface of the water for a long while. 

“Pod,” she says very seriously, “did you fare well amongst the boys at the camp? Were you well treated?”

“Yes Milady,” Pod nods eagerly. “They have their own tent and it’s bigger, much bigger than the one we use, and dry and warm and they sing and tell tales all the night through. Then we rode in the wagons and slept when the army moved and at dusk we could run and play until full dark and then we got real meat to eat. Jossmyn Peck, Ser Jaime’s squire, he said he would spar with me sometime, we never did though…”

Brienne nods back slowly. “Were they frightened? The other boys?”

Pod frowns at her quizzically. “No. Should they be?”

“I suppose not.” Brienne looks up and down the road swiftly. “Would you like to go back to them for a time?”

He frowns harder. “Aren’t we on a quest, milady?”  

“I am. You are not.” She stands. 

“I’m your squire.”

“I don’t have a squire. I’m not a knight.” She rubs her face again, leaving it wet and shining. “I’m a foolish girl who’s a long way from home, and I don’t know what to do next.”

“You are a knight really.” Pod argues with her stubbornly. “You’re the best knight I’ve ever seen, better than the Kingsguard and Ser Hyle and the knights we met on the road--”

“But I’m not. I thought I could be, if I were only so perfect and honorable that no one could find any fault in me, and I could fight better than everyone else, then they would have to knight me, they would have no choice. But I’m none of those things, Pod. I promised to protect Lady Catelyn, and instead she was slain. I promised to see her daughters freed from King’s Landing and they were already gone. I promised to see Ser Jaime safe to King’s Landing, and he lost his hand along the way. I promised to rescue Lady Sansa, and I cannot find her, much less see her safely home. I promised to restore Ser Jaime’s honor, and instead I betrayed him.”

“We can still find Lady Sansa,” the boy says stubbornly. “We haven’t looked everywhere yet.”

“We have no leads. There was only rumor to go on and even that has run dry. She could be anywhere now, she could be in the North or in the Reach, or in the Vale, or even across the Narrow Sea. We cannot search everywhere.” Her head bows forward, and her cheeks are wet.  “And what would I say if ever I found her? Shall I tell her how I failed her mother, and what she became? How then would I convince her that I can protect her? I cannot even convince myself.”

“You can protect her! You can protect anybody!”

“No, I can’t. I couldn’t protect Dick Crabb, I couldn’t protect Ser Hyle Hunt or Septon Merribald, I couldn’t protect the children at the orphanage, and I couldn’t protect you.” Her eyes fix, noticeably, on Podrick’s neck, where he knows an angry red burn around his throat still marks him. “I will never be knighted, and there is no place that I belong. Perhaps I should just return home.”

Brienne looks very sad. She has looked this way ever since they left the camp this morning. 

Podrick hates how sad she looks. He wracks his brain for something to say that might make her not look so sad. 

“Don’t worry, Pod,” Ser Brienne interrupts his thoughts. She is trying to smile. “All will be well.”

Podrick recognizes this smile. He has seen it before.

Ser Jaime had been angry when Podrick had met him, though he was trying not to show it. He had reassured him, and even made jokes, but something had seethed beneath it. The golden commander had been formidable in his anger, a towering fit of ire, and it had frightened him. The Lion of Lannister, the Kingslayer, had a famous temper fit to topple kingdoms. In the face of it he had stammered and stumbled over his words and the man had been like to snap his head off in frustration, so impatient he had been. 

“P-please ser,” he had finally pleaded with him. “It should be me imp...p-prisoned and not her. She only meant to free me; she begged them not to m-make her do it. She begged them. Ser Brienne would not betray a friend, it was m-me, she did it for me. P-put me on a stake in the ground and let her go.”

Ser Jaime had abruptly left him when he said that, with an expression more of pain than anger.

Podrick thinks on him now as a lion with a wounded paw roaring to keep everyone back. The second time he had met him the lion had been only wounded and not roaring, and not quite so frightening. He had been kinder to him, that time. He had smiled more, but the smiles did not reach his eyes. He had many more questions that time, mostly about Ser Brienne. Though he had called her Lady, which felt strange. Lady Brienne. No one else on their journey had ever addressed her so, and not with that lightly mocking tone which somehow sounded fond and not cruel. He asked, the Lion, if Lady Brienne had ever spoken of him, and Podrick had to tell him no. 

What he should have told him was that her silence on that matter had been very loud indeed. That his Lady kept certain things unspoken, and most of all those closest to her heart. He should have told the Lion how she had unwrapped Oathkeeper, the blade he had given her, only at night when she thought no one was looking and stared upon it, and ran her fingers over the jewels and the lions in the pommel, and wrapped it most carefully afterwards, handled it as though it were the most precious thing that she had, the most beloved. 

But he told the Lion no, because he did not know how to explain the other part, and she had never spoken of it. And the Lion had been unsurprised, and he had smiled a false smile, and sent him out to play in the snow, and Podrick had not thought of it again until now, when Ser Brienne shows him the same smile. 

They must have the same wound, somehow. A blow which had carved them in twain, and they did not know how to put themselves back together. 

Podrick knows little and less of how two people might rebuild that kind of trust. But the memory jars something else in him, a memory of the Lannister brother that he knew far better. Lord Tyrion, the Imp, who had been kind to Podrick, if a little dismissive. He had said a thousand wise things, and even read aloud to him, from time to time. And there had been a book there in his quarters, or even several books, about the great knights and the Age of Heroes. There is something there, faint in his memory, that he knows will be important.

Podrick stands up and speaks eagerly, without stammering. “At King’s Landing, I squired for Tyrion Lannister. Lord Tyrion was a smart man. He used to read a whole book every day! And he said, I remember, he said... that there were no knights in the Age of Heroes, they came later, with the Anders--”

“Andals--” she corrects him quietly.

“--right. The Andals had knights, but Westeros didn’t, not then. The heroes before they came were just heroes. But we call them knights anyway, even though they weren’t actually knighted like we do it now. They weren’t really knights!”

“That’s hardly the point--”

“The point is, it doesn’t matter what they really were. They’re knights now, whether people then called them that or not. Because of what they did. Because they were great.”

Her hands make fists. “They were great. They did great things. I haven’t done anything but lose.”

“They probably didn’t always win! We just don’t sing songs about those parts. Maybe they lost and lost and lost and they kept trying until they did something great, and that’s the part we remember now. Not the hard parts.”

Brienne looks down into the pool.

"If they never knighted you, it wouldn’t change the things you did. You would still have killed the bandits in the Saltpans. You would still have stopped that awful Rorge from hurting the children at the crossroads."

"But I don’t want to be merely a killer. I want to keep my promises. I want to be honorable." Her hair falls over her face, obscuring the terrible scars on her cheek. "I couldn't keep my oath to Lady Catelyn without breaking faith with Ser Jaime. I had to choose. If I cannot keep my oaths, if honor is denied me, what is left?"

But she seems to know the answer. She brushes her hair back behind her ears and sighs, and she sounds much older than before.

“There is something… something I feel I must do. But I don’t know if I’m brave enough. This task I cannot fail in, and I do not know if I can succeed.”

“You should try,” Pod pushes. 

“If I am a true knight,” she says hesitantly, and then more firmly, “then I must protect the realm, and defend the innocent. Less than a day’s ride from here, Pod, there is an invading army coming to kill King Tommen. He’s only a boy, even younger than you. And he is Ser Jaime’s son. I may have failed in the quest he gave me, but I might be able to help him defend the King. I must do whatever I can. Do you understand Pod? I have to.” 

 Pod brightens. This sounds more like the Brienne he knows. “I can help.”

