The Red Bear and the Blue Lady

A/N - Merry Christmas and Happy Holidays to all of you still sticking around after this horribly long wait!It's been a hard time getting my thoughts together to do much-needed updates on ANY of my works. Since last I did, I relocated from Illinois to New York in pursuit of a job. I am still getting used to my new surroundings and learning about how things work around here. The job was an adjustment, as were the people, so my mind hasn't been still enough to settle and let the ideas flow. Stress can kill creativity, at least for a while. I'm hoping my Muse will stay for a while and stop eluding me. Anyway, I hope you all like this, and that the fight isn't too anticlimactic. Please let me know. I thrive on feedback.

Thanks for reading, as always!

Ch. 7

"Father, you cannot be serious!" Brienne was incredulous. Her father had challenged Tormund to a duel. There was no way he could think to win. Tormund was large, fierce, and strong, and though Lord Selwyn was a warrior in his own right, his days of vanquishing enemies of Tormund's ilk were done.

He had no chance. Surely he knew that!

Though she didn't want to offend her lord father's pride or sense of honor, she had to convince him not to take this foolish course of action. "There is no need. You've already agreed that we can marry. Of what use is a duel?"

"He must prove himself," her father answered, his eyes steely with resolve. "I am determined to see that he is strong enough to defend you from your enemies, that he will answer disrespect of his wife with force if need be."

She tried again to convince him, but when he proved more stubborn than a mule, she decided to be blunt. "Father, he will kill you!"

Lord Selwyn's eyes turned to her face, his eyebrows raised. Brienne instantly felt remorse. She shouldn't have said it that way, regardless of how truthful her words were. She was about to apologize profusely when his next words stopped her.

"Little girl," he said in admonishment. "What are you thinking? It is not I who will fight the Wildling." He snorted as he turned back to look at Tormund in his tall, brawny glory. "Surely not. I would certainly lose."

Brienne was confused. "Then who…?"

Her father looked at her as though she were slow-witted. "Why...you, of course, dear."

"What?! Me? But why?" Brienne's mouth hung open as she looked at him, his expression decidedly smug.

"Do you not remember what you told old Ser Humphrey Wagstaff, when he told you he'd make a lady of you were you to marry him? He said he would absolutely forbid you to touch a sword once you were his wife."

Brienne's lips turned up in a sneer at the memory. "I told him the only way I would agree to such a life was if he could defeat me in combat. I refused to submit to a man weaker than me." Her eyes widened when she realized how her words had damned her.

Lord Selwyn beamed. "Exactly. You will test this man and see if he is worthy of you."

"But fath—"

"Naturally," he interrupted. "It will only be to first blood, or stopped in the event one of you yields. I would not have either of you seriously hurt."

Brienne shook her head, shifting her gaze to Tormund. "I do not think this is necessary." Her breath caught at the expression on her betrothed's face. His mouth was pulled up in a grin of anticipation, his fingers flexing as though he were trying to loosen them up, as if spoiling for a fight.

Tormund was actually excited about this!

He winked at her, his eyes shining. Brienne frowned at him before turning from both men in a huff and marching from the room. She needed to be alone, to calm down from the foolishness her father had involved her in.

Of course she would honor his wishes, but it was all such nonsense. She wanted to marry Tormund, and he her. What difference would a duel make? But then she thought of her years growing up, of her father constantly having to defend her when some foppish lord insulted her.

Brienne sighed. He was only making sure Tormund could take his place in that role, as her protector and shield. He would certainly be taking an unusual woman to wife.

Partnered with the fact that he would be a Wildling made into nobility, he needed to prepare himself to answer the inevitable affronts that would come against her, against them both.

She sighed, shaking her head. Oh, father. He was growing old, frail, and Brienne knew one day soon he would join her mother, brother, and sisters. Soon she would be the only Tarth that remained, and if a man truly wanted to walk by her side, he needed to be strong. He needed to be worthy.

Her father was right.

Feeling suddenly sad and weary, Brienne went to her chambers, lying down on her bed to rest and think. Soon, she was fast asleep.

