Author's Note: A few months ago, a reader on AO3, Nemesi221, asked if she could translate this story into Italian. She has been doing an amazing job of translating this work, and I am eternally grateful. For that reason, I have decided to dedicate this fic to her. Thank you, Nemesi221, for all your kind words, hard work, and enthusiasm for this story! It means more to me than you'll ever know.

For anyone who is interested, the translation can be found on the Italian fanfiction site EFP.

Chapter Forty-three

That night, Brienne slept alone in her own bedchamber, her father's presence at the Red Keep precluding her from spending the night with Jaime. Although Selwyn had never asked if she was still a maid, Brienne didn't want to give him any reason to think otherwise. So after dinner, she and Jaime said goodnight with little more than a chaste kiss and went their separate ways.

The following morning, Brienne awoke in her own bed, a smile on her face as she turned toward the warm rays of sunlight streaming in through the open window. She'd honestly never believed that this day would come, and now that it had, she could barely contain her happiness.

Filled with nervous energy, Brienne climbed out of bed and went to the window, breathing in the fresh morning air as she gazed out upon Blackwater Bay below. The day couldn't have been more beautiful. The sun was shining brightly, and there wasn't a single cloud in the azure blue sky.

Brienne wrapped her arms around herself and closed her eyes, taking a moment to simply enjoy the quiet. Once the day began in earnest, there would be no time for solitude or reflection. The next several hours promised to be a whirlwind of activity and heightened emotion, and Brienne wanted a little time to herself before it all began.

But Brienne's peace could not last forever, and far too soon, there was a knock at her chamber door.

Brienne opened her eyes and turned around. For a single instant, she both hoped and feared that it was Jaime, come to steal a private moment before the wedding. Brienne held her breath as she asked, "Who is it?"

"It is the Queen in the North," Sansa replied in an overly dramatic voice, a clear sign that she was in an unusually playful mood.

Brienne heaved a heavy sigh that was half relief, half disappointment. "Come in, Your Grace."

The door opened, and Sansa entered the room, followed by an army of servants carrying a vast array of lotions and perfumes, buckets of water, and a large copper tub.

"What is all this for?" Brienne asked in near astonishment, afraid that she was about to spend the rest of the morning being scrubbed, scented, and fawned over whether she liked it or not.

"Just a few essentials," Sansa answered. "It's only a few hours until the wedding, and we haven't any time to waste."

It indeed took several hours until Sansa was finally satisfied with Brienne's appearance. The ice-blue gown looked even lovelier than it had during Brienne's last fitting, the silken fabric hugging her curves in ways she had never imagined possible. Gazing at herself in the long mirror that had been brought in from Sansa's chamber, Brienne could barely believe that she was staring back at her own reflection. In the course of a few short hours, she'd been transformed from a hardened knight into a fairytale princess, a ringlet of blue forget-me-nots for her crown.

Once the servants had all filed out of the room, Sansa turned to admire her handiwork. "You look stunning," she said with no small amount of pride. "I daresay, Jaime Lannister is going to be speechless the moment he sets eyes on you."

Brienne's cheeks flushed with color as she turned away from the mirror, overwhelmed by her own transformation. "The dress is absolutely beautiful," she said, barely able to catch her breath. "I would not look nearly as lovely if it wasn't for all your hard work."

Sansa shook her head. "The dress may be beautiful, but you're even more beautiful, Brienne. Look at you. You're practically glowing. I imagine even Lord Bronn will be smitten once he sees you."

Brienne laughed. "I think that's a gross overstatement of my charms, but I shall accept the compliment anyway."

Before Sansa could reply, there was an unexpected knock at the door, and they both turned toward the sound.

"Who's there?" Brienne asked, once more fearing that it might be Jaime.

"Podrick, my lady. May I have a word?"

A fresh wave of heat flooded Brienne's cheeks at the thought of Podrick seeing her in her wedding gown. Although she knew she looked lovely, it was always a challenge for her to face anyone while wearing something so unabashedly feminine. Even after donning a gown every night of the feast, she wasn't quite used to it. And despite the title she'd been born with, she almost felt like she was pretending, only playing the part of a lady.