“No,” she says sharply. “No. This part I must do alone. I can risk myself for this, but I will not risk you.”

“You would leave me behind?”

“I will come back.” She puts her hands on his shoulders. “If I yet live I will come back for you, Pod, and we’ll look for Lady Sansa. And for Lord Tyrion too, I know you wanted to rejoin him…”

“I want to stay with you,” Pod says miserably. 

Brienne looks surprised. Then her expression softens, briefly, and she squeezes his shoulders.

 “I will not be riding to battle, Podrick, not the way you’re thinking. I cannot be of help on the battlefield without knowing his plans, but I can try to get into the city ahead of the invasion, and protect the King and the Queen Regent. I will have to disguise myself, and there would be no way to bring you along. But do not worry, I would not go off and forget you. Not for Ser Jaime, not for anyone. I gave Ser Jaime to the Brotherhood to make sure you would be safe."

Pod’s face falls. Could it be his fault that Ser Lady Brienne and Ser Jaime are so unhappy? 

"I’m s-s-sorry,” he stammers.

"Don’t be sorry!” she says quickly, wiping at his face with her thumb. “I’m not sorry. Because of that you are here and alive and well. I could never be sorry for that. But now Ser Jaime is the one who needs my help. He thinks he will not win this battle, but he will go anyway, to try to save his son. I fear he will perish in the attempt. I cannot allow that to happen.”

Brienne’s face takes on a strange light then, one that Podrick will long remember.

“The knights in the songs would risk their lives to save a fair maiden from danger. Ser Jaime is not a maiden, but... If there is any chance I might save him from a ghastly fate I must try. I know it must seem foolish. I can’t explain it, but… it’s like a song, Podrick, a song I hear in my heart. Like when Ser Galladon went out to face the dragon, or when Florian met Jonquil. They knew which way their destiny lay, and they rode to meet it. I must do the same, or else be a coward forever. I only hope I can live up to their example.”

Podrick does not want to let her go again so soon. But if she doesn’t go, he knows, she will let herself down, and it will make her even sadder. Perhaps if she can help Ser Jaime, it will heal this wound of hers. Perhaps they could heal each other.  

“You can do it, milady ser. You can do anything.” He puts all the enthusiasm he can muster into his encouragement. “You’re the best sword-fighter in the world. You can take a few Targaryens.”

Brienne smiles genuinely, a gap-toothed, shy smile that he has never seen before.

“That’s going a bit far, Pod, but I shall do my best. You’re right, even if I cannot be a true knight, I can still protect the innocent and do what’s right. And if I cannot fight for honor, I can still fight for love.” 

Podrick beams. “What can I do to help?”

“You can go and stay with the other boys at the Lannister camp. Jaime won’t take them to war. I think he will leave an ancillary camp behind with the boys, and anyone else he would like to save. The boys, and his squire, and perhaps your cousin too. When you find them there, they will look after you until I return. Find them, and wait for me. Will you do that for me, Pod? So I wont worry?”

He nods. Because he has to, because she needs him to. He’s only just found her again, but he has to let her go. He can see it now - she is a true knight, and she is on a quest to a place he can’t follow. As her squire, he will have to do as she commands. 

He will go, and he will take great gulps of air to choke back the tears until she can’t see him anymore. 

She gives him much of the coin that Ser Jaime had left her, and all of the supplies too. She takes only the hound’s helmet, and Oathkeeper, and leaves him her horse. 

Brienne kneels before him before he takes his leave. “Keep practicing while I’m gone. Every day, the sword forms and the footwork. Will you?”

Pod nods wordlessly, to keep himself from stammering or sobbing. 

“I will return, I promise I will. I came back to the Brotherhood for you and I will come back to you this time. You’re my squire and as long as I live I will come back for you.”

Pod stares into her eyes resolutely. “No matter what. Promise.”

She stares back. “I promise.”

Pod throws his arms around her neck. At first she is still, but then her big arms wrap around him and pull him flush against her,  and she holds him so tightly he can scarcely breathe. She whispers, “thank you,” into his hair, again and again. He does not know what she is thanking him for.

#ring of fire #I've also just posted Part 3 to ao3 #I wanted to get this chapter up here first for a sneak peek #jaime x brienne #brienne of tarth #tumblr fic

[captainelliecomb]

WIP Wishlist Round One

Tumblr says go back to sleep. Fuck you, Tumblr, would that I could. Instead, have some of the WIPs I’m subscribed to right now; I don’t normally read or recommend WIPs, but these are some where I’ve loved what I have read (though am behind on commenting) and eagerly await updates. All are GOT/ASOIAF Jaime/Brienne, though mostly more plot heavy than straight romances. (In putting together the list, I realised this fandom has broken me, because these 10 are but a drop in the bucket of the WIPs I follow now. Damn it, J/B writers, you are too good.)

A Man for All Seasons by dreadwulf: Jaime goes north after season 7, Brienne and Jaime fight a dragon, Bran does his wonderfully annoying vague prophesying, and I need this to be finished. Last updated June 2020.

A Wreath of Thorns by LadyNormaOfTheWesterlands: Post Season 6, Cersei takes out Tarth in the very first chapter, Brienne has found a good place in Winterfell with respect and friendship (Lyanna fucking Mormont is the best), Tormund is a fucking delight, and the plot kills me, it’s so good. Last updated February 2020.  

Beware your dreams by Zeta_Mei: This is a delicious fairytale with murder and something like curses and secret Targaryens (of my favourite sort), and Starks being strange and feral and sweet. Last updated October 2020, but it feels like it was last updated years ago, I’m that eager for more.

The Black Mummers by SimoneBlack: Brienne grew up in exile with Daenerys, Missandei, Grey Worm, and Viserys and is sent to kill Tywin while the others deal with more of the politics around trying to retake the throne. Dany is a dreamer, and I did not know how much I would love Dany, Brienne, and Missandei growing up like sisters. Last updated March 2021.

The price of being a wolf by tall_wolf_of_tarth: Modern Westeros where Brienne works in a library basement overseeing Jaime’s community service and is also a werewolf. Last updated March 2020, and I am dying for more.

Crowned With Flowers by BecauseBraime: Barristan the Bold defeats Prince Rhaeger at the Harrenhal tourney which leads to Selwyn Tarth taking the throne and a wealth of other adventures. The premise is intriguing as hell, and I’ve already been surprised more than once. Currently updating daily.

her beauty and the moonlight overthrew you by janie_tangerine: Witcher AU that has convinced me to watch (and then read and then play) the Witcher. Witcher!Brienne is the best thing I could have imagined. Last updated April 2020.

No One Mourns the Wicked by boywholivednotdied: Jaime’s off to Riverrun for a month to spend time with Lysa, and Tyrion’s along for his company. Brienne is sworn to (and friends with) Catelyn, something I love. Last updated June 2020.

Switched at Birth by AlynnaStrong: Tyrion and Galladon are switched at birth, and I am idiot for reading a WIP that hasn’t been updated since 2019, but the premise intrigued me that much. There’s fake marriage, Yara Greyjoy being a surprise, Tyrion and Brienne the best siblings ever, and political intrigue everywhere. Last updated October 2019.

turn up the stage lights by potato_writes: Broadway (Visenya’s Way) AU where Brienne and Jaime star in a Martell production of Moulin Rouge, have off-the-charts chemistry, and deal with sexism, racism, homophobia, and other dark sides of theater. It’s wonderful and helps scratch the itch of missing live theater. Last updated March 2021.