When she woke, the sun had set, and night darkened the corners of her room. Coming to a sitting position, Brienne considered how long she'd been asleep. Surely her father would have sent someone to fetch her? Where was Tormund?

She went down to the main hall, and there they were, her father and would-be betrothed, talking as if old friends. Each had a cup of what was most likely her father's favorite mead.

They quieted at her approach. "Did you rest well, daughter?" her father asked with a smile.

Brienne considered him before answering. Somehow the two seemed suspicious. "I did, father. I trust you and Tormund have become…better acquainted?"

"We have," he responded. Rising, he moved towards the kitchen. "I'll have someone get you something to drink, perhaps some fruit." He disappeared through the door.

Brienne turned her gaze on Tormund, who wore a grin that raised her hackles. "What were you talking about?" she asked.

Tormund's grin grew. "You. Your father told me about some of your suitors. I don't know about him, but I'm glad they failed. Now, you can be mine."

Her face heated at the possessive words and determined tone to his voice. But his next words quickly broke the spell.

"You can yield now if you want," Tormund said matter-of-factly. "We don't have to fight. I would much rather love you than hurt you."

Stiffening her shoulders, she glared at him. "What makes you think you would hurt me?"

Tormund chuckled. "Oh, come on," he said in jest. "We both know I'm bigger, stronger, and much more likely to win in a fight. I'm a Wildling. Our fights are bloody and savage. You couldn't challenge me."

Brienne gave him a surly smile in return. "You have no idea how I fight. I've bested knights and brigands of all types, all of them believing they would never fall to a woman." She smiled as her father returned with some wine and strawberries for her.

Taking the offered goblet and biting into the fruit, she chewed slowly, staring at Tormund. She smiled again, the expression more a baring of teeth than anything. "We shall see, Wildling," she murmured ominously, and Tormund was suddenly filled with unease.

"We will duel on the morn," she added. "Then we will see who will be hurt."

Tormund glanced at Lord Selwyn, who smiled knowingly. He knew that determined look on his daughter's face. The Wildling would have his work cut out for him.

The trio sat and drank, making conversation on various topics. All the while, the impending duel sat over them like a cloud. Before long, Brienne rose, ready to retire for the night. She was tired despite her nap, and kissed her father goodnight. Glancing at Tormund with a smile, she departed.

She was changed and lying in bed when her lover knocked at her chamber door later that evening. When she called for him to enter, Tormund opened the door and slipped in.

"Come to beg for mercy?" Brienne joked, sitting up in bed. Tormund came to sit by her as she shifted over.

"I came to say goodnight to the woman I will claim tomorrow."

"You are truly certain you will win," Brienne observed. "Do I seem so weak?"

"No," he answered. "But I will still win." He smiled gleefully.

Brienne laughed despite herself. "Oh, I cannot wait to humble you in the morning."

Grin still in place, Tormund moved his hand, sliding it up her neck to cup the strong angle of her jaw. "I think I will enjoy that," he noted before pulling her in for a kiss.

Her lips were soft beneath his, and with gentle urging, she opened for his tongue. His other arm wound around her, moving her body in to close the distance between them.

Brienne sighed against him, her arms snaking around his thick neck. She was nearly lost to his kiss, but as his hand eased downward, destined for the hem of her night shift, she pulled away.

At his half-lidded, dazed look, Brienne shook her head. "We are in my father's house now, my love," she cajoled her disappointed lover. "He will most certainly not approve of us sharing a bed under his roof. Best not to anger him, especially when we have only barely earned his approval as it is."

Tormund's breaths were heavy, and he closed his eyes in an attempt to calm the lust racing through him. He had initially come to say goodnight, and to wish his betrothed luck.

But the light from the flickering flames in the hearth had painted Brienne's skin with a golden glow that made her eyes shine and her hair gleam in the muted light. And her lips, pink and pouting, had beaconed him. He'd been unable to resist touching her.

Opening his eyes, he stared at the mouth that even now enticed him. His hands gripped her hips through the blankets that covered her. Hooded, green eyes wandered lower, to the cradle of her femininity, hidden under covers stuffed with goose down.

"Can't I have a taste?" he asked, desire deepening his husky voice.

