Author's Notes: Good day, everyone! Welcome back to the next installment of this story. I so greatly appreciate that you continue to support this work. You are the wind beneath my wings, so let's keep flying!

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Chapter 96

Brienne VII

She had faced down the fearsome and skilled Ser Loras Tyrell in a bout and won out over him. She had battled Ser Osmund Kettleblack, who was much bigger and more intimidating, and nearly lost her life to him. Yet her heart pounded beneath her breast and she felt the beginnings of a cold sweat. She was to stand before the seamstress and hash out her dress for her wedding to Lord Jaime Lannister.

She despised dresses. They hampered her freedom of movement and she never looked well in them because she was ugly. The most beautiful dress in the world could not fix that. Lady Margaery, by contrast, could be dressed in a simple servant's skirts and her beauty would still shine bright as the sun. Not her.

Please, she berated herself, it's just one day. It's not like you can turn back the marriage proposal. Ser Jaime has already bested you more times than you can count and Father has already granted his blessing. There was nothing to stop the wedding going forward short of a death and she refused to think on it lest she curse herself again.

Just thinking about Jaime put a smile on her face. There were still days she awoke in the morning and thought it all a dream only to be invited to luncheon. She had never seen Jaime so happy in the short time she had known him. He was practically vibrating with exuberance. No one wanted to fight him because he made short work of them. She still relished the challenge. Her father had watched them fight and he made note to her once they returned to their rooms for dinner that he had never seen her so happy and he was pleased she had found such a perfect match.

It was only in seeing him so happy that Brienne realized there had always been a sadness hovering as closely as a second skin, no doubt brought there by the passing of her mother and her siblings. His happiness made him look easily ten years younger. She had long wanted to make her father proud, and being able to find a way to do that with not only her fighting skills, but also as a daughter, made her swell with pride.

But first … the dress, she thought with much gloom. She paced her quarters like a caged lion. Alone. She knew that most ladies invited their mother, sisters, cousins, or even other friends to their dress fitting. But she had no one. Lady Maege and Lady Dacey were just as awkward about traditional female milestones as she was, so she chose not to ask for their company, lest it be too awkward for her to abide.

Brienne jumped at the knock on her door. She took in a deep breath and opened it, noticing how the seamstress' smile faltered upon seeing her before it was hitched back on, decidedly less enthusiastic.

"Lady Brienne?" The seamstress spoke tentatively.

She tried to smile back warmly, but her mood only dampened further. "Yes, I am Brienne. Do please come in." She opened the door wide and the seamstress walked in with two young ladies behind her, carrying a couple of crates of tools and fabric. She was a short, plump woman with a round face, but her demeanor was brusque and haughty. Brienne imagined the seamstress would be perfectly acceptable around other noblewomen where their beauty clearly outshone hers, but now she was confronted with a woman nobly born and bred yet uglier than she. As soon as the seamstress was settled and turned to her, her nose wrinkled as her eyes slowly roved up her figure, taking in the men's trousers and doublet.

"What is all this?" the seamstress asked, pinching at the fabric of her doublet.

"It's what I like to wear."

"Well, be that as it may, it simply won't do for a wedding," the seamstress said, clapping her hands together. "Lord Lannister has hired me to ensure you're the talk of the kingdom and we can't do that in trousers now, can we?" She gave a falsetto laugh.

Brienne tried to smile but felt it came across more as a grimace.

"Did you have ideas for your wedding dress? Most ladies do and can't wait to burst forth with them."

"I-uh-I don't know. I … don't really wear dresses. They don't wear well on me."

"Come now, my lady. It's all in the cut! I could make a street vagrant look noble; I'm sure you will as well," the seamstress replied, but Brienne thought she heard doubt in her voice and her smile was false.

Then she snapped her fingers and started barking orders as her apprentices hastily pulled out yards of fabric, all of it white. Brienne frowned at it. She had never attended a wedding before, but there were colorful gowns she had seen among the other ladies that she could quietly admire and recognize their beauty.

An hour later, Brienne was in misery and longed to be finished. She wasn't entirely certain that she shouldn't just call off the whole wedding. The seamstress had immediately stripped her out of her clothes so that she was naked as the day she was born. Brienne couldn't miss the way the apprentices gave her body disgusted looks. The seamstress kept a better face, but she seemed to ponder her body for far too long and took no notice of her apprentices. She mumbled something under her breath that sounded an awful lot like, "A challenge to be sure."