#brienne x jaime #game of thrones #asoiaf #dreadwulf #ladynormaofthewesterlands #zeta_mei #simoneblack #tall_wolf_of_tarth #becausebraime #janie_tangerine #boywholivednotdied #alynnastrong #potato_writes #WIP wishlist

[dontbipanicjonsa]

Hey! I read your recent meta on lightning and starklings. It's actually pretty good. One thing got my attention is "An axe gleamed silvery blue, light shimmered off mail and plate, and beneath the dark hood of the lead rider Brienne glimpsed an iron snout and rows of steel teeth, snarling- Brienne." The axe and armour was gleaming silver blue. It reminds me of this "Brienne’s sword took flame as well, burning silvery blue-Jaime". Do you think it has some connection?

Hey! Sorry it took me so long to answer this. I got carried away and now this post is ridiculously long.

First, I'm not sure if the armour is also shining silvery-blue? It's not specified at least so I'm going to go with no...

Besides that, yes, I do think these two are related. I think these silvery-blue weapons are meant to represent a few different things. Broadly, their appearance is a red-herring- they looks shiny but they're actually pretty useless (or straight up bad).

They appear in the hands of four people through the series. First they appear in Jaime's dream, in the hands of both Jaime and Brienne-

"I gave you a sword," Lord Tywin said.

It was at his feet. Jaime groped under the water until his hand closed upon the hilt. Nothing can hurt me so long as I have a sword. As he raised the sword a finger of pale flame flickered at the point and crept up along the edge, stopping a hand's breath from the hilt. The fire took on the color of the steel itself so it burned with a silvery-blue light, and the gloom pulled back. Crouching, listening, Jaime moved in a circle, ready for anything that might come out of the darkness.

(...)

The steel links parted like silk. "A sword," Brienne begged, and there it was, scabbard, belt, and all. She buckled it around her thick waist. The light was so dim that Jaime could scarcely see her, though they stood a scant few feet apart. In this light she could almost be a beauty, he thought. In this light she could almost be a knight. Brienne's sword took flame as well, burning silvery blue. The darkness retreated a little more.

"The flames will burn so long as you live," he heard Cersei call. "When they die, so must you." - Jaime VI ASOS

Jaime receives his sword from Tywin, and Brienne receives hers from Jaime (like Widow's Wail and Oathkeeper?) And then-

Prince Rhaegar burned with a cold light, now white, now red, now dark. "I left my wife and children in your hands."

"I never thought he'd hurt them." Jaime's sword was burning less brightly now. "I was with the king . . ."

X

"The king you had sworn to die for," said the White Bull.

The fires that ran along the blade were guttering out, and Jaime remembered what Cersei had said. No. Terror closed a hand about his throat. Then his sword went dark, and only Brienne's burned, as the ghosts came rushing in.

His light goes out, but Brienne's keeps glowing until he wakes up. If we just look at the dream in isolation, the glowing sword seems to represent knighthood, in a way- true knighthood. Jaime failed to live up to those ideals in KL, not because he killed Aerys, but because he failed to protect Rhaella, Elia, Aegon and Rhaenys. The moment Aerys died, I imagine he also lost his belief in true knighthood. However, Brienne is meant to succeed where he failed, she is meant to be better than him, to learn from him and surpass him- and her silvery blue sword sure surpasses his.

However, this is a dream. This is Jaime's dream glowing silver-blue sword. It seems powerful and good to him, but even within the dream Jaime is wrong about some things. He believes that nothing can hurt him if he has a sword, but that's not true. He very much can be hurt even with a sword in hand. So it's possible that this interpretation of the silvery-blue weapon is wrong as well. Let's look at who actually wields these weapons-

Lightning cracked to the south as the riders swung down off their horses. For half a heartbeat darkness turned to day. An axe gleamed silvery blue, light shimmered off mail and plate, and beneath the dark hood of the lead rider Brienne glimpsed an iron snout and rows of steel teeth, snarling. - Brienne VII AFFC

First we have Rorge, wearing the Hound's helm. Now, the Hound was never technically knighted, but he was a Kingsguard. We can call him a sort-of-knight. So in a way, this fight is knight-on-knight violence.

Send a knight to slay a knight and an archer to kill an archer, the smallfolk often say.

Rorge dies without doing any major damage to Brienne, but her momentary triumph leaves her open to get fucked up by the Biter.

"Sapphires," she whispered at him, as she gave her blade a hard twist that made him shudder. His weight sagged heavily against her, and all at once it was a corpse that she embraced, there in the black rain. She stepped back and let him fall . . .

. . . and Biter crashed into her, shrieking.

The axe is a flashy red herring. But why??? If the silvery-blue weapon is supposed to represent true knighthood...then why was Rorge the one wielding it? What does it mean that Brienne slayed him?

One answer is that this is a sort of commentary- Jaime's dream silvery-blue sword is a guiding light, a representation of true knighthood that gets snuffed out along with his belief in justice...but in real life, these weapons are wielded to commit injustice. They are wielded exclusively for the wrong purposes- once by a false knight twice over, and once by an assassin in training-

It took her three more days of watching before she found the way, and another day of practicing with her finger knife. Red Roggo had taught her how to use it, but she had not slit a purse since back before they took away her eyes. She wanted to make certain that she still knew how. Smooth and quick, that's the way, no fumbling, she told herself, and she slipped the little blade out of her sleeve, again and again and again. When she was satisfied that she still remembered how to do it, she sharpened the steel on a whetstone until its edge glimmered silver-blue in the candlelight. The other part was trickier, but the waif was there to help her. "I will give the man the gift on the morrow," she announced as she was breaking her fast. - The Ugly Little Girl ADWD

This entire chapter is about Ar.ya assassinating her target. She spends some days watching him and learns that he always bites the coins he receives in payment from his customers. So she uses this knife to cut the purse of a customer and slip in a poisoned coin...which the target eventually bites. And then he dies. The knife is a red herring, once again.

Twice, the weapon has been used in the series, and both times for the wrong purposes, and both times it's the red herring that gives way to the real weapon/danger- Biter, and the poisoned coin.

So, till now we have established that-

Jaime's dream swords represent his idea of true knighthood

The reality of such weapons suggests pretty much the opposite

Maybe the moral is that we shouldn't glorify violence, or use it as a guiding light. Idk. The interesting part is, these three chapters have many parallels-

Bargaining

The news irritated him, though he supposed he should have seen it coming. The lie spared you awhile, wench. Be grateful for that much (...) Brienne was tough enough to survive a few rapes, Jaime judged, though if she resisted too vigorously Vargo Hoat might start lopping off her hands and feet. And if he does, why should I care? I might still have a hand if she had let me have my cousin's sword without getting stupid. He had almost taken off her leg himself with that first stroke of his, but after that she had given him more than he wanted. Hoat may not know how freakish strong she is. He had best be careful, or she'll snap that skinny neck of his, and wouldn't that be sweet?

The 'news' is that Vargo Hoat has refused to trade Brienne for the ransom offered by her father (he wants more).

Farther on the trees began to thin, though not the corpses (...) These were evil men, Brienne reminded herself, yet the sight still made her sad. She forced herself to look at every man in turn, searching for familiar faces.

The corpses are of the men who raided Saltpans, hung by Lady Stoneheart.

He has no courtesy, she thought, watching him go. His face is hard and mean.

X

"He is an evil man," she announced that evening when she returned to the House of Black and White. "His lips are cruel, his eyes are mean, and he has a villain's beard."

X

"He moves his hands too much," she told them at the temple. "He must be full of fear. The gift will bring him peace."

Ar.ya doesn't know this man she's supposed to kill, but she tries desperately to justify killing him.

