[ Even if those in the South believe that they have turned over a new leaf, Sansa will always have her doubts. Nothing can truly change a place like King's Landing. She mislikes even her brother's presence there, though she reminds herself that Bran isn't the Bran she knew as a child any longer, and that another ruler might not have agreed to Northern Independence.
Brienne is looking at her now, and Sansa knows she must say something. She's thought so often of what she might say to Brienne, in dreams both waking and sleeping, to make her understand the extent of Sansa's feelings for her. Yet now her words seem to fail her entirely. ]
I hope you never leave me again. [ She manages that, at least. Hope can be deadly, she knows that. But maybe not this time. She draws in closer so she can embrace Brienne, arms wrapping around her solid frame. She's always been a taller woman, but Brienne dwarfs her. Some part of her likes that quite a bit. ]
[Silence would have been fitting too. Brienne allows herself to just bask in the other woman's presence. Here they stand, alive and well when so many others had fallen. And again she finds herself grateful for all that has been because it was not all senseless violence and suffering if it meant that Sansa can stand here, proud and strong. The North is free as it was always meant to be.]
I can think of no reason important enough to take me from you.
[You. She meant to say here. And before she can feel sorry or stumble with words they are in an embrace. Brienne is a formative swordswoman and has held her own in a pit with bear. She feels utterly disarmed. Her arms fold around Sansa and her knees feel weak.]
Sansa. I---[there aren't enough words in the common tongue. Not enough ways to express it. Try, you foolish oaf, she screams at herself. Sansa smells clean and she feels immediate shame for being so large, so unwashed but the Queen of the North still wants to embrace her.]
[ Sansa has greeted home men bloody from battle. The scent of the road is nothing, merely proof of the journey Brienne took, to get back to her. Back to where her heart felt at home. ]
Brienne. [ Sansa understands. Words are hard to come by at a moment like this. As she pulls back only just enough so she can meet Brienne's eyes, she feels pinpricks of tears behind her own, though it isn't the bitter tears that Brienne has seen her weep before. No, she is smiling, smiling as she hasn't in months. ]
I would ask something of you. [ For a moment, her eyes dart away, nervous. ] I hope you do not think me foolish...
[This was a homecoming not from a war, more like better judgement winning over fantasy. She could have lived in the South, she would have efficiently, proudly served King Bran until the end of her days. It would not have been right. It would not have felt close to this.
Their eyes meet in brilliant shades of blue, sapphires and crystalline pools of ice. Tears are clinging to Brienne's eyelashes. Her face feels even warmer.]
I would never, ever think you a fool. Ask me whatever you wish.
[Though she has a hope that it is to stay by her side, to never leave her. Brienne would do her very best to fulfill that request.]
[ Their faces are incredibly close by now, and Sansa cannot imagine why anyone wouldn't think Brienne is beautiful. It's a different sort of beauty from Sansa herself, but it exists, and she is drawn to it. Drawn to her. ]
I would have us be... the very closest of companions. [ Does Brienne understand? She must. They've been talking around it, Sansa isn't even sure how to explain what she wants, but she does know she wants it. Her gaze flickers, almost without thinking, to Brienne's lips.
She desperately wants to ask, but she's afraid. Afraid of rejection, no matter how unlikely it might seem. Afraid of what it might feel like, to have a kiss that wasn't stolen from her by some cruel man, but given willingly, to her dearest friend. ]
[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.]
[ If a knock came at the door now, Sansa isn't sure how she would react. It feels like everything outside this room has disappeared completely. Sansa can feel herself start to tremble as Brienne kneels, and kisses her hands. It feels desperately right, but also not enough. There is an ache that has been inside her for a long time, one that she thought might go away when she became the leader of a free North, but it didn't. It feels as though it is loosening now. Her heart is tripping wildly in her chest, but her gaze is steady. ]
My Brienne. How I missed you. [ Sansa smiles. Her hands squeeze Brienne's. And she doesn't look away, not as she bends, crouching slightly so they're on the same level. Not as she pulls a hand away from Brienne only to touch her face gently. And certainly not as her own face comes closer, closer, closer until she can finally press her lips to Brienne's.
