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fadingdaggerr · 1 year

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part one | part two | part three | part four

pairing: brienne of tarth x gn!reader

summary: continuation of a piece of home now set in mid-late season 4 when brienne is searching for arya and sansa, about a year and a half since the first chapter.

warnings: got s3-4 spoilers, canon typical violence but mostly in conversation, descriptions of injuries and death (brief), the classic lesbian ‘dancing around each other’

note: i told ya it would be slowburn :) sorry for the slow updates, college sucks and i am so behind because i keep getting overwhelmed and procrastinating

the news the king joffrey’s demise spread across the kingdoms with fury. little birds of your own running to send you word, quick hands tying notes to the bird. when a raven reached the camp, larkin was bobbing and weaving through the crowd. the red seal meant trouble, the kind that would likely cause the vein in your forehead to bulge and you to probably break something.

running into the tent, he comes to a screeching halt, a meeting progressive in front of him. your eyes look at him, he waves the notes, red seal on display. you wave him over frantically, meeting pausing just as fast as larkin entered.

commander-

the king is dead. poisoned. not sure who yet, but lord tyrion blamed. lady sansa missing. more to follow. suggest a move north.

- eoin

you read the note aloud, silence followed, everyone stunned. the glass to your right was thrown against the ground. this meant war was coming. winter was already drawing closer, but bloodshed was soon to come. the lannisters would never let this go.

eoin knew well of what move you’d make, you began the move north. it was slow, a complicated path to ward off unwanted followers. the weeks grew long, the desperation you felt for another raven was palpable. the further north we traveled, the harder it was word easily and discreetly.

orion brings a scroll, red wax, cloud pressed in.

commander-

your lady knight is leaving king’s landing within the week, looking for ladies sansa and arya. lannister man gave her a sword. moving north with a squire.

- rahim

the second you read the words ‘lady knight’ in fast., messy handwriting, your hands gripped the parchment a little tighter. a squire? had she been knighted, had they rightfully acknowledged her at last? you opt to ignore the use of ‘your’ in front of her nickname. instead you write a response, adding updated travel routes that will be followed, as well as advising the use of coded messages from now on. the scroll was passed to orion with directions of a new bird to land towards the east side of the city.

—

leaving the tavern with podrick and the wolf-shaped bread from hotpie left brienne with some semblance of hope. she could not save lady catelyn, but she could fulfill her promise and protect her daughters. if she ever found the bloody devils.

“where to now, my lady?” podrick asked, despite knowing the answer.

“north. if sansa fled, she’ll go somewhere familiar, to someone she trusts,” brienne was certain, and podrick nodded. he had only been under her service for a short time, but he had already gained large amounts of respect for her.

so north they went, and went, and went. brienne had been slowly teaching podrick to sword fight. he was nowhere near being able to defend himself, but the spirit was there. when the practice was over, they’d eat in silence. brienne wiped off her small knife, tucking it next to the horn that stayed in her storage. she hadn’t unraveled the sheathed dagger that was carefully knotted around the horn, afraid of acknowledging it, but keeping it near.

two months into her travels, she is awoken while stars still paint the sky. she rubs her eyes, growing slightly, she almost falls back asleep, assuming the noise was podrick or imaginary. but there it is again.

she sits up, hand automatically falling on her weapon. a blaring, deep in the woods. it’s far away, so the sound just barely reaching her ears. one more faint sound, then silence. and it remains. she lays back down, shaking her head to toss away the distractions. ‘probably some locals,’ she muses to herself, before falling asleep once again.

another month passes, and brienne swears she is being watched. she’s positive it isn’t her squire, he minds his business, and his stares don’t feel this imposing. a rustle in the trees above her caught her attention, but she saw nothing, she assumed it was animals of the forest. she looks around, but there’s still nothing. no one. she’s going crazy, is all she can think. ‘all this stark ladies business has driven me mad!’

—

a younger man in your company, dorin, comes rushing through the crowd, he’s walking, although very fast. he gracefully dodges each person, bumping into no one, uttering no words as he slithers between them.

he silently approaches you as you’re sitting on your desk. he likes to give people a scare when he can, but you notice him, turning and catching him off guard.