Overall, these chapters revolve around the characters considering certain questions- specifically, who deserves to die? Who deserves to live? Who deserves to be saved? And who gets to choose these things? They all wrestle with these questions, but by the end they must give an answer. Jaime's answer is that Brienne does not deserve to die, and so he saves her. Brienne ends her chapter by killing Rorge (and Biter maybe?)- who had also raided Saltpans, just like the corpses she saw in the beginning. Ar.ya struggles to find reasons to justify her murder, but in the end she goes through with it anyway.

Going underground

They gave no answer, only prodded him with the points of their spears. He had no choice but to descend. Down a twisting passageway he went, narrow steps carved from the living rock, down and down. I must go up, he told himself. Up, not down. Why am I going down? Below the earth his doom awaited, he knew with the certainty of dream; something dark and terrible lurked there, something that wanted him. Jaime tried to halt, but their spears prodded him on. If only I had my sword, nothing could harm me.

(This is seriously making me believe Jaime and Cersei WILL die under Casterly Rock.)

This stair was unknown to her, however, and that made it perilous. One-and-twenty two-and-twenty three-and-twenty. With every step the air seemed to grow a little colder. When her count reached thirty she knew that they were under even the canals. Three-and-thirty four-and-thirty. How deep were they going to go?

Ar.ya and Jaime go deep underground- Jaime dreams of being in the mines of Casterly Rock and Ar.ya gets to change her face (and see the room with all the faces ew). That is probably meant to show that both CR and the House of Black and White are toxic places for Jaime and Ar.ya. Also that Jaime had been set on a dark path a loong time ago, and Ar.ya is 'descending into darkness' at Braavos. Jaime ends his chapter actually making the right choice- saving; Ar.ya ends her chapter making the wrong choice- killing (not blaming her or anything, just from a moral standpoint assassination is wrong.)

Being still as stone

I am carved of stone, she reminded herself. I am a statue, like the Sealords that stand along the Canal of the Heroes.

X

Still as stone, she thought. She sat unmoving.

Ar.ya is still as stone, and so is Brienne.

Brienne stayed as still as stone, waiting.

It's interesting how Ar.ya has parallels with both Jaime and Brienne in these chapters. The silvery-blue weapons that initially seemed to symbolise knighthood are actually a part of a bigger conversation about justice, and Ar.ya is toeing the line.

Getting into a fight where the odds were not in their favour.

All three of them face 'opponents' that would likely fuck them up, and they all respond in different ways.

Jaime has to decide how to rescue Brienne from that bear pit, and he decides to jump in.

"You want her? Go get her."

So he did.

He put his good hand on the marble rail and vaulted over, rolling as he hit the sand.

Swoon. Such a white knight. Except that we find out later that he was actually counting on his men (as in, Bolton men who had been escorting him to KL) to keep him safe. Yanno, to avoid being fucked up by Tywin/Roose. Which is SUCH a Lannister thing to do.

"But I hoped you'd kill the beast before the beast killed me. Elsewise, Lord Bolton would have peeled you like an orange, no?"

For Brienne, this is a defining, absolutely iconic moment as a knight-

Seven, Brienne thought again, despairing. She had no chance against seven, she knew. No chance, and no choice.

For Ar.ya- she's not supposed to get into a 'fight' at all, but avoid it... while still carrying out an assassination.

"And the other guard?"

"He's slow and stupid. I can kill him too."

"Are you some butcher of the battlefield, hacking down every man who stands in your way?"

I've already described what she finally does. Very clever, very assassin-y.

And that's the point, I think. Jaime is a Lannister, Brienne is a knight, and Ar.ya is an assassin. The silver-blue weapon appears, and these characters reveal themselves to us, the readers.

In conclusion-

The silver-blue weapon is used to connect Ar.ya to Jaime and Brienne when all three are considering important questions of justice, moral responsibility, etc.

The weapon by itself is never particularly effective in causing violence. Instead, it is often a red herring signaling real incoming danger.

Finally, we can't talk about glowy swords without mentioning the ultimate glowy sword- Lightbringer. The way those shiny swords appear to be in Jaime's dream is actually pretty close to how much of the fandom perceives Lightbringer- a beacon in the dark, blah blah. That's the dream, but reality makes that dream ring hollow. Which I think is the point- a weapon shouldn't be a beacon. It shouldn't be glorified.

Not to mention, these glowy weapons are totally useless. Rorge's axe gives Brienne like one cut max, Ar.ya uses her knife to pickpocket, and we've all seen Stannis's sword. Maybe the point isn't that these swords are fake Lightbringers, but that such a dream weapon doesn't actually exist (and if it does, it's hella destructive 👀)

Thanks for the ask! :)

#now how to tag this #it's not really anti anyone #but I'll tag anti anyway #anti jaime lannister #nvm that i am a terrible jaime apologist in my head #anti arya stark #what is objectivity anyway #brienne of tarth #silvery blue weapons meta

[kyloren]

i was never really into the jonsa ship, but that post of yours has got me really interested... do you have any fave fics of them??

welp, we’re going old-school, lads. prepare for some of my favourite fandom throwbacks well, I failed at that, I put some of the newer things on the list, too

CANON-VERSE:

Now You See Me: Kissed by fire, Ygritte thought to herself, just like me. 

Goodbye Means Going Away (And Going Away Means Forgetting): Memory is unreliable. No one understands this better than Rickon Stark.

Take My Crown Away (Don’t Smile So Sweetly, My Love): A world where everything is easier. Except for those who love, and love too much.

Build a Ladder to the Stars: Jon abandons the Night’s Watch to join Robb’s cause. After rescuing Sansa from King’s Landing, he and Sansa find themselves in a relationship they never saw coming.

A Winter’s Tale: The War of Three Dragons comes to the Vale, bringing Jon Snow and Sansa Stark together once more.

The Winter of Our Discontent: In the end it is Jon and his men of the Night’s Watch who come to take her back to Winterfell.

tell me true (who are you): Ned Stark brought a dark-haired, grey-eyed bastard babe home and called him son. Years later, Jon Targaryen does the same.

Lift Me Like an Olive Branch and Be My Homeward Dove: She never dreams of Jon Snow but in the end he is the one that comes for her under a Targaryen banner, the might of Winterfell and the North behind him with their father’s sword on his back.

The Whispering Ghosts (Left You Out In The Cold): Winter came and brought Jon home. [this is the first Jonsa fic I ever read, boy, did it fuck me up]

A Bronze Crown: In the end there are no knights. In the end Sansa must rescue herself. Based on the prompt: he doesn’t ride to her rescue; she comes north with her granduncle and the armies of the Vale to wage war on the Boltons, save his life and teach his assassins and the Boltons a sharp lesson.

how ruthless are the gentle*: “Yes, I do.” The easiest lie he’s ever told, by far. It came so naturally, he hardly thought of it as false. “She’s easy to love.”

Tell the Ones That Need to Know (We Are Headed North)*: After years of confinement in the Red Keep with Ned prisoner in the black cells, the Dragon Queen comes. With the knowledge that Jon Snow is actually a Targaryen, she agrees to let the Starks return to Winterfell only if Jon marries one of the Stark daughters. Sansa volunteers so they can all go home. Soon she figures out being married to Jon isn’t bad, but it is complicated.

Cripples, Bastards and Broken Things*: We know no King, but the King in the North whose name is Stark. 

Dragons of Red, Dragons of White*: An AU where the Battle of the Trident took place, but just between Rhaegar Targaryen and Robert Baratheon. Their duel and its outcome have ramifications that none could foresee. In the world built afterwards, dragons once again rule and roam Westeros, among them the son of a northern beauty and the king. Prince Jon and his kin, Stark and Targaryen alike, face new challenges from both without and within. Whatever the future holds, the Seven Kingdoms will learn that, whether in a coat of red or a coat of white, a dragon still has claws.

