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We're All Going to Die	By : pip Category: G through L > Game of Thrones Views: 12196 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: I do not own Game of Thrones and I make no money from this work of fanfiction.

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Chapter Eleven

“You're late,” she said, displeased as they took their places, without bothering to look at either of them. She was busy eating, since the food was already here. “I ordered for you. I chose the chicken.”

“At least you still got two of us,” Clegane muttered, his voice dark. He was marginally cheered by the chicken, and started in on his own dinner just as Tormund shoved him playfully. He gave a warning growl, low in his throat.

At that she looked up. “Have you been fighting?” she asked suspiciously, “because I seem to remember hearing you say you weren't going to do that.”

Wait.. was she actually chastising him?! Tormund drew in a great breath. “Fighting? Bloodyhell, of course not woman! We've been ki–”

Before he could say it, Clegane plastered one large hand over the wildling's mouth. Brienne stared at them both, put down her knife and fork and leaned back in her seat. She looked like she was about to enjoy something tremendously – and she wasn't even eating any more.

“So,” she said, looking directly at Clegane. “You've been...” she paused, to think, darting a glance at Tormund, still unable to speak. “Kicking someone?” she asked, unimpressed. Clegane shook his head slowly, trying to think.

She drew in a considering breath, and then her face fell, and she seemed suddenly disappointed in them both. “Killing,” she said, in icy disapproval. Clegane frowned.

“No! We haven't!” he said. She raised an eyebrow. “We bloody well haven't! Not a one, I swear!”

“All right,” she said. “So, you were just 'kindling' your friendship. Is that what he was going to tell me?”

Clegane looked at Tormund helplessly. Was it a word he would use? Probably not. Something more was required here. He swallowed thickly, and he thought more quickly than he ever had in his life. “We were just kidding around,” he said with a casual little laugh. He shrugged lightly for good measure. “That's all.” Behind his hand, Tormund nodded. He let the wildling go.

Brienne drew in a breath and sat back up straight, turning her attention back to her dinner. They all relaxed, Clegane most of all, after a warning glare at Tormund.

“Well, that's a relief,” she said as she picked up her knife and fork again. “Because I thought he was about to tell me you were kissing each other.”

He and Tormund both froze on the other side of the table, at least until Brienne peeked at them, a mischievous sparkle in her eyes. Tormund laughed.

“You two are so easy,” she commented. “That's twice in one day. Which reminds me,” she said. “We have to help Pod tomorrow.”

“But I thought you told him to fight his own battles,” Clegane muttered, digging back into his dinner.

“Yes, I did, and I know exactly what I meant. His own battles? Podrick? Have you seen him?” She sighed in a long-suffering way and then went quiet as she started in on her vegetables.

Clegane grinned, attacking his chicken with gusto. They would help Podrick out then, if that's what she wanted. He was surprised to find it was what he wanted too. But first, there was the long night ahead, and some more lessons for her. Stands to reason he'd be about to march off into death just as life got this good.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~

When they reached her room, she opened and closed the new door a few times, until she was happy that it was a good, solid job. She gave an impressed hum of satisfaction, then strode in, leaving one of them to close and lock the door behind them.

“Don't barge your way in here, ever again,” she said, facing away from them both, already pulling her shirt out from her breeches as they stood still, watching her. She turned, fingers on the buttons, and then frowned.

“What? Am I the only one getting undressed?” she queried, a slight note of disappointment creeping in. Clegane immediately rushed to catch up with her. Tormund too.

She was already pulling the shirt off, small breasts bouncing, almost impossibly perky and rosy tipped. Clegane licked his lips. “As if I'm going to wait for you two to undress me every evening,” she was was saying, almost to herself, then huffed. “Two strangest handmaids in the world!”

This new confidence of hers was exhilarating. But it faltered a bit as she undid her breeches, and she realised she was going to be completely naked before them again. That tell-tale blush came back to her cheeks, and she seemed to realise how she'd just behaved. “Obviously, I don't mean to be forward,” she faltered softly, blinking at them both, one to the other.

Clegane had halted, hand on the ties of his own breeches, staring at her. “I'm doing it wrong again, aren't I?” she said, sighing, looking away and raising her hands to cover her breasts. That seemed to free him and Tormund both, and they moved forward to reassure her as one unit, taking a hand each.

“I like it,” Clegane said simply.