“what can i do you for, dorin?” you say without looking at him, smirking to yourself as you look a potential supply routes.

he clears his throat, “i spotted a tall woman, blonde. accompanied by a man, quite a bit shorter than the woman, with brown hair. a horse for each. and quite the fancy sword on her hip, but i could only see the hilt. not well given my altitude, still it looked beautifully crafted.” dorin’s reports always had perfect detail, he had climbing expertise, and he didn’t ask question as to why you had him survey the woods. he was perfect for the job.

“thank you dorin, that’ll be all. send ragnall to me on your way out,” you say diplomatically, hiding the giddiness that filled your chest.

“you called?” ragnall stood in the entrance.

you swing so your legs dangle off the desktop, “yes. gather two others and please nicely escort the travelers one hour east to of our camp. nicely. got it?” you raise and eyebrow.

“yes, commander,” he grumbles, hoping for something more exciting, but heads to follow orders. you jump off the desk, and move just outside the tent.

“boy!” you call out, hands cupped around your mouth. less than twenty seconds, and larkin was headed to you, stopping just before you. “ready two cots and make way for two horses, we got visitors in two,” and he’s off. and you’re patiently waiting in your tent, hands twisting and pulling at each other in your lap.

—

brienne was washing up when she heard podrick yell for her, she is quick to come to his aid. sword drawn, she stands protectively in front of podrick.

“what is your business here?” she asks, eyes stern and angry.

“lady brienne, we’re here to escort you to camp,” ragnall speaks first, hoping she’ll recognize him best. her sword immediately slides back into her scabbard.

the entire walk back to the camp her hands were sweating. she explained to pod meeting you with jaime, and how she found out about the skyforth. he listens carefully, and she’s careful not to talk to much about you. she does mention you’re from tarth, and that it was nice to know someone from there, easily explaining away any overflowing joy.

she saw the tents growing closer, the guards closest the opening moving to make way for everyone and the horses. her eyes darted around for the largest tent, with the large table and the desk you sat on instead of at. their horses were taking over to the others with a quick promise of their belongings being brought to their own tent. podrick looked to her for confirmation, she assured him it was okay, she trusted these men and their commander.

ragnall led her to the tent she had she looking for, her eyes unblinking as they approached. they stopped as ragnall lowered his head to enter the tent to announce their presence. she heard your voice say something, but couldn’t make it out. still, she bit back a smile, podrick did not notice.

ragnall’s arms opened the curtain. she took a breath and steadied her mind quickly, ducking into the tent, podrick behind her.

you. all black attire as she had assumed was your typical choice, your cour cloak was draped across a chair. you looked less imposing without it, but she knew that was not the case. you’re deadly, just like her, fierce like her, angry like her. but she knew you were soft underneath, she had seen it with larkin and a little with herself.

brienne. clad in castle armor, only lacking lannister lions on the pauldrons. a lion’s head pommel on her sword mad your fingers twitch, questions filled your head. all of them became fuzzy when your eyes moved to her face. her hair was lighter from the sun exposure of travel, freckles blooming on her cheeks. you took in a deep breath.

“brienne of tarth,” you step forward, arm extended to shake. she does so quickly, smiling gently.

“commander. let me introduce you to my traveling comp-” she hears him clear his throat behind her, “my squire, podrick.”

he sticks his arm out to you with a smile, but you speak before him, “podrick payne.” you shake is arm, chuckling at his shock of you knowing his name. you knew of him, your little birds had told you all about pod. and by just looking at him, you liked him already, he’s much better than not-so-pompous and thinks-he’s-pretty.

“it’s nice you have you back, lady brienne. and with a squire no less. have your talents finally been appreciated by the crown?” you ask with genuinely.

she lets out a dry laugh, “no, they haven’t. the armor and sword were a gift, to help me keep my promise to the late lady catelyn.”

“i was heartbroken to hear of her death. we only met once, but she was a kind and fierce woman. i pray to the gods for her and her children,” you look at the floor as you speak, then to brienne, “does your new sword have a name?”

she smiles, excited to speak of her new weapon, “oathkeeper.”

“a good title for both you and your sword,” she’s too stunned to respond, “hungry?” podrick nods happily.

