Brienne had written to her father that morning announcing her betrothal to Jaime. She could not marry Hunt. Hyle Hunt was never the worst of them, he was very matter of fact in his proposals, and he never made a play at her emotions, which she found more palatable than the others.
How he had survived Lady Stoneheart's gallows she didn't know, she did not mind admitting there was relief knowing he was alive. It was curious that he had travelled to Tarth and had the gall to request her hand directly from her father. Perhaps it was a plea on her father's part for her to return home, it had been too long since she had looked upon his face. She hoped he would make the effort to visit her for the wedding. Brienne bit her lip, an attempt to stifle the grin coming to her face. She had never truly thought she would marry, had purposely gone years parrying proposals, and now he heart fluttered whenever she thought of Jaime and becoming his wife. He knew who she was, and he welcomed it.
They had both been too excited to focus on the tedious scrolls after the events of the morning. She sent her note of refusal on the wings of a raven, off to Tarth, and they made their way to the yards, sparring until mid-day.
They both desperately needed to exert themselves and fought with a mixture of fervour and playfulness. Jaime shamelessly teasing and joking in between blows, and Brienne found herself laughing barely managing to block, a cheap tactic of his that usually had no effect, but her mood was a happy one after the morning's events. Brienne knew they must have made a giddy sight to the spectators that gathered to watch.
During her time at Casterly Rock Brienne recognized that Jaime's servants and attendees where no different than all the others she had encountered in her life, they looked at her strangely, and made no efforts to befriend her. There had been many occasions when she would enter a room and women who had been chirping and giggling would become tight lipped once they saw her. They probably couldn't fathom their gorgeous Jaime Lannister with this large, muscular, and disfigured woman. When Brienne was with him, especially when they were sparring she thought little of her appearance; her work with the sword had always been a relief, something she was good at, something no one could deny. Hurtful words and strange glances from looker-on's obliviated by the sounds of their clashing swords.
When they had finished their sparring, they were covered in sweat grinning and breathing heavy. He surprised her suddenly with a kiss, full and passionate upon her lips. When he released her, he winked, turned on his heel and left her stupefied and standing in the yard. Brienne stood blushing; he had never been so brazen to show his affections for her in such a public manner. She reluctantly gave a brief glance to those who had been watching their sparring. An assortment of reactions met her, some with knowing smiles; others surprised and lifted eyebrows, even a few expressions of jealousy from some of the other women. Brienne gulped, put her head down, moved a hand through her hair and quickened her pace back to her quarters. The spectators silently watched her as she hurried away.
Brienne made her way to her room and shut the door behind her, thankful for the heavy weight of the wood against her back. Brienne made her way to the large basin in her room; she was drenched in sweat from her session with Jaime in the yard and needed to change. With each article of clothing she removed she discovered a bruise or mark, reminders of her fights in the yard with Jaime, she smiled as the tips of her fingers lightly touched one yellowing bruise at her ribs, he had pushed into her hard and she had answered with a head butt, when he stumbled back she had taken the opportunity to best him, holding her blade to his throat and demanded he yield. He had done so with a reluctant smile, dropping his sword and holding his hand to his temple where their heads had collided. She had seen the blood falling from his forehead and dropped her sword, ripping at her tunic to make a bandage.
Most days she was the victor in their spars, but he was steadily narrowing her victories, soon they would be evenly matched, and then Brienne wasn't certain she could beat him if he kept up his rate of progression.
Once washed and changed Brienne made her way to the library where she knew Lady Sansa would be absorbed. The little lady often spent the majority of her days in the impressive Lannister library. Brienne would never say that Lady Sansa seemed happy, but she did seem much more content in the last few weeks. Sharing the tale of her mother's fate had been extremely difficult, but if there was any saving grace to Jaime's combat with Robert Strong it was that such a thing could be possible. That her poor dead mother could be reanimated, that their story could hold some truth. For the weeks that followed Lady Sansa had taken all her meals in her room, eventually as time wore on she made her way out and found the library. It was there that Brienne found her sitting in a chair, her legs curled up beneath her a large tome spread over her lap.
"A book of hero's legends, My Lady?" Brienne asked.
Sansa looked up from her book and then back down again. "No, I don't care much for those anymore. This one is about useful healing herbs and plants." It sounded very dull to Brienne, but she was glad Sansa was not alone in her room.
They had mutually decided that it was best for Sansa to stay at Casterly Rock until the North had calmed some, there were too many unknown dangers and risks, and the sad truth was Lady Sansa didn't really have anywhere else to go. Word had spread of Jaime's victory at King's Landing over the Queen's champion and it had given them both hope that it would help to quell Stoneheart's anger, and any planned retribution. Casterly Rock was most certainly the safest place for them all, and although it was easy to forget, she was Tyrion's wife, this home was hers as well. No one had heard from Jaime's brother, no one knew if he was alive or dead. Sansa did not seem to be concerned either way.
"I came to share news with you, I hope you will be happy for me," Brienne interrupted Sansa's reading.
The girl looked up impassively.
"Jaime and I have decided to wed." Brienne bit her lip again to keep that foolish grin from setting upon her face. She needn't have tried so hard, the words that fell from Sansa's mouth aptly wiped it away.
"So I suppose the rumours weren't completely unfounded?" Sansa looked back down at her book, turning a page. "Is that all?"
Brienne wasn't sure what she had been expecting by sharing this news with Sansa. The girl barely spoke unless asked a question, and when she did speak it was always direct, like she was trying to get the conversation over as quickly as possible. Brienne had a realization that this is probably how most people perceived her. Her words too were always curt, mostly because she was too afraid of being hurt in some way over her own awkwardness. It was strange to think that this beautiful girl could ever feel the same as Brienne, they had both experienced more than their share of pain and hurt.
Brienne stood to leave, feeling helpless and not confident in her abilities to stitch together the necessary words of kindness to reach out to the girl. A sudden impulse stopped her from leaving the room. Brienne turned and knelt at Sansa's chair, the girl looked up shocked.
"What are you doing?" Her brow furrowed in confusion.
"Sansa I'm sorry for all your hardships, I'm sorry for what happened to your family. To live through this much loss and pain is unjust, and unfair. You most certainly did not deserve this, and I think it must be incredibly cruel to now live under the roof of the family who wrought this misery down upon your head. I am sorry for that." Brienne looked at the girl the entire time she spoke, hoping her eyes would convey her sincerity. Without warning the girl's face crumpled and a few silent tears came upon her cheeks, a small cry escaped her mouth. Brienne grabbed her and hugged her close, Sansa's sobbing body convulsing against her.
Brienne held the girl for some time, and when she looked Jaime was standing at the door, his expression she could not read.