Brienne turned uncertain eyes to Sansa, looking for some kind of guidance.

"It's all right," Sansa said, a knowing smile curving her lips. "I think we're done here. I shall see you in the sept."

Sansa turned without another word and walked to the door. When she opened it, there was Podrick, standing in the hallway, dressed in his finest tunic and breeches, his hair freshly washed and combed.

Podrick seemed surprised to find himself suddenly standing before the Queen in the North, and he quickly lowered his head and averted his eyes in deference to her. "Your Grace."

"Ser Podrick. Lady Brienne is free to see you now."

Podrick stepped aside, allowing Sansa to make her way into the corridor. Once she was gone, he moved into the room, leaving the door open behind him and finally looking up at Brienne.

Podrick's eyes widened the instant he saw her, and he stared at her in mute wonder.

"Oh, please, Pod. Don't stare at me like that. I already feel self-conscious enough as it is."

Podrick shifted his gaze toward the floor, his mouth opening and closing like a fish struggling for air. It took him a moment to compose himself before he was able to speak. "I'm sorry, my lady. I just didn't expect . . . I mean, I knew you'd be wearing a gown, but . . ." Words wholly failed him, so he simply stopped trying. He raised his head again to look at Brienne, carefully keeping his eyes in line with hers.

"Do I look so very different than I did all those nights at the feast?" Brienne asked, needing to know for certain.

Podrick inhaled a tremulous breath before finally getting the words out. "You do, my lady. You were lovely then, but now? Now, you are every bit the beautiful, blushing bride."

Brienne was warmed by Podrick's words. They were honest and sincere, and she felt them in the very depths of her soul. "Thank you, Podrick. That means a great deal coming from you."

Podrick offered her a shy, awkward smile.

"Now tell me," Brienne said, "what brings you here this morning? I thought you'd be waiting in the sept with everyone else."

Podrick straightened his spine, standing a little taller as his expression suddenly turned grave. "You'll be leaving for Casterly Rock in the morning, and I wanted to have a private word with you before you left. I . . . I wanted to say a proper goodbye."

A heavy silence fell over the room as the weight of Podrick's words hit them both. Brienne had never imagined there would come a time when she would have to say goodbye to Podrick Payne. When she'd first become Lord Commander of the Kingsguard, she had truly intended to stay at her post for life and she'd thought that their friendship would continue unhindered for all of their days. And while Brienne had no doubt that she and Podrick would always be close, the distance that would soon separate them would make it impossible for things to remain as they were.

Brienne swallowed the lump in her throat, suddenly finding it difficult to speak. "This is not goodbye forever, Pod. You will always be welcome at Casterly Rock, and I can't imagine that this is the last time Jaime and I will ever visit King's Landing. But yes, it may be a long time before we see each other again."

Podrick shuffled nervously on his feet, a clear indication that his emotions were threatening to overwhelm him. Goodbyes were always hard, but this particular parting was especially difficult for them both.

"I just wanted to thank you," Podrick said. "For everything. And to tell you how much I'm going to miss you. You've . . . you've been like family to me, and I don't know what I would have done, or where I would be now, if you hadn't agreed to train me as a knight."

Tears stung Brienne's eyes, but she refused to let them fall. She kept her head high and her shoulders back, determined to be strong for Podrick. "You were a devoted and loyal squire, Podrick Payne. I couldn't have asked for a better pupil. And you have more than proved yourself worthy of your new title. I am proud of you, Pod. And I'm going to miss you too, more than words can ever express."

Brienne lost the battle with herself, and a stray tear rolled down her cheek. She fought the urge to brush it away, afraid of drawing attention to it. She had hoped that she wouldn't be overly emotional today, but at the first test of her resolve, she'd failed. She was already crying, and she hadn't even seen Jaime yet.

Podrick pulled a linen handkerchief from his pocket and took a tentative step forward. "Here, my lady," he said, offering Brienne the small square of cloth.

Brienne took the handkerchief, wiping away the lone teardrop as she willed herself not to cry.

"So I guess this is goodbye, then," Podrick said. "At least for now."