It's not what a Queen should be doing, she knows. But it feels so right. People should write songs about moments like this. ]
[Is it common for a person to be so surprised when their fondest unspoken wish comes to pass? This could be a dream. Brienne shuts her eyes and tears still slip down her face. She is not crying because of life's cruelty, of her wavering self-worth. Her heart is light, her life narrowed down to one true reality: she was meant to be here with Sansa Stark.
Her heart is proclaiming over and over again that this is alive, that this is waking life. Sansa's lips are smooth, sweet and it is like a first taste of sweet berry wine. Brienne yields to the pressure of this gentle touch, her lips parting before surging forward with her own enthusiastic return. One, twice, thrice.... so few and yet so many when there were never any before.]
[ Sansa can feel Brienne's tears on her own face, and she is sure she might find herself in a similar state soon enough. All this waiting, all this yearning, and finally she has what she wants. And by some miracle, Brienne wants it too. ]
I dreamed of this. [ She whispers bashfully, the confession she'd felt couldn't be shared over messages. Before she can say anything more, Brienne is kissing her again. Sansa doesn't mind. It makes her feel very warm, to think that Brienne wants this just as much. She could do this for hours. The hand at Brienne's face draws up enough so Sansa can wipe a tear away. ]
[She must open her eyes, because while the touch and taste and warmth is all true enough, Brienne wants to behold Sansa here with her as she is. And she is still breathtakingly beautiful. Somehow she wills herself to take a few measured breaths and put the smallest bit of space between them to speak.]
I had hoped but....I never thought...
[Brienne cannot finish the words and lightly shakes her head.]
Not because of you nor anything you've done.
[The initial refusal of devoted, knightly services was turned away. Brienne of Tarth was accustomed to being brushed away like dirt on a hem. Her tenacity had rewarded her. Understanding what had befallen Sansa time and again before in the guise of alliance or friendship, there was no blame to be cast upon her.]
[ It makes Sansa sick, to think of her past self turning away Brienne for the sake of Petyr, of all people. She tries not to dwell on all the past decisions that could have gone a different way, but when she does, they sting. She focuses instead on what Brienne is saying now.
And oh, what she says. The tears finally fall from where they've clung to her eyes. ]
I love you too. My knight.
[ And she brings the hand in still in hers up to her lips, to kiss it, just as Brienne had done to her. There aren't really any stories of ladies or queens doing such for their knights... but they have already broken so many rules regarding what's normal today so Sansa is trusting her instincts more. ]
[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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no subject
Date: 2020-09-13 09:13 pm (UTC)Brienne is looking at her now, and Sansa knows she must say something. She's thought so often of what she might say to Brienne, in dreams both waking and sleeping, to make her understand the extent of Sansa's feelings for her. Yet now her words seem to fail her entirely. ]
I hope you never leave me again. [ She manages that, at least. Hope can be deadly, she knows that. But maybe not this time. She draws in closer so she can embrace Brienne, arms wrapping around her solid frame. She's always been a taller woman, but Brienne dwarfs her. Some part of her likes that quite a bit. ]
no subject
Date: 2020-09-13 09:24 pm (UTC)I can think of no reason important enough to take me from you.
[You. She meant to say here. And before she can feel sorry or stumble with words they are in an embrace. Brienne is a formative swordswoman and has held her own in a pit with bear. She feels utterly disarmed. Her arms fold around Sansa and her knees feel weak.]