—

podrick asks you loads of questions, most of which with a full mouth, you happily answer. after a minute, your eyes widen, dropping your fork as you scramble from the table. brienne’s thoughts catch up with yours. larkin. she hears your usual call for him.

before you’re even back at the table the boy is running in, faster than lightning. he had a huge, goofy smile on his face. brienne was shocked to see the boy a whole head taller since she had last seen him, no longer such a little boy.

“lady brienne!” he yells excitedly, almost running to hug her but sticks with sticking his arm out quickly. she returns it her equal passion.

“how are you larkin? how’s your training going?” she asks with real, genuine curiosity. you watched with a soft smile as he spoke with excitement, talking about everything and anything. brienne listened intently, nodding and asking questions. podrick noticed your smile, but only got half the reason.

“he your son?” he asks, no food in his mouth this go around.

you’re about to speak when you’re cut off by larkin, “pretty much.” your heart almost explodes in that moment, you won’t cry, you can’t, not until you’re alone. your nose twitches, and you grab your cup and large drink. brienne takes note of your rapid blinking that pushed back a wave of tears.

“um, larkin. you didn’t introduce yourself to podrick here, he used to squire for lord tyrion,” you change the subject to save your ego. podrick looks to brienne, who looks at you. how did you know that? she hadn’t told you that.

“wait, for the i-” now is your turn to cut off larkin.

“aye! don’t call him that boy, he doesn’t like it,” you look to brienne, “i know everything. little birds, you know this,” you read hers and pod’s faces easily. larkin had a million questions and so many things to say, and podrick was matching his enthusiasm.

“go show podrick the practice yard, he’s learning to sword fight as well,” you say, “you can talk all you want down there, give him a tour.” they leave immediately, even twice his age, pod had a childlike air about him.

there was tension in the silence, brienne wanted to break it, “how have you been?”

i swallowed and took a deep breath, “we’ve been traveling north, trying to stay as far away from the mess in king’s landing as possible. larkin told you about training, it’s just been moving i guess.”

“not what i asked. how have you been?” she leans towards you.

you can hardly look at her, “would it be bad to say ‘i have no fucking idea’?” you rotate the glass in your hand.

“no, i understand. i have been in the same position as of late,” she honest in her words. she’s felt a hole in the center of her chest all her life, one that felt like it was slowly filling in your presence.

“it’s good to see you again, brienne of tarth,” your eyes look into hers. she looks back.

“it’s good you see as well, no name of tarth,” she jests. “i believe i was promised your name upon our next meeting.”

“and i recall saying ‘maybe next time,’ did i not?” you get up from the table. she follows.

you walk down to her tent, giving her space to remove her armor, she knew it wasn’t necessary here. she kept her sword close, grounded by the security and weight of it against her hip. she emerges in her dark linen pants and blue tunic, and you’re sure her eyes couldn’t get any more blue. you kept your staring to a minimum, turning to continue the stroll. brienne stayed behind you for a moment, watching you now. your hair longer, not bothering to cut it while you traveled, the new scar on the back of your neck, disappearing underneath the collar of your shirt.

when she reached your side again, she took a second to take in your profile. the bags under your eyes visible, eyes straight ahead, jaw set. the world had been cruel since you last met, she could see that much. wooden swords clashing together broke her attention, seeing podrick and larkin practicing together. you and brienne both chuckled at larkin’s noticeable higher skill.

you kept walking, letting ‘the boys have their fun.’ you sat at the fire pit, brienne sits on the same log as you this time. you. it’s sit in comfortable silence now. she feels your staring, eyes fixed on left ear. your eyes traced the shell, where there was a light scar from your first encounter. she turned to face you, you look away, facing the fire once again.

“i like it, you know. the scar. it’s a nice reminder,” she says.

you laugh, “you like that i threw a dagger at you?”

“not at all. i like that i won’t forget meeting you.”

you liked this as well, a permanent reminder of you with her. you only wish you had more that memories to remember her. you relied on memories of the flames lighting up her face, orange fire making her turn golden. you thought about her often when you couldn’t sleep, which seemed to be most nights as of late.

“you seemed to have accidentally left something in my stores,” she jokes.

“i was wondering when you’d mention that,” you sound nervous, and you continue quietly, “i was hoping you may hear the horns one and respond.”

it all made sense. she had heard you a month ago, calling, sending word to others, it was a call to bring others to you. to bring them home. she didn’t mention it, not wanting you to know she had failed you.

