Chapter 1: Brienne The Beauty

It was the end of the first day of orientation, and Brienne Tarth was exhausted. Her classes had gone as well as could be expected, but she didn't feel any more comfortable in the vast lecture halls at Kings Landing University than she had in the narrow hallways at the College of Oldtown. You'll never feel comfortable anywhere if you're not comfortable in your own skin, she thought glumly.

But there was no use sulking. She was here, and it was only four years before she'd be free to do whatever she wanted with her life. But what in the seven hells would that be?

The tall blonde girl strode down the stretch of old cobblestones that ran along the edge of the university gardens, eager to get back to her small dorm room on the opposite side of the campus. Two students who had been lying sprawled on the grass glanced up at her in surprise as she passed them, and she slowed her step, self-conscious. At 6'1, her stride was practically twice as long as most other women, if she didn't watch herself.

Once she was back in the comfort of her dormitory she locked her bedroom door and threw herself onto her narrow bed, taking a long, shuddering breath. The room was miniscule, even moreso than the room she'd had back in Oldtown, but atleast it was hers. More than anything she wished she was back on the Sapphire Isles, nestled in some warm corner of Evenfall Hall, or practicing her rowing out in the choppy waves of Shipbreaker Bay. She would never have left the peaceful solitude of her family's island if it hadn't been for her father. He had insisted on this university the week she left for the Reach the year before, to complete her last term at boarding school.

Unthinking, she had said, "I can't wait to be done with school and finally live at home again-" but Selwyn Tarth had cut her off. "You'll not be coming home to do nothing for the rest of your life," he said sternly. "You're my only child, you're going to study in the capital. I've already asked the counselors at the college to prepare you."

She had known better than to argue. Her father was, in most cases, a gentle and accommodating man. God knows she didn't want to disappoint him any more than she already had.

So here she was, waiting out four years of a Business/Arts double major while she waffled about, trying to figure out what to do with herself. It wasn't like she could play football or rugby as she had in Oldtown. Sports had been her saving grace through her teenage years because she had always been allowed to play in the men's teams, a special exception, but at KLU teams were strictly gendered. She'd already sent emails back and forth looking for exceptions, referring them to her coaches back in Oldtown, but the recreational faculty refused to budge. 'It would not be proper,' one email had read. 'There are female teams for every sport, you are welcome to try out for those.'

As if, Brienne thought bitterly. With her ridiculous height and stocky, muscled body, it would be absurd to play any contact sport with an all-women team. She had no idea what she would do with her spare time now. Fencing? Tennis? There were rowing machines at the gym. Maybe after her classes, she'd exhaust herself on those 5 times a week until she was too tired to think.

As she lay there pondering and dreading her fate, a loud knock at the door burst the bubble of her thoughts.

"Brienne! Brienne The Beauty!"

Her heart skipped a beat. It was Renly. She'd recognize that voice anywhere. She stood up so quickly that she got headrush, and lurched toward the door.

Sure enough, a grinning Renly Baratheon stood before her. "I knew this one was yours," he declared jovially. "Youre the only one who hasn't started decorating your door yet!"

He was just as handsome as he had been four months ago, maybe even moreso. He was growing out the rich brown scruff along his jaw, and his laughing green eyes were as bright as ever. Had he grown taller? He was almost as tall as her now, it seemed.

Renly walked into the cramped bedroom without waiting for an invitation, and his two companions stepped in beside him. Her heart sank at the sight - Renly's best friend Loras Tyrell, and Loras' sister Margaery. She's not even finished high school, Brienne thought. What in seven hells is she doing here?

Loras was the same age as Brienne and Renly and had predictably enrolled in the capital university too. The two young men even shared a double room in the KLU dorm that had been built on the God's Way. But Margaery was two years younger than them, and she should have been back in Oldtown preparing for school.

"Brienne," the girl exclaimed, stepping forward to give the other a friendly, if slightly awkward, squeeze. Her little auburn head barely grazed Brienne's chin. "It's so good to see you. How was your first day?"

"Hello," she said to the trio, slightly bewildered. Renly came around and clapped her on the back in greeting before taking a seat on her bed. She felt her shoulder tingle where his palm had clasped it. "It was just fine, thank you. But... why are you here, Margaery?"

"You know she couldn't be left out, even for a day," Loras said sarcastically, perching on the already-cluttered desk opposite.

Both Tyrells were conventionally gorgeous, with lithe, perfectly formed figures, smooth alabaster skin, and soft, brown curls. All three made Brienne painfully aware of her large, ungainly body and plain, heavy-set features.

"That's not fair," the pretty girl said with a laugh. She sat down neatly beside Renly, her slim thigh grazing against his bent knee. Brienne swallowed and spun her desk chair around to sit, saving herself the awkwardness of towering over them.

"I wanted to see the boy's dorm and the rest of the campus. Father said it would be a good idea to get a feel for the place since I'll be a student too soon enough."

"Well, we're all very glad you came Marg," Renly said, rather dismissively. "What about you, Bri? Are you happy to see us?"