A Knight’s Watch: Jon Snow is forbidden to take the black by his father. Instead he sent to squire for a famous knight, beginning a long arduous journey that causes him to cross paths with characters he never would have. Along the way he learns truths long hidden and discovers love in the most unlikely of places.

The Conquest*: Three hundred years after Aegon the Conqueror built a new empire on the ashes of the Valyrian Freehold the known world is a place of war. The Targaryen Empire is pressed by enemies, the Seven Kingdoms war amongst themselves and forces contrive to pull them all apart.

Live Without Shame: When Catelyn’s treatment of Winterfell’s Bastard unexpectedly softens, Sansa reconsiders her relationship with Jon. But despite the revelations that ensue, Jon must and will always remain Winterfell’s Bastard and suffer its consequences.

The Tempered Kingdoms*:  After years of wars, death, destruction, politics, and White Walkers, a tentative calm has returned to Westeros partially due to the rulership of King Jon and Queen Daenerys. But politics rues its head again as Stannis Baratheon demands his right to rule, while the former Queen Cersei languishes in a cell, plotting her revenge against all who live above her. Sansa Stark is forced to return to King’s Landing after being found by the rumored lovers Jaime Lannister and Brienne of Tarth.

winterbloom: “You’ve traveled a long way for a rumor.” Sansa lives at the Wall under the protection of her brother Jon Snow, but when Sandor Clegane comes looking for her, she and Jon begin to realize that she is not as safe as they once hoped.

As History Changes: Jon agrees to accompany Stannis south to the Vale and he meets a person he did not expect to meet.

hold onto your heart (you’ll keep it safe): When Sansa turns eleven her wrist burns. She excitedly unwraps the cloth guarding her skin, waiting eagerly for the name to finish forming. The dark letters stop after only three and when Sansa leans in closer she realises that she knows that name and she knows that handwriting already.

carve your heart into mine: Sansa spent many evenings sewing her wedding dress by the fire, dreaming of her husband. The gown spilled out of her hands like a silver river, burning brighter from the light of the flames. She had embroidered it with a noble husband in mind, but she wed her lowborn love in the godswood, with snowflakes falling on her veil. 

ALTERNATIVE UNIVERSE:

Into the Darkness of the Grave: The tragic death of Eddard Stark’s cousin Lyanna brings her estranged son back to Winterfell House, the family’s old plantation home, for her funeral.

The Other Shoe: If anyone had told Sansa Stark that she would be married to Jon Snow, expecting a child with him at the age of nineteen she would have laughed at them. Not because Jon was a bad person, for he had slowly come out of his shell in the past seven years; not because she was young, her parents were married right out of Hogwarts; simply because Sansa Stark seemed to be the anthesis of a happy ending.

several sunlit days: Everyone knows you don’t date Robb Stark’s sisters unless you want to spend your days avoiding hexes and angry bludgers shot at your head. Too bad Jon’s traitorous feelings could care less.

the unexpected champion: Jon must swim to The Black Lake and retrieve something *cough* Sansa *cough* stolen from him. This task makes him realize who he should invite to the Yule Ball.

Where Did You Sleep Last Night: Sansa needs a new guitarist, Jon needs a new band, and the two of them definitely don’t need each other.

and labor till the work is done: Stark Industries is a family legacy she was hoping to avoid: Robb is a project manager, grooming to eventually be a partner, Arya is a summer intern with Bran sure to follow next year and Rickon in another three, and even Jon Snow, who is technically not family but who has been around for as long as Sansa can remember, works as an estimator. But Sansa is not who she was at sixteen or eighteen or even twenty and she’s still in the process of learning what’s truly important, like who she is, who she wants to be, and what kind of people she wants in her life.

One Of The Few Things: Jaime and Sansa spend a lot of time pining over Brienne and Jon together. Sometimes, they actually even do their jobs.

flower shaped heart*: Alayne Stone has lived her whole life in her hidden tower, forbidden by Mother to leave. But she yearns for an adventure like the ones in the songs, so when a man named Jon Snow crashes into her tower and into her life, she seizes the chance. They travel to King’s Landing where the floating lanterns shine each year on her nameday. The new world is exciting and frightening, but Jon Snow is there to guide her every step. He is not nearly as terrible as Mother said men are, though the rest of the world might be. Danger, betrayals, and lies form the steps of their journey as Alayne uncovers terrible secrets.

Crawl up to my Room: Jon left her side after a few moments of silence and she watched him leave with a quiet thought playing in her mind. He was her stepbrother for only a few hours, and she already found herself utterly fascinated and irritated with Jon Stark. 

in the summer, as the lilacs bloom: “You did tech in high school,” Sansa points out. (Yeah, I did tech because you were playing the lead and I was in love with you.) Jon doesn’t tell her that, though. Of course not. Instead he agrees to spend his summer stage managing this passion project of hers, and some trace of his seventeen-year-old self has dried out his throat at the thought of three months’ constant contact with Sansa.

Down from the Mountain: Sansa flies home from college after her older brother Robb, one of the country’s hottest young pitchers, is hurt in a car accident. Robb’s best friend Jon is there to help the Stark family in any way he can.

Little Bed in the Big Woods: “I stared at him for a solid five minutes because he looked like what I imagine god would look like if god was a lumberjack.”

A Game of Stars*: When the Mad Emperor hears that the Starks are Force-sensitive, he discovers the hidden rebel base on Hoth. He sends Jon there with one order: Burn them all. But bring the Stark children to Coruscant. It’s time for the two most powerful Force bloodlines in the galaxy to merge.

I’ll Pack My Goods for the Arkansas Woods*: When Sansa’s brother goes missing, it falls to her to defend the house and the woods against the greed of the Boltons and Freys. All of this would be much easier if she could fight fire with fire, and there’s a saying in the valley: that all the Starks are a little wild, and all the Targaryens are a little mad. Her cousin Jon just happens to be both.

In the Face of Death: On a long list of things Jon never expected, Sansa came top.

United States of Irreversible Oblivion: With the government losing its fight at the northern border, Sansa’s only hope is that one of its soldiers, Office Jon Snow, will return for her and save her from the horrors of a collapsing society.

remember me love when i’m reborn: ‘Longest Night’ has biggest night in hollywood history. “Joffrey wanted someone to make him famous, and as soon as Sansa wrote a movie for him that did just that, he left her in the dirt.”

Hear the Wolf*: The Starks are in Hogwarts. Sansa has to learn to stand up to her ex-boyfriend and Jon has to learn to face his past. They’re determined to do it alone. Will they ever admit they’re stronger together?

Somewhere in the Winter Woods*: Lost on her way to her grandmother’s cabin in the winter woods after running away from home, beautiful young Sansa thinks she’s run into trouble when she crosses a white wolf in the forest. Instead of harming her, the animal guides her to his master, a handsome warrior named Jon who lives in solitude and clothes himself in black.

* marks the ongoing stories. 

#jonsa #jonsa fanfiction #jon x sansa #sansa stark #jon snow #game of thrones #* #anonymous #ask box #in this tag resides fanfiction

[ms-rampage]

Eden’s Gate: Aftermath Chapter 6 - The Man Who Sold The World

Warnings: Swearing, slight violence, some Kate and Wheaty cutensss, usage of drugs (Bliss)

Word count: 4.3k

Summary: In the penultimate chapter, Paige, Kate and Mandy finally meet face to face with Joseph Seed, but there will be bloodshed, and maybe a few sacrifices the family will have to make. 