“i found my way regardless. how did you find me?”

“dorin. he’s quite the climber,” you watched her face twist, then fall. she had felt herself being watched the last time she was here, she never thought you’d have spies in the trees. you messengers in the capital being so well hidden made more sense.

“i’d gotten word of a certain lady knight leaving king’s landing, with a squire, no less. we were already headed north, as were you. i hoped our paths would cross, and maybe i willed it myself,” your voice is happy, but you still don’t look at her. she didn’t want to admit that your words had her heart racing, that you made her weak.

“i’m glad you did,” and you both just enjoy each other’s company.

supper comes, and podrick and larkin return, sweaty and covered in dirt. larkin stands next to the table as podrick moves fo sit down.

“were you raised by pigs?” you question. “go wash that shit off you before either of you sits down in one of my chairs,” larkin is quick to run at the aspect of sitting with everyone. brienne tilts her head towards podrick, he turns and follows the other boy.

“and they say women are the ones that who need orders to follow,” brienne says, and you laugh heartily. she bathes in the sound, a sound she caused. she wanted to hear your laugh again and again, and even more after that.

you look at her from across the table, face unreadable, “will you leave tomorrow?”

if her heart wasn’t already racing, oh gods would it be running for it’s life. she suppresses a shakiness that is migrating from her hands to her voice, “i think pod and i are quite weary from our travels, we may stay an extra night. just so we’re well-rested, of course.”

“of course,” you smile.

—

in the morning hours, brienne is greeted with a sight that almost tears her lungs from her chest. you were dressed down, no longer in your uniform. instead, black pants and grey tunic rested upon you, tunic untied at the top. your hair was wet, dampening the collar of your shirt. a dagger was still tethered to your thigh, you were never without one it seemed, an extension of you. you looked calm, peaceful even. no one else was awake, you had no responsibilities right now.

she approaches you, hoping you wouldn’t catch her admiring you. your content face grows a smile, crinkles around your eyes deepening. brienne was beautiful. no one could convince you otherwise, if they disagreed they must be blind, or dense, or both. she’s wearing a darker blue tunic, making her eyes look brighter. the sapphire in her irises encrusting your heart.

“good morning, commander,” she says slyly.

“good morning, lady brienne. sleep well?” you meet her halfway, only about a foot of space between you both. you smelled like honey and pine.

“best sleep i’ve had in months, truly. this is the first bed that hasn’t been made of leave or reeked of piss,” she says dryly, humor evident in her eyes.

“i’m glad. last you were here, you couldn’t sleep. i guess it’s because you’re no longer around strangers.”

“definitely not. except for you, i still haven’t got your name,” she wants to know, no, needs to know. she wants to say your name, to think of you more than just ‘the commander.’

you wanted to hear her say your name, but years of hiding had made your skin thick and your distrust in people thicker. you trusted her, but not the rest. “soon,” is all you say. she takes this answer, knowing she wouldn’t get another for a while.

you move away from her, eyes still on her face. she followed as you began walking, all the way to the tree line. you looked at her, silently asking if she wanted to come with you. she nodded, she thinks she’d follow you anywhere.

walking in the woods with you was peaceful. the crunching of sticks beneath you, the wet leaves dampening the sound of your footsteps. everything is quite, light, pretty. brienne feels like she left her stresses behind her at the tree line, all her doubts were in the tall grass. she stands behind as watches as you move slowly, crouching behind a tree, your movements carry no noise. she tries to move closer, but you look at her sharply, and she stays still. she watches you move quickly, hand going to your ankle, dagger out and thrown quickly. a large bird falls from branch across the stream.

you spring up from your spot, quickly and expertly crossing over the stream on slippery stones to retrieve the bird. you come back the way you left, holding up your prize to brienne, a satisfied smile on your face.

“breakfast for two, m’lady?” you ask with a bow, then begin walking. she laughs at your words, following you back to camp.

“how could i say no to that?”

getting back to camp meant getting back when everyone had risen. podrick was with larkin again, both shooting arrows into hay bale targets, both missing miserably. the bird was grabbed by a man who strolled by, yelling ‘gimme an hour’ over his shoulder. the camp was lively, brienne smiled to herself. it felt like home.