"Of course!" She stuttered. Renly and Margaery were both smiling, while Loras stared cooly out of the small window above her desk that looked out onto the campus plaza. Renly began probing her about her classes, and Margaery asked polite questions about her plans for the year.

As she talked, Brienne felt that familiar wave of fatigue mixed with loneliness that she always felt around this trio and their cohort. She knew these people weren't her real friends - even Renly, who she had been mooning after since they were children. She may be ugly, but she wasn't dumb. Her father had some minor business ties with the Tyrells, distantly over the years, and had always had a good relationship with Renly's parents since they had both grown up in the Stormlands, and attended the same primary school. Renly and the Tyrells had been told to be nice, to make her feel welcome, and help her settle in. Tarth was an isolated place, and, Brienne being Brienne, she had always struggled to make friends. Since she'd made no other companions during her first year at Oldtown College they had taken her in as a permanent fixture of their group. But even though she was officially part of the "clique," Brienne felt more like a bizarre decoration they carried around with them than an actual living, breathing member of a pack.

But it's not as if I can resent them for it, she thought. Despite being beautiful and popular and both blessed with virtually every genetic and practical advantage one could ask for, Renly and Margaery were both nice people, if a bit superficial. Renly especially - he was the first man, aside from her father, who had ever treated her with genuine kindness. He listened when she spoke, and defended her when boys at school had mocked and taunted her size and shyness. He treated her like she was special, which had been the light of Brienne's teenage life, and the bane of her existence. Oh, Renly. If only you knew, she thought.

"There's a party tonight, to celebrate the beginning of the school year," Margaery said in her velvet-toned voice. With her delicate features and large brown eyes, one expected the 16-year-old to sound like a bubbly, high-pitched little girl, but she didn't. Her voice was as smooth and mature as any woman's - almost husky. "You're coming aren't you?"

"Party? Who? Where?" she could feel her anxiety bubbling up already, but she kept a cool, straight face.

"It's at the Lannister's eastern palace," Renly said the word "palace" with exaggerated scorn. "God knows why everyone's so excited - it's not like anyone even likes them."

Loras laughed harshly, but Margaery pursed her lips. "That's not true. The Lannisters have more friends than virtually anyone, us included."

Renly snorted derisively. "Friends? They don't have friends, they have followers. Atleast in Cersei's case. Gods, she's a bitch."

Brienne colored at the insult. Cersei Lannister was supposedly more beautiful than any woman in Kings Landing, and more unpleasant, but she was also Renly's future sister-in-law. It didn't seem right to talk like this, but after two years with him and the Tyrells, she had an understanding of how some members of the "great houses" liked to discuss one another.

"You shouldn't talk about her like that in front of company," the Tyrell girl said as if reading her mind, small hands folded in her lap, the picture of utter decorum. "She'll be your sister one day."

It made Brienne's heart sink, that in Renly's eyes she was 'company,' while Margaery could be privy to every thought and desire he might speak out loud.

"Sister-in-law" he corrected her. "Well, it's too late to take it back now. So, Brienne? You're coming right? That's the whole reason we're here."

Oh gods. They couldn't be serious, could they? Brienne had been to a few parties at Storm's End, the Baratheon's gothic mansion in the Stormlands, and even to the Tyrell's manor in Highgarden once, but the Lannister's KL home was another matter entirely.

The Lannisters were the richest and perhaps the most influential family in Westeros since Aerys Targaryen had died and his eldest son had been sent away across the narrow sea. Cersei Lannister, her twin, Jaime, and their younger brother Tyrion all attended KLU, as well as Baelor The Blessed High School, so their father could keep them all under his watchful eye. Tywin Lannister practically ran the capital city, and it was said that no man was more strict when it came to ensuring that his children honored their family name, and toed the family line.

Brienne wasn't typically one for gossip, but everybody knew about the Lannisters.

"Oh, I don't know," she murmured. "I don't think I was invited."

Loras rolled his eyes, as if annoyed. "You don't have to be invited. You're with us."

His tone was unmistakable, but Brienne was well used to it by now. She still didn't understand why the handsome boy disliked her, except that she had bested him more than once on the fields back in Oldtown. Did that really matter so much that he could hold it against her forever? Was she really that unlikeable?

But Renly did not appear to register his best friend's annoyance. "Come on!" he roared, his open mouth setting into a brilliant smile. "It'll be fun! You're coming with us and that's that."

Brienne pondered the three beautiful young people in front of her, and the party that was mere hours away. "When it comes to getting a leg-up in the future, those young men and women will be more helpful than anything they'll teach you at university," her father had told her.

"Then why am I going?" she'd replied. But he only shook his head, disapproving but not unkind. She knew why he was always trying to give her advice. It was as if he was saying, "you'll need all the help you can get." And he was right.

She needed to grab any opportunities she could. Selwyn would slap her silly (figuratively, of course) if she turned down an invitation like this. Who knows what kind of people she could meet at a Lannister party?

"Ok," she smiled tentatively. "I'm in."