Brienne saw where his gaze settled, and she felt her body respond in kind. She knew they really shouldn't. She glanced at the door, her mind debating. Maybe, if they were quiet…

It was wrong, but Tormund was good at pleasing her…very good. When she turned back, he was looking directly into her face. "A taste," he reiterated. "That's all." He watched her face for his answer.

She blinked at him a few times before her eyes softened. It was all the answer Tormund needed. His hands slipped the sheets from her within seconds, and before Brienne knew it, she was writhing, a hand over her mouth to stifle the moans and whimpers that threatened.

Soon, his tongue, lips, and fingers pushed her over the edge. She quickly turned her face into her pillow, her long, guttural moans reaching a crescendo. When the spasms finally ceased, she turned away to find Tormund grinning down at her with jovial, almost innocent green eyes.

Her eyes lowered to his lap, where the bulge of his arousal protruded. When she tried to reach for him, he rose from the bed. "But..?"

"Just a taste, remember?" he asked as he gave her one last kiss. She could smell herself on his face, taste it on him, and her body still wanted him. But he grinned as he turned, letting himself quietly out the door.

"See you in the morning," he murmured, closing the door behind him.

Brienne let herself lie back with a huff. It would likely take a while before she could sleep. All the better. Perhaps the frustration would be fuel for her fight tomorrow.

The morning dawned foggy and cool as everyone took their places. Brienne stretched her limbs, readying her body and making sure her armor was adjusted properly. Without Pod, who knew her better than any when it came to her armaments, she had to coach one of the other squires to help her.

So far, all was as it should be. The boy wasn't perfect, but he would do.

Her gaze shifted as a tall, muscular figure emerged from the fog. Green eyes lanced her as Tormund walked into the courtyard, a smirk adorning his face.

Brienne lifted an eyebrow. Perhaps he wasn't taking her seriously. It became painfully clear when he walked…no, sauntered, over to the area where one of her father's men waited to serve as his second.

The young man looked intimidated, probably hadn't seen a Wildling before in his life. He watched Tormund intently, listening for any instructions. But Tormund ignored him, stretching his shoulders and shaking out his neck in anticipation of the fight to come.

Satisfied that he was ready, he once again grinned at Brienne. "You can give up now if you want, lass," he called out, the very picture of confidence. "I won't think less of you if you do." He laughed when she frowned at him.

Without a word, Brienne donned her helm and pulled Oathkeeper from its sheath. She had wanted to use wooden practice swords, but Tormund had insisted on steel, assured that he couldn't possibly lose.

She would have to show him just how wrong he was. It wouldn't be the first time she was underestimated by a man.

Once the two combatants were ready, Lord Selwyn approached. He checked over his daughter's armor and nodded in approval before moving to Tormund and ensuring he was ready.

Walking to what served as the center of the bout, he raised both arms. "This melee will be to first blood or until one combatant yields to the other. You are to avoid strikes to vital areas if at all possible to avoid accidents. I will serve as the impartial officiate and will give no advantage to either party, regardless of my relation to Brienne. Agreed?"

Tormund nodded. He wasn't completely sure what "impartial" and "officiate" meant, but if agreeing meant the fight would finally begin, he was more than ready to do so. He was eager to see just how great a fighter his Brienne was.

What better way to judge than by meeting her blade with his own?

True he didn't expect much of a fight. It would only go to first blood, and he hardly expected either of them to go all out, considering they loved each other. But he hoped to at least get a taste of her prowess.

He beckoned to Brienne one last time. "Are you sure you don't wish to yield, love?" he asked with a smirk, waggling his eyebrows. "Last chance."

Her hand squeezed hard on the grip of her sword. "Let us begin," she hissed, causing Tormund to chuckle.

Having stated the rules and received the fighters' understanding, Lord Selwyn stepped back, dropping his arms. "Begin!"

Brienne advanced, as did Tormund, and they met near the center of the courtyard. Tormund's eyes flew wide as she continued her advance, moving aggressively at him, sword raised. She came down hard with Oathkeeper, breaking Tormund's guard.

