Sockpuppetry - Brienne and Jo
((This is in response to the sockpuppet challenge of... like... two months ago. I had to write Samwell Tarly/Jo March, but, well, I popcorned Sam, so I hope this will do. Also, I'm not a fic writer in general, so feedback is appreciated. If there is no feedback, then I will have to write an AU smutfic featuring Fabio and Molly Weasley.))
After her frustrating sparring session, Brienne wanted only to relax in her room and avoid
people for a while. Unfortunately, when she arrived at her room, she found this wasn't going
to happen. A tall, gawky young girl was sprawled out on one of the room's other beds,
contentedly reading a book.
Brienne cleared her throat. "Excuse me, but this is my room," she said, the words coming out
more abruptly than she'd meant them to.
The girl swung her legs over the edge of the bed and shook her head. "Actually, sometimes
the house elves change people's rooms at random." She indicated a small plaque on the door.
"See? It's got both our names on it, unless you're someone other than Brienne of Tarth."
Brienne looked where the girl pointed, Sure enough, there was another name on the plaque.
"Then you're Jo March," she said, unsure how to proceed from here. "It's... It's good to
meet you."
Jo smiled, a smile Brienne found impossible not to return. "Oh, how splendid! I've missed
having a roommate. I have three sisters, and we always had each other for company, and now
that I'm at Hogwarts, it seems I spend more time alone than anything else. Oh, there's
Laurie, and of course, Lizzy, but Laurie's a boy and Lizzy's in Ravenclaw."
Brienne let her babble as she shucked off her sword and armor. She couldn't decide whether
the chatter was pleasant or irritating. Certainly it was a bit much to deal with at once.
When Jo stopped speaking for a long moment and seemed to be waiting for an answer, Brienne
arched a questioning eyebrow. "I--I'm sorry, did you ask me something?" she asked, her
cheeks reddening.
Jo didn't seem to take offense. "I just asked if you really could use that sword," she said.
"And I said you sort of reminded me of what I imagine a valkyrie looks like."
Brienne didn't know what a valkyrie was, but she could at least answer the other part of the
question. "Yes, I can use the sword. Its name is Oathkeeper, and it was forged from Valyrian
steel." Not that she'd been keeping those oaths well, she thought sourly.
"That's marvelous." Jo was at her elbow, looking at the discarded bits of Brienne's armor
and staring longest at the sheathed blade. "And it's romantic that the sword has a name...
Like Excalibur."
"All special swords need names," Brienne said simply, finding herself relaxing despite
herself. "But it's not... There's nothing romantic about Oathkeeper."
Jo didn't miss the shadow that flickered across Brienne's homely face, and she wondered if
maybe there was a little too much protesting going on. She determined that she would find
out one way or the other.
"I should very much like to learn how to use a sword," Jo said. "Not that I would... But it
sounds like quite a lark. A fellow named Eragon offered to teach me, but we haven't gotten
around to it yet."
"It's hard work," Brienne said. "Not like needlepoint, which you can just quickly and
lightly pick up on."
Jo scoffed. "You've clearly never done any needlepoint," she rejoined.
Brienne looked down at her big, calloused hands and shook her head. "Not if I could help
it."
Jo nodded. "My sister Beth is much better at that sort of thing than I. I envy her the
patience she has in such abundance, for I haven't any."
Brienne settled back on her bed, finding herself wanting to relax and enjoy the
conversation, despite the fact that she needed to clean up after her afternoon's adventures.
"I never had any sisters," she said. "And I don't remember my mother."
"Oh, that's a shame," said Jo, with real feeling. "I would offer to adopt you as a surrogate
sister, but I already have quite enough of them, and a dirth of suitable boys to adopt as
brothers."
Brienne had no answer for that, and so she said nothing, and presently Jo returned to her
book, allowing Brienne to slip away to clean herself up.
The rest of the evening passed without incident, and Brienne was pleased to learn that Jo
also tended toward bedding down early. They were both settled down for sleep at about the
same time. Jo had just blown out the candle she'd been using to brush out her hair, and
Brienne could hear the rustle of cloth as she made herself comfortable.
"Brienne?" Jo whispered in the darkness.
"Yes?" Brienne lay stiffly on her own bed, having not given up the custom of sleeping in
boiled leather.
"Have you ever kissed anyone?"
