The day of the tournament! Brienne woke early, filled with nervous energy. She picked at her breakfast without seeing it, then rushed to her room, where Lord Selwyn was waiting for her. "Don't wear yourself out before your big battle," Lord Selwyn told her warmly. "The arena is all prepared for you. Are you ready for your big day?"

"Yes," Brienne smiled confidently. "There are few swordsmen in the land who are my equal, and even fewer who are looking for brides."

"You haven't met every swordsman in the Seven Kingdoms," Lord Selwyn reminded her. "One of them might surprise you, or perhaps several. Who will you marry if more than one defeats you?"

"I'll marry the first to do so. You don't need to be the best fighter to kill the enemy, merely the first."

"You may not be marrying the best fighter then."

"Oh, father," Brienne said affectionately. "I'm quite good with a sword. Any man who beats me will be plenty skilled."

Lord Selwyn cleared his throat, and his eyes were bright. "Your mother would be so proud to see you today. This was your mother's." He handed her a polished blue pin in the shape of the moon. "It's lapiz lazuli, as there are no sapphires on Tarth. I pray that the Warrior will guide your blade, and the Maiden will guide your heart."

Brienne's eyes were also bright with tears as she said, "Thank you father, I'll wear it proudly."

Lord Selwyn nodded. He started to speak, then swallowed. Finally he said in a shaky voice, "I'll leave you now to get ready." Lord Selwyn wiped at his eyes as he left the room.

Brienne put on a fresh linen shirt and trousers. She brushed her hair back, out of her eyes, and fastened it in place with the pin. She stepped up to her cobalt armor. She traced the design on the breastplate with her fingertip. Her finger stopped at the bottom of the V. She stood there, lost in thought with a faint smile on her face.

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The first challenger strutted into the arena with a large feathered plume and a smug expression. "My lady, I am Lord Maximilian Princeton, son of Lord Ebenezer Princeton. I will be gentle as I disarm you-oof!" Brienne punched him hard in the stomach. The crowd cheered.

"That's Ser to you. Next!"

The morning passed slowly.

Brienne fought a nervous young lad. He reminded her of Pod when he first began training, except for how he avoided looking at her face. Annoyance bubbled up in her. When he swung at her, she ducked under his sword and kicked him in the side.

Brienne fought a knight in ornate armor. His shield and breastplate were emblazoned with gilded decorations and crests. He paraded past Lord Selwyn, pointedly displaying his decorations. Brienne knocked his knees out from under him and stepped on his back.

Noontime came and went, with all the guests treated to a grand feast. Brienne ate carefully, just enough to keep her energy high without slowing her down.

The afternoon passed slowly.

Brienne fought a Dornish knight. He was not as strong as her, but agile and skilled with a spear. She thought about letting him win, so she'd at least have someone to train with. He saw her hesitation and pressed forward.

The sunlight glinted off his spear tip and into her eyes, dulling her eyesight. In his place, she saw a familiar vision, charging at her with left arm raised high. The moment passed, and she was again sparring with the Dornish knight. An aching longing filled her chest, and she couldn't bear the thought of marrying him. She knocked his spear aside and threw him to the ground.

Brienne's favorite fight of the day was a little girl, no more than ten years old. Her parents were cheering from the sidelines. She looked up at Brienne with big brown eyes and eagerly announced, "I want to be a big strong knight like you!" Brienne smiled and let her take a few swings. She threw a few slow strikes and let the girl block. Then she neatly disarmed the girl and held out her hand. "Good fight," she told her over a handshake. "Your family is safe with you around! Keep on training." The girl nodded, looking starstruck.

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The sun was low in the sky when the gates opened for the last challenger. Brienne looked curiously at the cloaked figure. Unlike the others, this one was dressed in a plain, dark cloak, unadorned with emblems or sigils. The challenger's face was hidden under a hood, and the cloak shrouded his body from shoulders to boots. Yet something was familiar about his posture and his gait.

The unknown man reached up with his left hand, revealing a flash of gold from under his cloak. With a flourish, he lowered his hood and threw the cloak aside. Brienne and the audience gasped.

"Ser Brienne," Jaime greeted her with a formal nod and a smirk.

"Ser Jaime." Brienne's thoughts were frozen, but she heard herself returning the greeting.

"It's been a while," Jaime said conversationally. His left arm raised his sword, and he crouched ready to strike. He was still smiling.

"What are you doing here?" Brienne warily circled around him with her sword between them.

"I'm here to best you in a swordfight," Jaime replied. "Obviously."

"We both know you can't beat me."

"Oh, I've been practicing." Jaime circled in the opposite direction. "And you've been fighting all day."

"But why are you here?"

"To fight for lordship of House Tarth and your hand."

Brienne couldn't help but roll her eyes. "Don't mock me, Ser Jaime. Why are you really here?" It was so like him, to talk in circles and not give a straight answer. The more she tried to make sense of Jaime, the more confused she got. "I cannot match your tongue, and I cannot make you talk sense, so I'll match you with my sword." Brienne pressed her feet into the dirt and darted forward.

Jaime took a step back as Brienne took a quick jab. He blocked her sword and flicked it back at her. "As I said, I received your father's invitation, and I am here to fight for your hand." He slashed at her and she jumped back. They eyed each other and resumed circling.

"I'm not sure you're aware, that means marrying me."

"Don't be ridiculous. Of course I know that!" Jaime laughed. "I'm a Lannister. Do you really think I got to be an adult Lannister without learning what 'the hand of his daughter in marriage' means?" With that, he leaped forward and unleashed a flurry of sharp, precise strikes. The crowd gasped and cheered. Even with one hand, Jaime was producing a beautiful, graceful performance. He was truly among the best swordfighters in the Seven Kingdoms.

"Sorry. My mistake. I just don't understand why you'd come." Sweat drenched Brienne's neck and back. She blocked and pushed his blade to the side, then slashed downward at him.

Jaime seemed to anticipate the strike. "You shouldn't grimace before you lunge," Jaime said with twinkling eyes. "It gives the game away." He attacked again, pushing her back step by step. Soon she would have her back against a wall.

Gaining the upper hand had emboldened Jaime. "You didn't understand why I rode north to Winterfell either," he said as his blade crashed against hers. "What difference could one man make to the battle? Why would I ride to my death?" He swung his sword in an outward arc, and she twisted to meet it with hers. "I came to Winterfell to find you." Their swords rang as they separated. "And I came to Tarth to find you." He flipped his hand and swung horizontally inward. She angled her blade down and knocked it back. "And I'm fighting you now because. . . . "

"I'M IN LOVE WITH YOU!" Jaime raised his sword high and brought it down with all his might. A great clang echoed around the arena as she blocked with her sword tightly gripped in both hands. They wrestled in place, him bearing down and her pushing up, both panting hard.

His eyes locked upon hers, and he was suddenly lost in her wide-eyed gaze. For a moment he stood in place, stunned.

Brienne abruptly released the pressure on her sword, sending Jaime off balance. She dodged his falling blade and rammed him hard with her shoulder. When he stumbled, she struck his sword decisively and knocked it from his hand.

A hush fell over the crowd. Jaime's expression changed from shock to dismay. But Brienne was smiling when she spoke into the silence. "And I, you. But you'll have to try harder to beat me, and only then will I marry you."

A look of relief, then tender affection spread over Jaime's face. Then a single, slow clap rose up from the stands, which grew to thunderous applause. Soon, the audience was on its feet, screaming and cheering. Lord Selwyn strode onto the field, took Brienne's hand, and raised it to the sky. "May I present! Ser Brienne Tarth! The champion! Of the tournament!"