[All Sansa must do is voice that concern, Brienne would knock it to the dirt as she has her naysayers as long as she has been able to hold a sword. It was a momentary sting and nothing more. They are here, she has fulfilled her promise to Lady Catelyn. Now her devotion has grown so much deeper than that, tangled and buried as much a part of her as the weirwood trees are a fixture in the North.
Gods, she may not stop weeping of joy yet. A new surge of tears spring at such a sweet, gentle kiss upon her hand.]
I won't leave you, not ever again.
[They've expressed remorse in the messages in the night, Brienne still feels that these are words worth saying in person. To watch her face as the truth rings through the walls. They are alone and yet now it is a whole new world.]
We never will part. No matter where I go. [ For who would deny a Queen her sworn sword? The lords she must travel to visit would likely give them a room to share without her even having to ask. Only death will take Brienne from her now, and Sansa hopes that will not be for years and years.
She kisses Brienne's mouth once more. It's meant to be brief, but Sansa can't help lingering for a few moments. It is so nice, kissing a woman, kissing Brienne. She wishes she had tried it sooner.
When she pulls away, her face is flush with happiness. ] Do you- do you wish to sit down? [ It's not exactly the most comfortable position they're in right now, though Sansa would happily stay for hours just to be in Brienne's arms. But there are chairs, and a settee, and- her bedroom is just a door away. But even a freshly-kissed Sansa is not so bold as to immediately suggest that. ]
[The service of one crown to another, that's an even change. There is a higher calling to this. She of course cared for her king, why oh why would she not? He too was the blood of Lady Catelyn Stark. Bran, Sansa and Arya are all proof that the noble blood of the wolf would still continue one way or the other. Sansa was like beholding a mirror to all of Brienne's private wants: a true, virtuous woman that had a strength of her own, that wanted the knight that the Maid of Tarth devoted herself to be. Her queen knew who and what she was and still wanted her. There was no way, no reason that she would turn from such a place of honor of love.
They part and Brienne blinks. She truly had lost her head. And kneeling on the floor and all that, highly dramatic. Her face pales then flushes furiously all the way from her neck to her hairline.]
Please. Yes.
[She clears her throat and her armor clatters.]
Do you...would you mind if I devest first? Just--the armor.
Oh, yes. Of course. [ It likely should have been done soon after she entered the castle, but Sansa hadn't noticed in her haste to get Brienne alone. Get her alone. That makes the whole thing sound unbearably sordid, and nothing could be further from the truth. Sansa knows herself, and she knows Brienne, and there have been many tales of old of knights adoring their ladies. Why should it matter if the knight is a woman too? Brienne belongs here, in Winterfell, by Sansa's side, in her arms. It feels just and true in the way few things in her life have.
She straightens up, reluctantly extricating herself from Brienne. Miraculously, her dress has remained unwrinkled. Indeed, if one of the servants came to the door right now, they wouldn't suspect anything amiss by her appearance. It would take someone who knew Sansa well to see the color in her cheeks. The way she can't seem to hide a smile. ] I can help you with it, if you like.
[Brienne went with her willingly, there was enough time wasted. And while it is a touch unheard of, she has no shame here with Sansa. All of the nerves buzzing her skin and blood are not wholly unpleasant. It reminds her that she is alive. That there are good feelings to be experienced. And the burn in her face is bitter and sweet like the finest wine of the Reach.
Her eyes drop to the choice of dress for Sansa. It is elegant and well crafted. The color of her house only sets her hair aflame all the more. That must also be why the rose blooming in her cheeks settles so perfectly. They both are aflush.]
Please, my lady.
[Formality is the most gentle of teasing. Brienne walks to the chaise, it would be better suited for them both now. And truly it seems silly that they keep playing this game of one sitting, one kneeling or standing. The height difference is not nearly so dramatic.]
...you have never looked upon me as a strange nor silly thing.
[Her voice is low as she begins to lift the panels of metal to show where the leather fastens and buckles lie hidden. How very fitting that she disarm here and now.]
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Gods, she may not stop weeping of joy yet. A new surge of tears spring at such a sweet, gentle kiss upon her hand.]
I won't leave you, not ever again.
[They've expressed remorse in the messages in the night, Brienne still feels that these are words worth saying in person. To watch her face as the truth rings through the walls. They are alone and yet now it is a whole new world.]
Not for war, not for anything.
no subject
She kisses Brienne's mouth once more. It's meant to be brief, but Sansa can't help lingering for a few moments. It is so nice, kissing a woman, kissing Brienne. She wishes she had tried it sooner.
When she pulls away, her face is flush with happiness. ] Do you- do you wish to sit down? [ It's not exactly the most comfortable position they're in right now, though Sansa would happily stay for hours just to be in Brienne's arms. But there are chairs, and a settee, and- her bedroom is just a door away. But even a freshly-kissed Sansa is not so bold as to immediately suggest that. ]
no subject
They part and Brienne blinks. She truly had lost her head. And kneeling on the floor and all that, highly dramatic. Her face pales then flushes furiously all the way from her neck to her hairline.]
Please. Yes.
[She clears her throat and her armor clatters.]
Do you...would you mind if I devest first? Just--the armor.
[The color is still high and bright in her face.]
no subject
She straightens up, reluctantly extricating herself from Brienne. Miraculously, her dress has remained unwrinkled. Indeed, if one of the servants came to the door right now, they wouldn't suspect anything amiss by her appearance. It would take someone who knew Sansa well to see the color in her cheeks. The way she can't seem to hide a smile. ] I can help you with it, if you like.
no subject
Her eyes drop to the choice of dress for Sansa. It is elegant and well crafted. The color of her house only sets her hair aflame all the more. That must also be why the rose blooming in her cheeks settles so perfectly. They both are aflush.]
Please, my lady.
[Formality is the most gentle of teasing. Brienne walks to the chaise, it would be better suited for them both now. And truly it seems silly that they keep playing this game of one sitting, one kneeling or standing. The height difference is not nearly so dramatic.]
...you have never looked upon me as a strange nor silly thing.
[Her voice is low as she begins to lift the panels of metal to show where the leather fastens and buckles lie hidden. How very fitting that she disarm here and now.]