The question so startled Brienne that she banged her head against the headboard of the bed
as she sat up. "What?" Rubbing the knot on the back of her head, she stared across at where
she knew Jo was. "What makes you ask?"
"No reason." Brienne could hear the lie in the girl's voice. "I just wondered... because
you're older... I'm sorry I asked. It was a terribly impertinent question."
"No." Brienne hastened to reassure. "It wasn't. I was just startled." She thought over her
life back in Westeros and shook her head. "No," she said softly. "I haven't kissed anyone...
until I came here, and then... It doesn't count because Jaime thought he was kissing the
queen."
"What... What was it like?" Jo whispered, and from the rustle of bedclothes Brienne knew she
was sitting up, too.
"It was... intense," Brienne said slowly. "Intense and wonderful, but it hurt so much."
"I don't think it's supposed to hurt," Jo ventured timidly. "I thought the whole idea was
not to use teeth."
Brienne shook her head. "We didn't use teeth," she said, surprised herself by the laugh in
her voice. "I just... I haven't seen him since."
Jo sighed sadly. "Oh, dear, that's not good." She paused a beat. "I should like to kiss
Laurie. Just to see what it's like. I think Mr. Brooke kisses Meg sometimes, and... well, I
shouldn't want to kiss Mr. Brooke, but Meg always looks so rosy and cheerful afterwords that
it sounds rather pleasant."
Brienne smiled a little sadly. "Well, then I think you should see if this Laurie is
amenable." She suppressed the need to sigh and shifted restlessly, trying to regain a
comfortable position in the bed. She'd managed to put Jaime from her mind so far, but that
kiss brought everything back sharply and painfully. She knew she ought to owl him, to at
least let him know she was here, but she didn't know what she'd say, and she couldn't bear
the contempt he would feel knowing she was desperate *and* a fool.
Miserably, she closed her eyes, listening to Jo's steady, even breathing, and wishing she
had the younger girl's cheerful naivete. But too many years as the big, awkward maid of
Tarth had stripped her of any innocence she might have had.
Still... Perhaps there was hope for her. She wasn't in Westeros anymore. She was somewhere
completely different, and maybe she should try to figure out who she was. How she would do
that, she had no idea, but it seemed a much less bleak prospect than pining forever over
what she couldn't have.
Having thus given herself a pep talk, she drifted off into a sleep that was nonetheless full of hungry, wanting dreams of Jaime and the brief illusion she'd had that things might have been different.
After her frustrating sparring session, Brienne wanted only to relax in her room and avoid
people for a while. Unfortunately, when she arrived at her room, she found this wasn't going
to happen. A tall, gawky young girl was sprawled out on one of the room's other beds,
contentedly reading a book.
Brienne cleared her throat. "Excuse me, but this is my room," she said, the words coming out
more abruptly than she'd meant them to.
The girl swung her legs over the edge of the bed and shook her head. "Actually, sometimes
the house elves change people's rooms at random." She indicated a small plaque on the door.
"See? It's got both our names on it, unless you're someone other than Brienne of Tarth."
Brienne looked where the girl pointed, Sure enough, there was another name on the plaque.
"Then you're Jo March," she said, unsure how to proceed from here. "It's... It's good to
meet you."
Jo smiled, a smile Brienne found impossible not to return. "Oh, how splendid! I've missed
having a roommate. I have three sisters, and we always had each other for company, and now
that I'm at Hogwarts, it seems I spend more time alone than anything else. Oh, there's
Laurie, and of course, Lizzy, but Laurie's a boy and Lizzy's in Ravenclaw."
Brienne let her babble as she shucked off her sword and armor. She couldn't decide whether
the chatter was pleasant or irritating. Certainly it was a bit much to deal with at once.
When Jo stopped speaking for a long moment and seemed to be waiting for an answer, Brienne
arched a questioning eyebrow. "I--I'm sorry, did you ask me something?" she asked, her
cheeks reddening.
Jo didn't seem to take offense. "I just asked if you really could use that sword," she said.
"And I said you sort of reminded me of what I imagine a valkyrie looks like."
Brienne didn't know what a valkyrie was, but she could at least answer the other part of the
question. "Yes, I can use the sword. Its name is Oathkeeper, and it was forged from Valyrian
steel." Not that she'd been keeping those oaths well, she thought sourly.
"That's marvelous." Jo was at her elbow, looking at the discarded bits of Brienne's armor
and staring longest at the sheathed blade. "And it's romantic that the sword has a name...