She was wrapped in silk with lacing thrown over it in a haphazard fashion. The seamstress was pinning it in places to fit her body, but Brienne could see she was displeased, yet had enough sense not to vocalize her frustrations. Brienne felt herself constrained by the dress as it was tightly fitted to her body— "This is the fashion, my lady," the seamstress told her—and the soft pearly white of the fabric washed out her skin and made her feel like a ghost. She could already see herself awkwardly moving down the aisle, stepping on and tripping over her own gown. She could see the people in the crowd attempting to hide their snickers. Worst of all, she saw Jaime frowning at her in her mind's eye and then openly declaring he could never marry her. The very thought made her nauseated and she was certain that if the dressing went on for much longer, she would ruin everything.

"Don't you fret, my lady. We will make this work," the seamstress said.

"I don't like the white," Brienne mumbled.

The woman stared at her as if she had blasphemed the gods. "But it is tradition!"

"Is it?" Brienne asked wanly and felt her determination begin to collapse. It was one thing to pursue being a warrior, but to go against the traditions of the Faith of the Seven? She didn't think even her father might forgive her.

"I am the seamstress. The queen used to call on me for her dresses. She trusted my expertise and you should too."

Brienne frowned at the mention of "the queen." She must be referring to Cersei, she thought, which caused anger to bubble up in her belly and she tensed.

"Please, my lady, relax. You should not be tense."

"Sorry," Brienne mumbled.

She was just beginning to wonder when the torture would end when there was a polite knocking at the door. The seamstress snapped her fingers at one of the apprentices. The door opened to reveal Lady Delphine and Lady Lucille. Brienne tried to hide her smile at the obvious boredom Lady Lucille was in, though Brienne couldn't help but notice that she was wearing trousers. In fact, Lady Delphine was wearing trousers as well. It was a trouser-dress combination in which the dress opened at her waist and trailed behind her. The color was a red-wine with gold trim and Brienne couldn't help but admire how it looked against her darker skin.

Lady Delphine dipped her head to Brienne. "I apologize for my tardiness, my lady."

"Oh?"

"Did Lord Jaime not mention I would be here?" Lady Delphine asked with a curious tilt of her head. "No matter. Lord Jaime asked that I attend to the dress fitting. Lord Jaime wishes for you to have exactly what you want." Brienne noticed that Lady Delphine's eyes became decidedly less soft once they focused on the seamstress who seemed to have frozen in place. "White? This does not seem to go with your skin, my lady."

"Those who marry in the Faith of the Seven traditionally wear white dresses," the seamstress said, drawing herself up, but she had a nervous look. Both Lady Delphine and the seamstress were of a similar height, which was still far shorter than Brienne.

"I see. Is this what Lady Brienne wants?" Lady Delphine asked, turning to her.

Brienne shifted. "I want my house colors."

"I'm sorry, my lady, but it's just not done. We simply cannot make a whole dress out of pink and blue."

"Does she really need a full dress in … pink, was it? What is this color?"

"Umm … it's on my banner. A bright pink," Brienne explained, nodding to her trunk.

After some digging, Lady Delphine pulled out a doublet with the Tarth sigil. "I see. You'll have to forgive my ignorance, my lady. I'm still learning the names of colors. I have pink fabric in my wardrobe. Perhaps that can be repurposed for your dress."

Brienne blushed to her roots. "Uh … yuh-you're far too kind, but I don't think that will be necessary."

"This will be your one and only wedding. It should be as you imagine it," Lady Delphine said.

Lucille began rifling through the seamstress' boxes of fabric.

"That is enough, urchin! I will not have your dirty paws on my fabric," the seamstress berated, her mouth full of pins.

"You will not call my daughter such," Lady Delphine barked. The seamstress' face whitened and she groveled for apologies, but Lady Delphine took little notice, stepping around her to Lucille. "Did you find anything of use, my sweet?"

"There's this pink," Lucille said, holding up a paper-thin fabric.

"Hmm … that does not quite match the pink of House Tarth, but then I'm not sure the pink in my wardrobe would match either. Lady Brienne, what think you?"

"It's lovely," Brienne said with little enthusiasm.

"My lady, what is wrong? Lord Lannister wants you happy and that is what we will do," Lady Delphine said.