Guest OCs: Just the usuals. 

Guest Characters: Archangel Raphael [Supernatural: mentioned], God/Chuck [mentioned], An Archangel? [read until the end]

Note: One more chapter!!! Then New Dawn begins.

*****

Another few weeks have passed, October is here and that means Fall in Montana is beautiful. The fallen leaves, the crispy cool breezes, orange, red and yellow leaves. Fall colors.

Pumpkins, hot chocolate, sweater season, blood shed, violence, and crazy fucking Cultists. 

The Winchester-Smith compound has never looked more alive. The trees on the property with their orange, and yellow leaves.

The threatening words of graffiti on the gates of the compound. Sinner. The Father. The Power of Yes. 

John Seed’s followers tried to retaliate, and avenged his death, but the Winchester family is always 10 steps ahead of them.

7:00 am. A letter arrived at their front door for the 3 females of the Winchester family that morning. From the man whom they’ve been looking for, The Father Joseph Seed himself.

Telling them to go to his church at 5:30 that evening. He didn’t say for what, or why, but they weren’t gonna let this opportunity slip.

“It’s clearly a trap” Kenny tells his wife.

“What if it isn’t?” she asks.

“Why would Joseph send you a letter telling you to go to his church?!?” Nate asks, as he pours coffee in a cup.

“I don’t know, but we’re going” Kate says.

“You two are pregnant!!” Kenny exclaims, “You aren’t going”.

“Okay! Then who else is gonna take our place?” Paige asks.

“I’ll take your place, Mandy and one of the guys can go” he replies. 

“Joseph asked us, and us only to go. We aren’t risking you two going, and probably getting killed” Kate tells him.

“What if he kills you guys?!” Mark asks.

“Remember the letter he left us? When we killed his brothers? He said that we were forgiven for all the shit we’ve done” Paige informs them.

“He could be lying!” Mark adds in.

“Joseph is telling the truth” Mandy steps in. 

They all turn around to face her, “How do you know?!?” Kenny asks.

“I spent 6 months with him. I can tell if he’s lying or not. Writing or speaking I can tell” she says.

Paige looks down at the letter, “So what do we do?!?”.

Mandy takes a deep breath, “When 5:30 comes we leave for church. Whatever happens, happens. This is where it all ends”.

They all stare at her in anticipation.

“I just got the chills when you said that” Mark mutters.

“Yeah for real” Adrian says, looking at her like she just gave him life changing news.

****

A few hours later. 

10:00 am, everyone had just eaten breakfast, Paige is feeding Cristina 2nd her morning bottle.

Kate just threw up, morning sickness and she hates it. 

She called Wheaty, and they’re gonna hang that afternoon. Not telling him about the letter from Joseph to meet at his church.

Kenny, Mark, Nate, Cody, Marty, Adrian and a few others finished putting up one of the 2 houses. Rachel is having a panic attack, knowing that Joseph knows she’s living with the Winchesters. Mandy sitting in her room, blinded by her thoughts. Wondering why Joseph wants the 3 of them to go to his church.

What could he possibly want?. What is the meaning, or purpose of this?. Is he gonna kill them? Does he want to make peace with them?. Is he gonna surrender himself? What is he gonna do?.

Paige is sitting on the front porch swing, holding Cristina while “Fade to Black” by Metallica plays on her bluetooth speaker. Humming along with the song, with Cristina falling asleep in her arms.

****

2 hours have gone by, 12:00pm.

“Things not what they used to be. Missing one inside of me. Deathly loss l, this can't be real. I cannot stand this hell I feel. Emptiness is filling me. To the point of agony. Growing darkness taking dawn. I was me, but now he's gone.”

Kenny steps outside, and sees this. A huge smile grows on his face. He takes a seat next to Paige on the swing, putting his arm around her. She leans closer to him, resting her head on his shoulder. He places a kiss on her head, rests his cheek on her head. 

Lightly swing back and forth on the swing. Little moments like this they love. They don’t need to go out to fancy restaurants every weekend, or a weekend get away for the both of them. 

Cristina falls asleep in her mothers arms, letting out soft nasal snores, making Kenny snickers at this.

“You know I still don’t like the plan” he tells her. 

“I know you don’t” she responds. They sit in silence for a moment.

“If you could guess what Joseph wants. What would you guess?” he asks.

She sighs, “I don’t know. Maybe make peace with us, or make some sort of treaty between everyone in Hope County”.

“Your mom seems to know a lot about Joseph. Like how he thinks, or what possibly goes through his head.” he tells her.

“Yeah, my mom is really good at reading people, even if she’s not trying to. It’s like a power she has. Growing up I couldn’t even lie to her, and I’m really good at lying, but she knew. She always knew. Kate takes a lot after her, they both try to see the good in people even if they don’t deserve it. I take after my dad, he didn’t trust anyone outside the family. Like if he was still alive, and all this shit that happened, like Rachel turning on the Project, he wouldn't trust her either. Even if she had a change of heart, he wouldn’t trust her at all”.

Kenny zones out as she’s talking, still being able to hear every word she says. He places his hand on her 9 in half weeks pregnant belly. 

“You think your dad would’ve liked me?” he asks, looking up at the sky.

Paige looks up at him, looking into his blue orbs and smiles “If he knew I trusted you, then he would’ve trusted you as well”.

He looks down at her, and kisses her forehead. 

Paige sighs, “My mom-” she says before getting cut off by a soft “mom” from the infant in her arms.

Her and Kenny look at each other wide eyed, then down at Cristina who is half asleep.

She picks her up, having her stand on her lap.

“Say that again” she tells the 11 month old in her hands, “Say mom”.

“Say mama” she tells her again, “Say mama”.

“Say dadda” he jumps in.

Paige glares at him, “This is my moment”.

“Say mama” she tells her again slowly.

“Mama” Cristina mutters her first word, very softly that it sounds like a mumble.

Paige gasps loudly, her eyes widened “She just- she. She said mama. She said her first word!!!”. She gets up from the swing, and goes inside the house.

“Mom!!!” she calls out as she goes inside.

*****

Kate went on her date with Wheaty. She wanted to go hunting, but since she’s 7 in half weeks pregnant, they changed their date plans. They decided to go to the camping spot where they first met a few years back.

“It looks the same” she jokes.

“Camping spots usually never change” he replies. They sit near the water, on some boulders. 

“So how’s the pregnancy?” he asks.

She looks down at her belly, chuckling “I threw up this morning. I’m peeing a lot but my mom and sister said that's normal, other than that it’s going pretty good”. 

“Thought of any names?” he asks, putting his arm around her. 

She thinks about it for a brief moment, “If it’s a boy his name would be either Gabriel Joel Eddard, or Samuel Dean Rhaegar. For a girl Daenerys Arya Brienne, or Lyanna Pamela Cersei”.

“What is up with you and these Game of Thrones names?!” he laughs, kissing the side of her head. 

“They’re nice names!. It’ll give them character, plus Pamela isn’t a name from Game of Thrones, and neither is Samuel, Dean, Gabriel and Joel” she laughs. 

“Don’t be surprised if little Daenerys asks for a dragon, or 3 for her birthday, or an Iron Throne” he jokes. 

“And if she does I’ll be very happy about it, and I’ll get her a stuffed dragon. One of those giant plush ones that are like 5-6 feet tall”.

They talked, they laughed, they made out. They enjoyed their time together, holding her in his arms as they watched the lake. Watching the boats, and jet skies go by.

Even the subject of marriage and kids came up on their date. Even though they've started dating back in August but have known each other over 2 years. 