Like Excalibur."
"All special swords need names," Brienne said simply, finding herself relaxing despite
herself. "But it's not... There's nothing romantic about Oathkeeper."
Jo didn't miss the shadow that flickered across Brienne's homely face, and she wondered if
maybe there was a little too much protesting going on. She determined that she would find
out one way or the other.
"I should very much like to learn how to use a sword," Jo said. "Not that I would... But it
sounds like quite a lark. A fellow named Eragon offered to teach me, but we haven't gotten
around to it yet."
"It's hard work," Brienne said. "Not like needlepoint, which you can just quickly and
lightly pick up on."
Jo scoffed. "You've clearly never done any needlepoint," she rejoined.
Brienne looked down at her big, calloused hands and shook her head. "Not if I could help
it."
Jo nodded. "My sister Beth is much better at that sort of thing than I. I envy her the
patience she has in such abundance, for I haven't any."
Brienne settled back on her bed, finding herself wanting to relax and enjoy the
conversation, despite the fact that she needed to clean up after her afternoon's adventures.
"I never had any sisters," she said. "And I don't remember my mother."
"Oh, that's a shame," said Jo, with real feeling. "I would offer to adopt you as a surrogate
sister, but I already have quite enough of them, and a dirth of suitable boys to adopt as
brothers."
Brienne had no answer for that, and so she said nothing, and presently Jo returned to her
book, allowing Brienne to slip away to clean herself up.
The rest of the evening passed without incident, and Brienne was pleased to learn that Jo
also tended toward bedding down early. They were both settled down for sleep at about the
same time. Jo had just blown out the candle she'd been using to brush out her hair, and
Brienne could hear the rustle of cloth as she made herself comfortable.
"Brienne?" Jo whispered in the darkness.
"Yes?" Brienne lay stiffly on her own bed, having not given up the custom of sleeping in
boiled leather.
"Have you ever kissed anyone?"
The question so startled Brienne that she banged her head against the headboard of the bed
as she sat up. "What?" Rubbing the knot on the back of her head, she stared across at where
she knew Jo was. "What makes you ask?"
"No reason." Brienne could hear the lie in the girl's voice. "I just wondered... because
you're older... I'm sorry I asked. It was a terribly impertinent question."
"No." Brienne hastened to reassure. "It wasn't. I was just startled." She thought over her
life back in Westeros and shook her head. "No," she said softly. "I haven't kissed anyone...
until I came here, and then... It doesn't count because Jaime thought he was kissing the
queen."
"What... What was it like?" Jo whispered, and from the rustle of bedclothes Brienne knew she
was sitting up, too.
"It was... intense," Brienne said slowly. "Intense and wonderful, but it hurt so much."
"I don't think it's supposed to hurt," Jo ventured timidly. "I thought the whole idea was
not to use teeth."
Brienne shook her head. "We didn't use teeth," she said, surprised herself by the laugh in
her voice. "I just... I haven't seen him since."
Jo sighed sadly. "Oh, dear, that's not good." She paused a beat. "I should like to kiss
Laurie. Just to see what it's like. I think Mr. Brooke kisses Meg sometimes, and... well, I
shouldn't want to kiss Mr. Brooke, but Meg always looks so rosy and cheerful afterwords that
it sounds rather pleasant."
Brienne smiled a little sadly. "Well, then I think you should see if this Laurie is
amenable." She suppressed the need to sigh and shifted restlessly, trying to regain a
comfortable position in the bed. She'd managed to put Jaime from her mind so far, but that
kiss brought everything back sharply and painfully. She knew she ought to owl him, to at
least let him know she was here, but she didn't know what she'd say, and she couldn't bear
the contempt he would feel knowing she was desperate *and* a fool.
Miserably, she closed her eyes, listening to Jo's steady, even breathing, and wishing she
had the younger girl's cheerful naivete. But too many years as the big, awkward maid of
Tarth had stripped her of any innocence she might have had.
Still... Perhaps there was hope for her. She wasn't in Westeros anymore. She was somewhere
completely different, and maybe she should try to figure out who she was. How she would do
that, she had no idea, but it seemed a much less bleak prospect than pining forever over
what she couldn't have.
Having thus given herself a pep talk, she drifted off into a sleep that was nonetheless full of hungry, wanting dreams of Jaime and the brief illusion she'd had that things might have been different.