Game of Thrones - Brienne/Lady Stoneheart - It's my duty
Title: It's my duty
Fandom: Game of Thrones
Pairing: Brienne/Lady Stoneheart
Wordcount: 234
Rating: PG
Challenge: Drabbletag 6 - duty
Challenge: 100_women - last
Brienne tries to hide her uneasiness. Every time she hears her Lady speak, a cold shiver runs down her spine. The raspy voice, the harsh words, the hate and bitterness …
But the tall woman wouldn’t dare to let anyone know. Not because she knows what happens to people that betray Lady Stoneheart, but because there is nothing more important to Brienne than honor. And honor comes with fulfilling one’s duty.
“Brienne,” the rasp can be heard as the last man leaves the Lady’s tent and Brienne swallows.
“Yes, Mylady?”
“I’m cold.”
‘You’re always cold,’ Brienne wants to say, but holds her tongue. Instead she lays her sword aside and abandons her armor, slowly, taking as much time as she dares but not as much as she’d wish to.
Then she crawls to her Lady under the furs, sharing her warmth. She’s alive, blood pumping through her veins, and Lady Stoneheart feeds off that, loves to listen to the heartbeat, loves to feel the heat radiating from her.
‘It’s my duty,’ Brienne says to herself as she feels the cold white flesh, still soft and kind of soggy.
‘It’s my duty,’ Brienne says to herself as she feels the white rough hair - what’s left of it - that still smells like muddy water.
‘It’s my duty’ is the last thought that fills her mind as she falls into another troubled sleep haunted by nightmares of drowning.
Fandom: Game of Thrones
Pairing: Brienne/Lady Stoneheart
Wordcount: 234
Rating: PG
Challenge: Drabbletag 6 - duty
Challenge: 100_women - last
Brienne tries to hide her uneasiness. Every time she hears her Lady speak, a cold shiver runs down her spine. The raspy voice, the harsh words, the hate and bitterness …
But the tall woman wouldn’t dare to let anyone know. Not because she knows what happens to people that betray Lady Stoneheart, but because there is nothing more important to Brienne than honor. And honor comes with fulfilling one’s duty.
“Brienne,” the rasp can be heard as the last man leaves the Lady’s tent and Brienne swallows.
“Yes, Mylady?”
“I’m cold.”
‘You’re always cold,’ Brienne wants to say, but holds her tongue. Instead she lays her sword aside and abandons her armor, slowly, taking as much time as she dares but not as much as she’d wish to.
Then she crawls to her Lady under the furs, sharing her warmth. She’s alive, blood pumping through her veins, and Lady Stoneheart feeds off that, loves to listen to the heartbeat, loves to feel the heat radiating from her.
‘It’s my duty,’ Brienne says to herself as she feels the cold white flesh, still soft and kind of soggy.
‘It’s my duty,’ Brienne says to herself as she feels the white rough hair - what’s left of it - that still smells like muddy water.
‘It’s my duty’ is the last thought that fills her mind as she falls into another troubled sleep haunted by nightmares of drowning.