[Her vocation of choice, being a lady of action not of grace nor beauty still had the burden of her gender attached. Voices of colleagues, of comrades and enemies all would deal their judgement on her for her skin, her hair, her eyes, her body. So few ever found beauty and spoke of it. And those that did find features that were admirable did not say a thing. If she knew that Queen Sansa thought her to be anything like beautiful, Brienne of Tarth would die happy whenever the Stranger came to meet her. That moment could be now. It feels so heavy, so momentous in the brief silence between these words. Her heart can't make up its mind to still or be impossibly loud.]
To be close to you, to be with you is my most earnest wish.
[She keeps her voice low, willing hope to be there too. They both look upon one another plainly. Brienne grips at Sansa before, as she had in the yard, she slips to kneel this time upon one knee, not so low as before. She reaches for both of Sansa's hands to clasp them in her own. It is as a knight would to a lady.]
Sansa...
[Again her voice fails her. Brienne brings both of her bare, soft hands to brush her mouth over her knuckles. Two kisses. Thank the Gods they are alone.]
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Date: 2020-09-14 04:48 am (UTC)To be close to you, to be with you is my most earnest wish.
[She keeps her voice low, willing hope to be there too. They both look upon one another plainly. Brienne grips at Sansa before, as she had in the yard, she slips to kneel this time upon one knee, not so low as before. She reaches for both of Sansa's hands to clasp them in her own. It is as a knight would to a lady.]
Sansa...
[Again her voice fails her. Brienne brings both of her bare, soft hands to brush her mouth over her knuckles. Two kisses. Thank the Gods they are alone.]