—

nightfall reached the camp, different groups stay around the different fires. the chatting, laughter, and music carried brienne around as she searched for you. after breakfast you had disappeared to discuss future plans with the leading men of skyforth, leaving brienne to fill the time without you. she wished she could have gotten more time to see the green of the forest paint your face. she almost wished you had been unsuccessful in your hunt, selfishly wishing she could have wandered beside you for just a moment longer. what has gotten into me?

she sits at fire, losing herself in the flames. she watches the dancing of light a little longer, feeling someone’s presence. she doesn’t have to look to know it’s you, but she does anyways, just to see you. you look at her just as intently, sitting to her left.

she meets your eyes, one concealed in darkness, the other shining in the fire’s light. she looks back to the flames. your eyes stay on her, she feels them searching her, the attention crawling on her like a gentle ladybug. her feels ears warm as she feels your eyes stay there, she blames it on the fire. that is until she sees a hand slowly rising to the shell of her ear. your fingers graze over her scar with a feather-light touch, the scar you put there. you were so gentle, brienne almost thought she was imagining it. she turned and look at your face, lips turned down, crease between your eyebrows prominent. you were ashamed of yourself for hurting her, no matter what she said earlier.

brienne’s hand comes to grab the one by her ear, holding your hand to display your scarred knuckles to her. she could she little ones around your fingers, faded and old, likely from your days before being a master of the dagger. she liked those ones, but the deeper ones, she hated.

“ask whatever you want,” you spoke softly, “i can feel your mind working, can practically see it too.”

her thumb runs over your knuckles, a question in itself. you answered, “most are from fighting, first one was when i was was taken from tarth, last was about two months after you parted. i try to keep my distance, but sometimes i’m impatient.”

she laughs lightly, trying not to break this quiet moment. she’s already about to burst at the seams from holding your hand, and you’re in the same condition in your own mind. you’re so focused on not shaking, that your haven’t stopped staring at her eyes in the orange glow. they were crystalized sapphire seas gifted to her, the only one worthy enough to be trusted.

“which one was the worst?” brienne asks, her voice is careful. you wince are the thought, pulling your hand from hers to move your cloak away and lift your tunic. just below your left ribs was a large, jagged scar, it was clear that the injury had been deep. brienne resists the urge to trace your scar as you did hers, her hands twitching.

you lower the tunic back down, “we got raided four years ago. assholes just went straight for the kids, so i threw myself in there. got four out of five down, last one got me with my own blade, took it from my back.” you take a deep breath, “he went for the kids, so i took the knife out and slit his throat. larkin and two others had to carry me out to the healers. they were just little babes, they shouldn’t have had to do that.”

brienne places a hand on your knee giving it squeeze, “they were able to save you because you saved them. they know you’d never let anything happen to them.” your hand sits atop hers and squeezes back, a silent ‘thank you.’

“i may ask you anything?” she clarifies, already knowing what she needs to know. the only thing she had been thinking about for a year.

you lean forward ever-so-slightly and whisper, “anything.”

“what’s your name?” she whispers back, she almost feels like she’s learning your deepest, most damning secret.

you close your eyes and huff a laugh through your nose, you knew she’d ask. you look back up to answer, but a large gust of laughter bursts your bubble. you’re both suddenly aware of other people moving closer. drinking hour has begun for the men, and the children are playing pretend with the practice swords. podrick was sitting with everyone, pretending he hadn’t been watching you and brienne every now and then, only being able to you slightly around her shoulder.

as everyone’s approaching the fire, you whisper the answer she’s being dying for. she reads your lips, going to test the name on her own tongue. your hand covers her mouth, free hand making a shushing motion, laughing behind your finger. you can feel her grin beneath your hand and it overwhelms you. you quickly take away your hand.

podrick sits himself on a log near you both, brienne’s eyes snap to him and are practically screaming ‘not a word.’ he just takes a sip of ale. ragnall brings you and brienne each a drink. he bends down to speak to you quietly, his words only traveling to your ears.

“don’t get too attached, commander. she’s here for bed and meal, nothing else. she’s leaving tomorrow and war is brewing,” you shove him harshly away from you, and he walks away, knowing you’d tell him to ‘piss off’ anyways. you visibly deflate, but take a strong sip to drown his words. brienne is enraged by him taking your smile so quickly, how quickly doubt clouded your eyes from his words. she wants to ask, but you shake your head.