She starts reminiscing back when they first met. She still remembers that night very clearly. She still has the photos. 

"I still remember that day when we first met" she tells him.

A smile appears on his face, "Yeah me too". 

"I never had a crush on anyone until I met you" he tells her. She looks up at him. 

"Really?" she asks. He nods his head, she moves closer into his arms. Enjoying every single moment of it. 

Kate knows this might be the last time her and Wheaty ever hang out again. Their last date together, and they don’t know it.

Resting her head against his shoulder as they sit by the lake. His arms wrapped around her. 

"Also I wanted to give you this" he says, getting something out of his pants pocket. He pulls out a bracelet, similar to the ones he wears and puts it on her wrist. She smiles as he puts it on her, holding her hand in his. She looks up at him, and kisses him.

***

4:15 pm Kate is still on her date with Wheaty. Her sister and mother prepare themselves as they wait for her.

“Where is she?!” Paige asks, getting annoyed.

“We still have a whole hour” Mandy tells her, “She’ll be back. Soon hopefully”.

15 minutes later Kate pulls into the driveway. 

She enters the house, “It’s about time you show up” Paige tells her.

“Well sorry!” she responds sarcastically, “I had a date with Wheaty, and I wanted to see him before we’re killed!”.

“We’re not gonna get killed” Mandy steps in, “Because we’re not going”.

They all look over at her in confusion. Mandy was having 2nd thoughts about confronting Joseph, and she made the decision not to go to the church.

“What do you mean we’re not going?!?” Paige questions her, “You literally said a few seconds ago that we’re going. Implied it”.

“We’re not going. We’re not gonna give Joseph what he wants” she tells them. 

“Mom?!” Kate mutters in disbelief and confusion.

Paige scoffs, shaking her head “Mom, this is our only chance. To get rid of Joseph. Put an end to the Cult, and kill whoever is left”.  

Everyone, Paige, Kate, Kenny, Adrian, Martin, Cody, Mark, Nate, Barbara, Rachel, and everyone else in the house look at Mandy. About 30, plus, eyes staring back at her. 

“We’re not going” she tells them, “I don’t care what Joseph wants. We’re not going”.

Paige, scoffs at her mother, “Why?. Why the change of heart all of a sudden?!?”.

Mandy glares at her eldest child, and says “You wouldn’t understand”.

Kate stops her older sister from doing or saying anything else to their mom. 

She still plans to go and confront Joseph. All the damage, pain. suffering and bloodshed he had caused. It’ll all end that evening, nothing will stop Paige from ending The Father. 

5:20 rolls around, Kate and Mandy have no intentions of leaving for church. 

The youngest Winchester thinks they should go.

“Mom?” she asks.

“We’re not going Katella” she says, not looking up at her youngest daughter. 

Paige comes downstairs, and is immediately out the door, and goes to the Impala. 

“Paige?!?” Kate exclaims, going after her. Too late she’s already driving like a maniac off of the property. Leaving behind a cloud of dirt.

“Son of bitch!!” she mutters, “She’s going after Joseph”.

They grab the keys to the Monte Carlo, and drive after Paige who is probably already at the church.

**** 

Church of Eden’s Gate

Paige enters the compound, breaking down the front gate with the car. She stops the car, exits it. Pistol ready in her holster. A few peggies on the property staring at her. She ignores them, she’s there for Joseph. She’ll handle the hillbillies later.

“Joseph!!!” she shouts his name, echoing in the sky “Joseph!!!”. 

Approaching the church, the man himself Joseph Seed steps out. She stares at him intensely. He looks up at the sky, closes his eyes and says, “And the lamb broke the 5th seal, and I saw under the altar the souls of Martyrs. Slain because of the Word of God”.

Pointing to Paige, “You. You turned my sister. You poisoned her mind with your wretched words”.

She pulls her pistol out of its holster and aims at him, “I didn’t change her. She finally saw your monstrous ways. She changed on her own”.

“Lies” he hisses, “Your disgusting words against God, and his word”. 

She turns off the safety on her pistol, “Give me one good reason why I shouldn’t kill you right here. Right now”. Her voice filled with anger, and violent intentions. 

He walks around her, she follows his movements. Gun still aimed at him. 

“I told you. Your mother. I told you that we were living in a world on the brink. Where every slight. Every injustice. Where every choice reveals our sins”.

Paige narrows her eyes at him, her pistol still aimed at him, not lowering it once. 

“And where have those sins led us?, Where have those sins led you?”. 

The sound of tires screeching, breaks Paige’s concentration, she turns her head and sees her sister's car drive on the property.

Kate and Mandy get out. “Paige don’t!!!” Mandy exclaims, running towards her. 

She turns back to Joseph, and aims her gun at him again. 

“Paige what are you doing?!?!” Kate exclaims.

“What does it look like I’m doing??!” she replies sarcastically, “I’m ending it all”. 

Joseph stares at Mandy, “Paige, you can’t do this” she pleads.

“Uhh, sure I can” she replies back. Rolling her eyes. 

Mandy gets in between the gun and Joseph. “No, I mean you can’t kill him”.

Lowering her gun, glaring at her mother, “What are you talking about?!?”.

Before she could explain herself, Joseph speaks up. 

“Mandeline”, his voice so calm that it sends shivers up her spine. Giving her goosebumps. 

She closes her eyes, sadness and shame written all over her face. She turns to face him. Her eyes meeting his. He stares at her with so much intensity that you can almost feel the anger radiating off of him, and the fear radiating off of her. 

“You betrayed me, my family, my flock, and God. You dare to show yourself to me” he tells her, slowly approaching her. 

“Joseph, I’m sorry, but I had no choice. I couldn’t stand by and watch everything happen” she explains to him.

He points at her, “You turn my family into Martyrs. And I plan to do the same with yours”. He walks around them, and they see their friends Mary May, Nick Rye, Pastor Jerome, Grace Armstrong, Jess Black, Tracey Lader, Wheaty, and Tammy Barnes all under the influence of Bliss holding Kenny, Mark and Nate hostage. 

“Wheaty!!!!” Kate cries out, seeing her boyfriend drugged up with Bliss.

“Kenny?!?” Paige says under her breath, “How the fuck did you get to them!?!?!”. 

“Joseph let them go!!!!” Mandy yells.

He turns to her, and says, “Your friends, and family have been taken and torture, and it’s your fault. Countless people have been killed, and it is your fault. The world is on fire, and it’s your fault. Was it worth it?. Was it?”.

“You motherfucker” Paige mutters angrily, “Me killing you will fucking worth it, and I can promise you that”. 

The followers on the property gather behind the 3 Winchesters, blocking them from escaping. 

“Kenny what happened?!? Was it Rachel?!?” Paige asks.

“No!” he mutters. 

“The others are fine. They got us, Rachel took off when they showed up” Nate wheezes. 

“Paige?” Mandy mutters softly.

“Not now” she responds, “Joseph I swear you better-”

“Paige!” she yells, breaking her attention from him. 

“Mom!. Now's not the time” she tells her.

“You can’t kill him” she tells her almost in a whisper.

She looks at her, eyes furrow, “Yeah I can, he has our friends and family hostage!!”.

Mandy looks back at Joseph then back at Paige, “No I mean you can’t kill him”.

“What do you mean I can’t-” She stands in front of her once again, blocking the bullet from hitting Joseph.

“Raphael” she mutters, interrupting her. 

“Raphael?!?” Kate whispers, “The Archangel?!?”.

She nods her head, “Yes, I was told by Archangel Raphael that Joseph had to be protected, and I was the one to do it. That’s why you can’t kill him.”