“Woman knows what she wants,” Tormund commented. “Makes me want her.”

“It's just that I was thinking, you know, what with the time and everything,” Brienne babbled, looking at them, one to the other. “And how we don't have that much of it. We should probably just continue where we left off and...” At last she seemed to understand she hadn't made a terrible mistake, and she stopped, took a breath, and then seemed to make a decision to forget about it. She tugged at her hands, pulling them free and continued to undress. So did they.

When they were in their usual places, she wriggled between them, and turned over on her side to face him. “You first tonight,” she said. “I want to touch more of you than before.” She frowned, as if aware now that she had missed out on a great deal, splaying her hands over his chest. Clegane drew in a breath as Tormund got up and moved to the other side, making them both move up, meaning he was sandwiched in the middle.

“Brienne...” he said, as she dipped her head to follow the path of her hands with her lips.

“I want to know you, all of your body, like you know mine,” she said, as if they were arguing. He wasn't bloody arguing. Her gentle little kisses felt amazing, and he couldn't keep the smile from his face, no matter how he tried. But he was so broad, and she clambered astride him so as to reach further, prompting a gasp of alarm from him as he gripped her waist, fingers digging in.

“No, not again!” He stared up at her. “I swear you won't bloody well get away with it twice!”

But she wasn't, she was careful this time, her body raised up, so that they weren't aligned that way. She blushed and bit her lip. “Oh, yes,” she said. “I promise not to...” She thought for a moment, then quoted him so precisely he groaned. “Writhe on your cock like a bitch in heat.”

“I knew you'd get me back for that,” he commented, then drew in a little breath when she suckled at a nipple, just how they'd been at hers.

“Does it feel the same for you as it does for me?” She wanted to know.

“I don't know,” he said, truthfully, though he strongly suspected it wasn't quite the same, since he wasn't losing it the way she did.

“Try a little nibble,” Tormund suggested wickedly, and Clegane gave the wildling a look of betrayal as she did just that. He drew in his breath again, sharper now, but she was still gentle. He'd felt her teeth before, and she was capable of much more. He wondered whether to tell her.

“Good,” said Tormund. “With us, like this is better.” And then it was him, and it was definitely him because Clegane could feel that ridiculous beard against his chest. Tormund meant it, tugging with his teeth in a firm grip, sucking hard as he did it. Clegane made a helpless sound in his throat, his body twisting so as to offer more of itself up. But then as soon as it began, it was over.

At least until Brienne tried it again, this time with a lot more pressure. It was exquisite, right on the edge between pleasure and pain, and he actually moaned for her, his hands in that ridiculously short gorgeous blonde hair, palms all but cupping her skull. Whether he was holding her to him or wanting to push her away, he didn't know.

“Brienne!”

At last she released him, and looked down into his eyes with a slight smile. She seemed pleased, but then moved onward, up to his neck, kissing him there the way he'd so often kissed her. Her hair smelled of some sweet herbal soap, and her breasts brushed against his chest, her skin so gloriously soft he couldn't stop himself wrapping his arms around her, holding her close.

She was driving him insane or something, because if she'd been any other woman, he'd be crushing her in his grip. As it was, this was Brienne, so she she merely giggled in the middle of a kiss as his blunt fingers dug into the spaces between her ribs.

“You're tickling me,” she managed, her words a puff of warm breath against the corner of his lip

He laughed, not relenting, letting himself go, letting himself have it all. She kissed his good ear, the one she'd left on him, and then his face, everywhere, making him close his eyes, and he'd be damned if she didn't kiss all over his scar too as if it wasn't even there.

He did loosen his hands then, to slide them down her wonderful long body to her buttocks. He squeezed her there, hard, and she breathed in deep, suddenly relaxing down onto him. And there they were again. Their eyes opened and met. She was startled, frozen for an instant as if giving him the choice. He didn't move, and slowly, carefully, she extricated herself from his grip and knelt up again.

Now she worked her way down, touching and exploring, fingering each of his scars. Kissing his bruises. He smiled at that despite himself, though she didn't apologise for any of them. All the time, closer, until he felt a tremor in his body that refused to subside. He felt her breasts brush against him first there, and he felt himself jerk just a little, unable to help it.

He raised his head from the pillows to look down at her, and she was staring up at him. Though that blush was on her face again, she didn't let her embarrassment stop her, and she moved her hands down, tapping his inner thighs demandingly. “Open your legs,” she said. “Let me see you.”