“it’s nothing, he’s a killjoy,” you say as if it were nothing, but the shake of your leg gave you away. you press you palm into your knee to still it’s motion, brienne is confident she now despises ragnall. she’s not the only one who notices your mood plummet, because before she can even think of what to do, larkin jogs over.

“commander, could we do dagger practice? i want to learn throwing in the dark,” he tugs the sleeve of your upper arm. you stand immediately, arm wrapping around him shoulder.

“pinch me i’m dreaming,” you say as you squeeze the boy into you, hugging him tightly as he laughs, “did i just hear that you want to throw daggers? willingly?” you pull away and pretend to inspect him, angling his head is odd directions as he laughs, “are you sure you aren’t a witch, a shapeshifter?”

brienne watches the scene before her with a smile. how easily your spirits were lifted by someone you loved, especially this parental love you felt for larkin. she could never make you smile this much, she knows that larkin is the only one who can, but she wants to get close regardless. podrick watches brienne look at you, he finds himself sad for her that they have to leave in the morning. he knows there’s something more, and he knows brienne will ignore it as long as possible.

larkin begins to drag you, your voice carries over your shoulder, “you two coming or not?”

the four of you go to the targets. your demeanor changes from parent to teacher quite quickly. podrick attempts to throw into the target as well, missing terribly, while larkin’s land on the outer rings. yours create a horizontal line, one in the middle and one on each side. brienne throws a single dagger, she hits the target towards the bottom, but ‘at least hit she hit it,’ as pod grumbled put it.

larkin headed off to bed as the sky became devoid of light, podrick went for another drink and to warm by the fire. this left you and brienne at the targets. she watched you throw dagger after dagger, each hitting its destination as if you were moving it with your mind. you had covered the target almost completely, none of the daggers touching. she walked with you to retrieve them all, helping you silently.

“what did ragnall say to you?” she asks, breaking the tense silence. you paused for a moment, then continued.

“nothing of importance. he’s all work, no fun,” you grunt as you pull the center dagger out. the ones in the center were deep, some were down to the wood in the middle of the targets. “i’m sorry, i just… he’s an ass, and he knows how to make me cross,” is all you can say.

“i’ve got my own one of those,” brienne jests, trying to lift the mood.

“ah yes, but he’s all the way in king’s landing. mine is practically up my ass every time i think about sitting down,” you point a knife at him from across the camp, pretending to throw it, “prick.”

she laughs at your childish behaviors, “i think we should head back to everyone else.”

you roll your eyes, “and i think that if i’m within five feet of that ferret, i’ll choke him. i’ll stay right here.” brienne barks a laugh at your words, moving to grab a torch off the side of a nearby tent to light the small fire pit by the targets.

“would anyone question you for doing so? you’re the commander,” she says with a joking tone.

“probably not, but don’t tempt me, lady brienne. i have very little self-control,” you say back, sitting down next to the fire. brienne’s mouth shuts quickly, and she moves to sit with you.

she blames the heat rushing to her cheeks on the flames once again. she grows brave and responds, eyes coming back to your face, “maybe i should continue then.” she smiles at your eyes lighting up.

brienne’s mouth moves faster than her mind, “what did you mean the time we saw each other?”

your eyes fell to your lap, “i said a lot of things, be more specific.”

“that you know your own thoughts,” she wants to how if you see her the same as she sees you, all encompassing.

“stories people make up, men make up, when they feel small, are nothing of importance. i’ve met you, spoken to you, seen you,” your words make brienne feel a little sick, “so far the only truly thing they’ve said is that you’re tall, and from tarth. two things!” she looks at her hands, her mind raging against her.

you lean and grab her hand, “you are not a beast,” she looks at you, “or ugly, or any of that shit they dare say about you. they’re intimidated by you, you’re powerful and alluring,” you’re speaking from your heart it seems, “if you asked me, i would say you’re quite beautiful, perhaps handsome even.”

brienne tried not to think about it much as she fell asleep. she definitely didn’t think about you holding her hand and calling her beautiful and handsome. or the shy smile you gave her that made her heart squeeze in her chest, breath shaking with each exhale. or how you held her hand for an hour until you got up to smother the fire. or how you walked her to her tent and said goodnight to her quietly, like it was a secret message from you to her. or how you looked back as you walked away, lingering there for a moment.