Brienne glanced down her body at the white fabric. "I don't like it."

"You heard her. Take it off. Don't you worry, my dear. We will not stop until you are pleased," Lady Delphine said.

Again, Brienne had to hide her smile as Lucille rolled her eyes skyward behind her mother's back. Oh, to be that young again. It was certainly how she felt.

Brienne was relieved of the fabric, leaving only the lacy undergarments the seamstress had forced onto her, but it was better than standing naked before them all.

"So tell us what you want?" Lady Delphine asked.

"I don't want a dress. I-" she stopped abruptly, embarrassed.

Lady Delphine only stared politely at her.

Brienne was glum and she felt her face reddening. "Dresses never look good on me; I am too ugly."

The noblewoman gave her an exasperated look. "I get the feeling, my lady, that none have bothered to try and make dresses look good on you."

"I'm too-too muscular," Brienne said.

"And there are women who are too flat in the chest and skinny as a stick. They use tricks to give them curves so that their dresses fit."

"Tricks?"

Lady Delphine raised an eyebrow. "I don't think you should bother with them. They might make you look lopsided. Have you considered a dress such as what I'm wearing?"

Brienne looked down at her. It might hamper her torso, but she would be able to move her legs freely at least. She began to tentatively nod.

"No, no!" The seamstress was aghast. "Wedding dresses are just that: dresses! The whole of the Seven Kingdoms would be laughing at her, and Lord Lannister expressly told me that none should laugh. I will not have you persuading my charge into ruining her reputation."

"Lord Lannister also expressly said that Lady Brienne shall have what she wants. Damn what other people think," Lady Delphine said patiently.

"I am the seamstress. I have designed dresses for the last queen and her daughters. I've fitted dresses to dozens of noble ladies of many sizes and they all sing my praises. I insist, my lady, allow me to do my job."

"How about I do the persuading? Are you to be the first maker of gorgeous dresses that include trousers? Of which will be the envy of every noblewoman in the Seven Kingdoms?" Lady Delphine asked.

The seamstress opened her mouth to speak when a knock sounded at the door.

"Lady Brienne, if I may?" Lady Delphine asked, nodding at the door. At a nod from Brienne, Lady Delphine opened the door and Brienne felt the color leave her face as Princess Daenerys, Lady Margaery, Lady Sansa, and Lady Shireen all walked in. Despite the undergarments, Brienne still felt naked and wished to shrink in on herself. However, she noticed that Princess Daenerys was wearing the same trouser-dress cut as Lady Delphine.

"Princess Daenerys," the lady said, curtsying before her. Lady Lucille's was a tad more haphazard.

Brienne tried to keep her face straight as she bowed from where she stood, feeling diminished.

"We were just discussing Lady Brienne's wedding dress. She is considering one exactly like your outfit."

"You flatter me," Princess Daenerys said with a wide smile. "I should think it would be beautiful."

"Absolutely, I've been meaning to commission such a dress," Lady Margaery said. "I think it would be most useful to have my legs free."

The seamstress continued to stare wide-eyed, but then she made a deep curtsy to Princess Daenerys. When she turned to Brienne, her eyes were fervent, "My apologies for my ill-chosen words, my lady. I will gladly do the specific cut of the dress."

Brienne felt her shoulders slump as she breathed a sigh in relief.

"I look forward to seeing your wedding dress, Lady Brienne. I'm sure you will be stunning," Princess Daenerys said to her with a kind smile.

Brienne felt herself deflate again. Even if they managed to sew the dress to fit her body, there was nothing to change her ugly face.

"Why so down, my lady? You were so pleased a moment ago," Lady Delphine asked.

"No matter how lovely the dress, it will not change my face."

"I should think makeup will cover anything that displeases you."

"I, uh, I don't own makeup. Never found much use for it," Brienne said.

"Don't you fret. I will be happy to apply makeup."

Brienne frowned. "Makeup isn't who I am."

"Of course," Lady Delphine replied. "It's just for the day. Lord Lannister is determined to marry you and he decided that without knowing what you look like with makeup. This is your wedding, so if you would rather have no makeup, that is also your choice."

Brienne glanced down at the fabric she was twisting between her fingers. "I want to be pretty," she murmured. It was her wedding day. Perhaps, for once, she would know what it would feel like to be beautiful.

"You will be," Lady Delphine whispered. "Now, let us decide on the colors."