He did as she asked, making space for her. He felt her wonderful warm fingers curl around his cock, and he thought he might have whispered her name, but then she faltered. She cast an uncertain glance up the bed, this time to Tormund, who had been watching everything unfold with great interest. She smiled uncertainly. “Help me?” she asked, and the wildling grinned. He hesitated just long enough to smirk at Clegane, then joined her halfway down the bed, ready to tutor her. Clegane let his head fall back. This was probably going to be hell, and heaven. All at once.

He didn't listen to their words as they discussed him, but covered his ears with his hands, and set to wondering how he would survive having Brienne practice on him. Especially if Tormund was going to demonstrate at every fucking turn.

There were a series of strangely gentle impersonal touches from Tormund, as if noting the proportions of him. A warm hand cupping his balls, more voices, quiet instruction and explanation. When he chanced to look up, Brienne was nodding, eyes wide, a serious look on her face. He hoped Tormund was telling her not to bite.

By the time he felt a mouth on him, he was about ready to roar in frustration.

Tormund was first, the teacher. Suddenly engulfing him, wet hot sucking heat, and after a couple of up and down movements, taking him deeper than any woman had ever been able to manage in his entire life. Clegane half sat up to catch him at it. “Fuck me!” he said in utter shock as he felt himself slide smoothly into the snug fit of Tormund's throat. He could see the back of that ginger head, bobbing up and down on him, fast, and his breathing fell immediately into line as if commanded. Hell, he fell into line, his entire body responding to it, until he was sure his toes were curling. Brienne was watching closely, and then she happened to look up, and his heart jolted because her eyes were that same intense blue again.

He felt suddenly cold, and realised Tormund had stopped. “You watching me? Or him?” Brienne's eyelashes fluttered as she looked back down at her lesson.

“I was watching you,” she said.

“Hmm,” Tormund said, unconvinced. “Well, give it a go. I watch.” He let go with his hand and moved back, to let her have her turn.

She wrapped one hand around his shaft, a nice firm grip. “All right,” she said, to herself, staring at his cock, as if she was bringing to mind a number of things Tormund had told her. She licked her lips – properly – so they were shiny wet and gleaming in the light, then she went down.

Tormund had given her some guidance, because she tucked her teeth behind those wet lips as she sealed them over him and sank down over the head of his dick. He felt her trying to create some suction, but honestly to be anywhere near her mouth was a pleasure all of its own. Clegane immediately lowered a hand to rest it on her head, only for Tormund to grab hold of his wrist.

“Give her room,” he advised, serious. “What help will you give her?”

Plenty, he thought, but relented, leaving her be to do as she would. Her mouth wasn't quite the same shape as Tormund's, and she definitely had all her teeth. Her tongue was clumsy and inexperienced, but she was trying. Her mouth was hot and she tried to take him. She moved a little, too short and too jerky, and he felt himself hit the back of her throat, and it was closed to him, though she pressed it.

Finally she pulled away and caught her breath. “Sorry,” she murmured, and then retched, out of sight. Clegane pulled a face that Tormund didn't miss.

“Oh? You southerners and your whores. You probably believe all women are born cocksuckers, I think.”

“Cunt,” he swore, scowling. Tormund only stared back.

“Like to see you try it out, for the first time,” he said, then ran his tongue around his lips with a deliberate smirk.

Brienne was recovering, and she had covered her mouth with her hand, trying to speak at the same time so that her words were muffled.

“It's harder than you made it seem,” she was saying to Tormund. “And I didn't mean to, but it felt as though I was going to...” She swallowed.

“I know, beauty. It will get better, if you want it enough.”

“Will it?” she queried. Then she finally moved her hand and smiled tentatively at the wildling. “Because it's the strangest... am I bad that I kind of like it?”

“If you're bad, then I am too,” Tormund said, his lower lip dropping a little so that Brienne giggled at the look on his face. He smiled. “I think we can make it easier. You want to try again?”

She nodded. Tormund got up and fetched a couple of pillows from the top of the bed, throwing them into the centre of the floor. “Okay. Clegane, you stand here.” He pointed in front of the pillows.