—

the next morning, you stare at the roof of your tent for gods know how long. if you didn’t leave the tent, she wouldn’t go, right? of course she would, she has an oath to keep, a you tell your selfish mind. you rise, putting on your uniform, the weight of your cloak holding you together.

once you step out of your private tent, larkin is by your side in minutes. he’s quiet, much like last time. you had both grown fond of brienne, and he now had a friend in podrick, making this goodbye harder. your arm sits around his shoulders, muttering to him as you walked around to get breakfast.

larkin’s mood lifts upon seeing his new friend, jogging over to pod and talking animatedly. brienne was sitting a bit away, lost in thought as she ate. you looked her for a moment, taking in the sight of the morning sun casting a dream of light across her face, lighting her up like an angel. you moved to go sit with her, grabbing a pear from the center of a tablet you passed. you sit across from her, and bite into your snack as you wait for her to notice you.

brienne here’s a soft crunch near her, head rising until her eyes meet you. tired eyes, pear in hand, hair still down, you were quite a sight to her. she just smiled lightly while looking at you, you returned it. neither of you spoke, just sitting together, enjoying the last moments before she departed.

you feel eyes on you, turning to see ragnall with pointed eyes, staring holes into your skull. brienne sees your brows furrow, hand going to your ankle. before she can even say ‘don’t,’ a dagger flies through the air and buries itself into the beam he’s resting against, only a hair above his head.

“pay mind to your own business, ya owl-looking fuck. blink once in a while, won’t you?” you seethe, and brienne sees a similar anger from the first time she met you and smiles to herself. the men around ragnall laugh at your comment, one pulling the dagger out and bringing it to you with a ‘nice one.’

brienne finishes her food as you slowly finish your pear. you leave the food tent walking towards the horses, and she follows behind you. your hand comes up to the face of a light brown horse with white splotches across him, he nibbles at you hand in greeting. you grab a folded parchment, grabbing her hand and placing it there, palm flat over it.

“these are preliminary travel routes. they’ll probably change, but you’ll probably still be able to track us down. if- if you wan- if you needed to,” you pull your hands away, locking them behind your back.

brienne looked at the parchment, then you. her voice is soft, “thank you. maybe one day it won’t come to tracking each other down.”

“maybe there will be a time where we travel with each other instead of away,” you almost mumble. brienne’s heart almost couldn’t take it, the way you stared at your feet while you spoke and fluttered your eyelashes. gods, i hope so.

“maybe,” she says back, eyes never leaving you.

saying goodbye to you was going to be harder than last time, she didn’t want to say anything. she wishes she had left before you woke up, so you wouldn’t be able to see the homesickness in her eyes as she got further from you. she lead her horse to the front of the camp while you lead podrick’s, eyes catching each other’s every now and then.

larkin was with podrick, listening closely to whatever he had to say. you looked to brienne, “use the horn, will you? if i start following you now, you’ll never get rid of me.”

she smiles at your words, her voice speaks lowly, “who said i was opposed to that?” your brow raises, eyes looking directly into her. you’re about to comment back, but podrick and larkin make their way over.

you settle for, “goodbye, lady brienne,” you turn, “podrick. safe travels to you both, may we see each other again soon.”

she and podrick hoist themselves onto their horses. she looks at you, her eyes raking over your face, you had hardly slept either it seems.

“thank you, commander,” she smiles tightly, “i’m sure you’ll find a way to keep an eye on us.”

you laugh, “who says i don’t already?”

you approach her horse, petting him gently and you speak to brienne, “i mean it, use that horn if there’s any trouble, if you need anything. even just a meal and a bed, doesn’t have to be battle. please, just… just use the damn horn.”

she leans closer to you, “i promise you,” you’re trying so hard not to faint from the closeness, “and i don’t break promises.”

i said slowburn did i not? also if anyone else would like to be tagged in part 3 (there might be a part 4) just leave a lil comment on here :) feed back appreciated, love ya

tags: @another-unoriginal-username @the-bagel24

#brienne of tarth x reader #brienne x reader #brienne of tarth #game of thrones #brienne of tarth fanfiction #gwendoline christie #larissa weems

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