As he recovered, Brienne pushed forward, shoving her shoulder hard into his chest, nearly knocking him off his feet entirely. He stumbled back, and managed to regain his footing, regarding his lover with surprise and a newfound respect.

She in turn stared as she stood in place, her gaze cutting him almost as her sword would.

Her blue eyes were like ice, warrior's eyes, and Tormund realized that she was to be taken seriously, or he would lose this fight. That in mind, he steeled himself for another attack. "Come on, then," he said, his voice a growl.

With a shout, Brienne came after him, driving her sword in a down stroke, intent on breaking his guard once again. Tormund had learned his lesson however, and this time he was ready for her.

He parried, his blade meeting hers with a deafening clang as he warded her off. Again and again she struck at him, and he defended himself much the same. He had to admit, it was as challenging as if he were facing another man. She truly was a force to be reckoned with.

Lord Selwyn watched closely, looking for either of them to gain the advantage. He hid his pride in his daughter, even as his heart smiled. Brienne was amazing. Her blows were heavy and precise, a testament to the many years of harrowing training he had put her through. The lessons certainly hadn't been wasted. That's my girl.

He only hoped she didn't frighten the Wildling away. He knew how men were, and a man's pride could cow him from taking a bride who could compete with him in combat.

Brienne's blade rang against Tormund's a half dozen more times before he finally made his own offensive move. He put all his strength into one last parry, knocking Brienne's blade outward, leaving her exposed. Before she could recover, he rushed forward, tackling his lover roughly to the ground.

Oathkeeper flew from her hand on impact, and Tormund used that advantage to point his own sword at her throat as he straddled her legs. "Do you yield?"

She was breathing hard, her chest rising and falling laboriously even in her armor. Her eyes pinned him, and he knew without a doubt that the fight was not over. This was proven a moment later, when she violently bucked her hips beneath him, toppling him off and to the side.

The fight became a grappling match as Brienne quickly used Tormund's momentary incapacitation to snag his sword. She tried to rip it from his hand, but he held on, and the two fought over the blade.

When his head was flung back by a blow to his chin, Tormund coughed, as much from surprise as from the blow itself. He couldn't believe she'd struck him! He had to admit, the girl could throw a decent punch.

Deciding it was time to end this fight, Tormund threw his weight, flipping their position so that Brienne was once again beneath him. Before he could press his advantage, he froze.

She had drawn a dagger, from where he could not say, and pressed it to his throat. He could feel the blade, its tip poised to bite through flesh and wound him. His eyes moved to her face. She was deadly serious, even as she drew labored breaths, winded by their struggle.

"Do you yield?" she asked breathlessly.

"Do you?" he breathed, pushing his own blade into her armpit, applying the barest of pressure so that she could feel it. Brienne gasped. She hadn't even seen his blade change position!

It would appear they were at an impasse. Pride demanded she fight on, but she saw no feasible way out of this. Tormund was determined as well, his jaw hard, stubborn. Neither wanted to be the first to accept defeat.

"It would seem this match is over," Lord Selwyn declared, smiling, thankful to stop the contest before things got out of control. "We have a draw." He waited for the two to rise. Brienne had definitely met her match in the big Wildling, who proved to be just as tenacious as his beloved daughter.

Only when Tormund withdrew his blade did Brienne finally pull her dagger from his throat. The two struggled to their feet, neither wanting to appear defeated. Her father patted them both on their backs, his amused expression belying the tension between them.

"You both did very well," he said. "I haven't seen such an evenly-matched pair in a long time." He turned to Tormund, giving his hand a shake. "Sir, I have full confidence that you are a fitting partner for my Brienne. You have my blessing to take her for your wife."

With that, the Lord of Evenfall went inside his keep, leaving the two lovers to watch after him in bafflement. When their gazes finally met, Tormund's stern expression gave way to his usual mischievous smirk.

Brienne narrowed her eyes at him. "I would have beaten you anyway," she harrumphed as she reclaimed her sword and walked away purposefully, taking the same path her father did, her substitute squire running to catch up.

Tormund shook his head, proud and amused by his bull-headed betrothed. At least their marriage would never suffer from boredom. She would give as hard as she got, never letting him have the upper hand if she could help it.

He looked forward to it.