The thought that she might soon be on her knees in front of him made him spring off the bed like a spaniel terrier, it had to be said. And he stood ready, to attention even, anticipating it, watching her as he handled his own cock, as if to show her what she was facing. Her eyes were wide, but she came to stand before him and then sank down to her knees on the pillows. She still was tall, and her lips were on the same level as his stomach, she kissed him there and sank back onto her heels, shuffling forward.

She slapped his hand away and immediately tried again, managing for longer this time as Tormund knelt low on one knee beside her. He'd just begun to enjoy it, gently swaying into her wide open mouth, hands gentle on her head, and Tormund didn't stop him. Again, she broke away to gasp and cough, but she didn't seem about to throw up. He supposed that must feel better for her.

He remembered that Brienne was one of the most stubborn, determined people he'd ever met a short time later, when she was really beginning to improve. Every now and again she'd break away, and she mutter to herself: “No.” before returning to him immediately to try again. Every time she lasted longer, until eventually, Tormund began to speak into her ear while she was doing it. Little reminders.

“Hand,” he said, and she used her hand on him to complete the experience, making him groan and hiss in want.

“Tongue,” Tormund said next, and he felt that slick muscle begin to move too, oddly at first, but then in tandem with the rest. Clegane moaned, there was no other word for it. It was a real, honest to goodness vocalisation of sheer need.

Tormund watched closely. “Very good, beauty. Balls.” What the fuck?! was all he could think, before he felt her other hand, caressing him there, so gentle, so easy, and he wondered if he could really stay standing for this. At some point he'd closed his eyes, and the sensations were coursing through him. His fingers tightened on her hair, just a little, but no pressure. He didn't want to force anything. She was doing it. She was really.. Oh, fucking hell!

“Remember, Brienne,” Tormund said now. “Drink.” Drink? What the hell did that mean? Did the wildling know how close he was? But then he knew, because the throat that had been closed to him suddenly opened, her tongue flattening out, and he slid inwards. Only a little, nowhere near as deep as he'd been in Tormund, but it was enough.

“Brienne!” he cried out, and it was happening. He felt invincible for an endless moment as everything that was in him wound up into a sudden fierce point and exploded out, right into her. Was he dragging her back and forth, or was that her? He didn't know, but he did care, and he let her go as he came so as not to hurt her.

She'd withdrawn from him a little. It didn't matter. Nothing mattered any more. “Oh, fuck me, Brienne!” he groaned, and he was done. He opened his eyes, and looked down, wondered how much trouble he was in.

It wasn't as bad as he feared. She'd pulled away at the last moment, and got back to her knees, and so he'd come all over her tits. He puffed out a breath, inclined his head. Maybe he should apologise or something? As he watched, she dragged a single finger through the fluid on her left breast and raised it to her lips. She looked into his eyes as she tasted him, and he shuddered.

“Well, I'm out,” he commented. “For now, at least.”

She laughed, that real laugh, not a giggle, and he staggered away to sit on the end of the bed as Tormund stood up. Brienne remained on her knees, and turned to face him.

“Your turn,” she said, biting her lip.

The wildling shuddered, in a piece of deliberate overacting. “Yes!” he said, looking up to the ceiling, and she laughed again. Now she sounded powerful, and aware of it, and even though with Tormund she still had to stop and start several times, she managed it with him too. Again, she pulled away and up at the last moment, and just as she had with him, she tasted of him too. As curious as a cat. Who knew Brienne could be so sensual as this? It was a wonderful secret, and he'd never tell. It was for him and Tormund to know. She was sensational and she was theirs.

She returned to the bed with Tormund and laid down on her back. “You're a very dirty girl,” Clegane teased, looking at her chest. She looked down too, then pulled a face.

“It's not my fault. It's you, and him. You did it.”

He got a damp cloth and cleaned her off carefully, then kissed each of her breasts, one by one. “You tired?” he asked, and she shook her head.

“Not yet,” she replied. “Why?”

Clegane grinned. “I was kinda hoping you'd say that...”

To be continued...

Author's Note: Hope you enjoyed it! Please review. First time scenes are difficult to write, because it's hard to strike that balance between realism and still keep it kind of sexy. I hope it worked for you, at least a little. I really liked Tormund in this chapter, though, especially his barb about Clegane's assumptions on women. He's probably right too. That's why Clegane swore at him, haha. Review responses will be found here: http://www2.adult-fanfiction.org/forum/topic/61848-pippychicks-review-replies-tv/
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