Sansa. I---[there aren't enough words in the common tongue. Not enough ways to express it. Try, you foolish oaf, she screams at herself. Sansa smells clean and she feels immediate shame for being so large, so unwashed but the Queen of the North still wants to embrace her.]
no subject
Date: 2020-09-13 10:36 pm (UTC)Brienne. [ Sansa understands. Words are hard to come by at a moment like this. As she pulls back only just enough so she can meet Brienne's eyes, she feels pinpricks of tears behind her own, though it isn't the bitter tears that Brienne has seen her weep before. No, she is smiling, smiling as she hasn't in months. ]
I would ask something of you. [ For a moment, her eyes dart away, nervous. ] I hope you do not think me foolish...
no subject
Date: 2020-09-14 12:16 am (UTC)Their eyes meet in brilliant shades of blue, sapphires and crystalline pools of ice. Tears are clinging to Brienne's eyelashes. Her face feels even warmer.]
I would never, ever think you a fool. Ask me whatever you wish.
[Though she has a hope that it is to stay by her side, to never leave her. Brienne would do her very best to fulfill that request.]
no subject
Date: 2020-09-14 02:19 am (UTC)I would have us be... the very closest of companions. [ Does Brienne understand? She must. They've been talking around it, Sansa isn't even sure how to explain what she wants, but she does know she wants it. Her gaze flickers, almost without thinking, to Brienne's lips.
She desperately wants to ask, but she's afraid. Afraid of rejection, no matter how unlikely it might seem. Afraid of what it might feel like, to have a kiss that wasn't stolen from her by some cruel man, but given willingly, to her dearest friend. ]
no subject
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.]
no subject
Date: 2020-09-14 03:02 pm (UTC)My Brienne. How I missed you. [ Sansa smiles. Her hands squeeze Brienne's. And she doesn't look away, not as she bends, crouching slightly so they're on the same level. Not as she pulls a hand away from Brienne only to touch her face gently. And certainly not as her own face comes closer, closer, closer until she can finally press her lips to Brienne's.
It's not what a Queen should be doing, she knows. But it feels so right. People should write songs about moments like this. ]
no subject
Date: 2020-09-14 07:04 pm (UTC)[Is it common for a person to be so surprised when their fondest unspoken wish comes to pass? This could be a dream. Brienne shuts her eyes and tears still slip down her face. She is not crying because of life's cruelty, of her wavering self-worth. Her heart is light, her life narrowed down to one true reality: she was meant to be here with Sansa Stark.
Her heart is proclaiming over and over again that this is alive, that this is waking life. Sansa's lips are smooth, sweet and it is like a first taste of sweet berry wine. Brienne yields to the pressure of this gentle touch, her lips parting before surging forward with her own enthusiastic return. One, twice, thrice.... so few and yet so many when there were never any before.]
no subject
Date: 2020-09-14 08:29 pm (UTC)I dreamed of this. [ She whispers bashfully, the confession she'd felt couldn't be shared over messages. Before she can say anything more, Brienne is kissing her again. Sansa doesn't mind. It makes her feel very warm, to think that Brienne wants this just as much. She could do this for hours. The hand at Brienne's face draws up enough so Sansa can wipe a tear away. ]
no subject
Date: 2020-09-15 05:17 am (UTC)I had hoped but....I never thought...
[Brienne cannot finish the words and lightly shakes her head.]
Not because of you nor anything you've done.
[The initial refusal of devoted, knightly services was turned away. Brienne of Tarth was accustomed to being brushed away like dirt on a hem. Her tenacity had rewarded her. Understanding what had befallen Sansa time and again before in the guise of alliance or friendship, there was no blame to be cast upon her.]
I love you, Sansa.
no subject
Date: 2020-09-15 08:09 am (UTC)And oh, what she says. The tears finally fall from where they've clung to her eyes. ]
I love you too. My knight.
[ And she brings the hand in still in hers up to her lips, to kiss it, just as Brienne had done to her. There aren't really any stories of ladies or queens doing such for their knights... but they have already broken so many rules regarding what's normal today so Sansa is trusting her instincts more. ]
no subject
Date: 2020-09-15 06:00 pm (UTC)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
Date: 2020-09-15 06:31 pm (UTC)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
Date: 2020-09-16 09:26 pm (UTC)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
Date: 2020-09-17 12:58 am (UTC)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
Date: 2020-09-19 05:49 pm (UTC)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.]