Suddenly overcome by emotion, Brienne reached out, pulling Podrick to her and hugging him tightly. She knew it wasn't the proper thing to do, and she knew Sansa would be horrified that she had risked wrinkling her gown, but Brienne didn't care. She was about to walk away from one of her oldest and dearest friends, and she couldn't do so without a suitable display of her affection.

Much to Brienne's relief, Podrick wrapped his arms around her and hugged her just as tightly. For the longest time, they simply stood there, trying to wring all they could from the moment. Tears flooded Brienne's eyes, rolling freely down her cheeks, as Podrick sniffled against her shoulder.

No matter how good it felt to hug him goodbye, Brienne knew that she and Podrick couldn't stay that way forever. Eventually, she let him go, moving back a step so she could compose herself.

Brienne wiped the tears from her eyes and offered the handkerchief back to Podrick, but he held out his hand, urging her to keep it.

"Something to remember me by," he said.

"Thank you, Pod."

"No, thank you, my lady. For everything, truly."

Brienne turned away, hoping to regain some control over her emotions, and when she did, she found her father standing in the open doorway, his eyes bright and full of pride.

Podrick must have sensed Selwyn's presence behind him because he quickly turned around and took a step back. "My lord," he said, a slight tremor in his voice.

But Selwyn didn't seem to hear him. His attention was focused on Brienne, clearly enraptured by the very sight of her. "Brienne?" he asked in an awestruck whisper.

"Yes, Father, it's me. What do you think?" she asked, holding out the edges of her skirt to show the gown to its full advantage.

Selwyn entered the room, and Podrick retreated another step, allowing the Lord of Tarth to approach his daughter. Selwyn's gaze trailed up and down the length of her, taking in every last inch of Brienne's attire. When their eyes finally met again, he said, "You . . . you look beautiful, my dear. So . . . so much like your mother."

Brienne's heart constricted in her chest, and she struggled not to burst into tears. Her father had said the very same thing to her many, many years ago when she'd donned a much less flattering gown for her coming out ball. It was the last time he had seen her in a dress, and she had been little more than a girl then. She imagined, now that she was fully grown, the resemblance to her mother was even more striking.

Brienne wanted to speak but found herself unable to say a single word. Instead, she inhaled a steadying breath, fighting back the tears as her father moved closer.

"I don't think you've ever looked more lovely," he said, his voice thick with emotion. "I suppose being in love agrees with you."

Brienne laughed. "Yes, I think it does."

Selwyn reached out and took both her hands, squeezing them tightly. "You know, I never thought to see this day," he said. "Never. You can't even begin to know or understand just how happy you've made me, Brienne. Because of you, because of this day, our house shall live on. The next heir to Evenfall Hall will be my grandson or granddaughter, a Tarth through and through, and I couldn't be happier."

"I am happy to see you happy, Father. You're not the only one who never expected this day to come. For the longest time, I thought Jaime was lost to me. I thought . . . well, it doesn't matter what I thought. The point is, we're here now, and we have the gods—and King Bran—to thank for it."

Selwyn let go of Brienne's hands. For a moment, he looked like he wanted to hug her but then thought better of it. It seemed that Sansa wasn't the only one who was worried that Brienne might spoil her gown.

"I suppose we should be on our way," Selwyn said. "We don't want to keep Lord Lannister waiting now, do we?"

Brienne laughed again. "Oh, so now you're worried about offending Jaime, are you? And just last night, he was the one who had to prove himself to you."

"I like the boy," Selwyn said with a chuckle. "A bit self-important for my tastes—you know those Lannisters—but overall, he seems like a good sort, and I look forward to giving him hell well into the future."

The grin on Selwyn's face told Brienne that he was only teasing. He liked Jaime quite well. He had more than proved that the night before at dinner, and Brienne had no doubt that they were going to have a strong and lasting relationship.

Brienne slipped her arm around her father's, casting a brief smile at Podrick. He smiled back at her, clearly overjoyed to finally see her happy.

Brienne and Selwyn headed toward the door, with Podrick following behind. Together, they set off toward the king's sept, to a wedding that was long overdue.