Kate and Paige look at their mother in disbelief, and confusion.

“Because Chuck spoke to him” she whispers to them, “About the end. You can’t kill him because if you do everything, everyone will die. Cease to exist. The end of life as we know it”. They both glare at her with mixed emotions. 

“You knew this whole time?!?” Paige yells, “This whole time!!. If Joseph gets killed, hurt and harmed in any way. Chuck will drop a bomb on all of humanity?!?”.

“Why didn’t you tell us?!?!” Kate asks, betrayal in her voice.

“I couldn’t say anything. Raphael forbidden me from saying anything to anyone!!” she says.

Paige lowers her pistol, putting it back in her holster.

Shaking her head, “I can’t believe you. He could be playing him for all we know” she tells her.

“Let them go” she orders Joseph, pointing to Kenny, Mark and Nate. 

Joseph stares at her, “Are you deaf?!? I said let them go!!!” she orders him again.

Mandy holds her back, “Let me handle this”.

She turns to face Joseph, and pleads with him “Joseph please, let them go. We don’t want anymore bloodshed. Please let them go, and we’ll leave”.

“Wheaty too!” Kate shouts.

“You betrayed me. Betrayed God. I forgive you for what you’ve done to my family, but that I can’t forgive” he tells her, stepping close to her, “Your family will pay for what you have done”. 

The few followers grab Paige and Kate shoving them onto the ground, taking their guns and other weapons away.

“Don’t fucking touch me!!” Paige yells, struggling.

“Get off me!!” Kate shouts, fighting to be let go. 

“Joseph, it’s not their fault!!. It’s mine. Let them go, and you can deal with me” she pleads with him again.

He grabs her shoulders, “This is where it ends” he whispers to her. Tears stream down her face. 

“You peggie fuckers!!. Pieces of fucking shit!!” Paige mutters as a peggie pushes her face first into the ground. 

“Get the fuck off of her!!” Kenny yells at him.

Tears streaming down Mandy’s cheeks, if only she was honest with her family. If only she had told them the truth. All of this wouldn't have happened. Her family was gonna be killed because of her. Her own greed. 

“When are you gonna realize that every problem cannot be solved with a bullet?” he asks her. 

“It doesn’t have to end this way” she pleads with him. 

Two of his followers, grab her. Preventing her from stopping whatevers gonna happen. 

One of his Chosen has a sharp knife in hand. Almost like a miniature machete, holding it in front of her eldest child. 

“Really Joseph? You’re gonna kill two pregnant women!” Paige yells. Grabbing the Father’s attention.

He stops them, having Paige’s full attention. He looks at her with a questioning look on his face. 

“Yeah” she says, a smug look on her face “I’m pregnant. So is my sister. She’s carrying your little brother's kid. John”. 

He looks over at the youngest sister, and she nods her head. “It’s John’s kid, Joseph. You kill us, you kill your nephew/niece, but keep in mind we’ll never be family”. 

He looks up at the sky, backing away from them. His back to all of them. “Let them go” he says. They free the family of hunters, showing them all mercy. 

“Wheaty?!” Kate cries, trying to snap him out of it, “Wheaty please. It’s me, Kate”. 

She holds his face, cupping it, hoping to get him back into reality. All their friends drugged up, blind from reality. Paige grabs her arm, “Come on, we have to get out of here”. 

She resists, shaking her head “No, Wheaty please snap out of it. We have a child on the way” she cries. The Bliss has taken over his state of mind that he can’t comprehend anything.

Mark and Nate practically dragged Kate back into the car. Her, her mother and sister in the Impala, Kenny, Nate and Mark in the Monte Carlo. They all drive back to the compound.

*****

Little did they know they’re not the only ones that have had an issue with Joseph, and the Cult. The new Deputy has had their fair share of issues with the Seed family, and their followers.

Liberating their outposts and destroying their properties. Making the Seed family look like a family of psychopaths they need to be locked up. 

When Faith took off, she went to her gate and met with the Deputy. They put up a fight against her and they ended up killing her. 

Faith. Rachel would’ve been the adopted sister to the two sisters. Rachel Winchester would’ve been her name. 

****

They all arrive back at the compound. Kate in tears, Paige in shock.

The others come out, and see all their friends alive. Their children and wifes stand at the front porch. 

“Holy shit!!” Cody says relieved, “You’re all alive!!”.

They all nod, “Yeah, yeah we are” Mandy mutters. 

“Is Joseph alive?!?” Adrian asks. They all nod in disappointment, “Yeah, the fucker is still alive” Kate mutters angrily. 

“Where’s Rachel?” Kate asks them. The others shrug, “We don’t know, she fled the property when the peggies arrived”. 

“So now what?!” Mark asks, shrugging. 

Paige shakes her head “I don’t know, we’re gonna have to-”. 

As she’s speaking, it’s almost like God himself was making a huge entrance. Lighting up the entire sky. 

A bright white light blinds them all, covering their faces from the burning brightness. 

When the bright light clears, a giant mushroom-like cloud in the distance fills the sky. 

“Oh my god!!” Nate mutters in horror, “Oh my god!!”. 

A huge storm flies at them, causing the entire ground to shake violently. Making them stumble, and fall. The trees, and land go up in flames within seconds. Animals running to seek shelter. The whole sky orange, everything is a fiery orange red. 

“Shit! he was right!” Martin screams in horror, “He was right!”.

“Damn it Chuck!” Paige mumbles angrily with a hint of fear in her voice. 

Realization hitting hard, “Wheaty?, I have to get Wheaty!!” Kate yells.  

She gets stopped by her mother and brother in law, “Kate no!!”. 

“I have to go back for him!!” she cries, trying to get to her car. 

Paige tries to hold her back, “It’s too late for him!!. You’ll die if you go back!. Kenny! Adrian! Get the cars underground. Everyone else get the children, pets and go down to the bunker”. They get the cars underground to the bunker garage. They get all their kids, pets, and all go down to the bunker. 

Everyone settles underground. Fear, anger. So much emotion in one room. The distance rumbles of explosions going off, making it sound like the king of all thunderstorms is happening right above their heads. Paige looks around the main room of the bunker to see if everyone made it down. She counts everyone that was on the property. 

Herself, her daughter, Kate, Kenneth, her mother, Barbara, Mark, his wife and 2 kids, Nate, his wife and 3 kids. Cody and his wife, Martin and his fiancee, Adrian and his wife. 

“He was right” Kate mutters, playing with her bracelet, “Joseph Seed was right, and we didn’t see it coming. God, the Collapse, this sort of thing is right up our alley, and we didn’t believe him!!”.

Paige sighs in disappointment, “It’s not that we didn’t believe him. He didn't believe us, which is not surprising. It’s that he claimed that he spoke with Chuck, and for all we know. He couldn’t been played by him”.

Kate is about to say something when a fluttering sound, and a loud thud a few rooms away throws her off. 

“Did you hear that?!?” she asks the others. The others stay back while her and Paige go to investigate it. Kate then sees a single golden, brown feather on the floor.

“Hey, look a feather” she says, pointing at it. Paige, who doesn’t see it, looks at her in confusion. 

“Where?!?” she asks, looking around for it. They get to the source of the sound, and see a man with his back to them, kneeling on the floor. 

Paige pulls out her pistol, and aims at the intruder. 

They both see the same man, but Kate sees a little more. Tattered up golden, brown angelic wings. They approach the man, and stand in front of him. He lifts his head to look up at them, and they see the wounded, beaten up Archangel. 

“Gabriel?!?” Kate mutters. 

____

When the bombs fell

Not long after (The Angels fell)

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