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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 Fifteen

Everything she said came to pass, exactly as she wished. They'd even eaten twice, and yet as they returned to her room after dinner, Clegane felt hungrier than he had in many a month as he looked upon her. Only not for food.

She wasn't just anyone. If it was just anyone he wanted, if anyone would do, then he could pay for that kind of relief. No, this was different. Brienne was different. She was his equal in all things, his match. Tormund's too. It was so rare a thing, and he was coming to respect Tormund to the point that even sharing her with him would be a pleasure all of its own.

He'd never shared a woman in his life. Admittedly, they tended to be a little bit, well, broken in, when he'd done with them. If the woman he was with happened to be a whore, he usually found himself having to pay double for that, even though they damned well enjoyed it most of the time. Hence, he'd gotten into the habit of not bothering himself with them all that often.

They made their way back to her room quietly, and he couldn't take his eyes off her. She seemed a little self-conscious at last, aware of the changed nature of their attention towards her, aware that she had changed something fundamental about their intentions and it made her nervous all over again, just as she had been at the beginning.

She didn't undress straight away, like she had the night before. She faced away from them, uncertain and unsure, until Tormund walked right up behind her and placed his hands on her hips. Then she hiccuped. Clegane hid his sudden smile behind his hand, just in case she should turn and catch him at it.

“Pardon,” she said without thinking, without even turning around, and then: “Are you going to do it now?” she asked quietly, as if she were about to be put on the block and beheaded. Tormund tilted his head, a little insulted, but mostly mystified.

“Now?!” he rumbled. “Now? Woman! We are men. Real men, not southern dogs.” Clegane didn't miss the reference, nor that he himself was excluded from the insult, and he found himself smiling again, just a little. “Now we enjoy ourselves, yes?” Tormund was telling her. “Just like before.”

At that, she finally did turn around, and she smiled a little. “We do?” Tormund nodded seriously. “Oh...” she seemed almost to sag in relief, and it occurred to him then how much tension she'd been carrying around. She leaned on Tormund with her forearms on his shoulders, and Clegane stepped in to help, placing his hands on her waist. She looked down at their hands, all over her, and Clegane heard her swallow.

“And there's definitely no time left to fight, is there?” she said, tossing her head then, as if she was seriously considering it. Clegane got to work on the buttons of her shirt.

“Oh, you've done all the fighting you're going to do today, Brienne of Tarth,” he said into her ear, murmuring it deliberately so that it would tickle, nuzzling her there so that she let her head fall back onto his shoulder. “No more fighting us now,” he said wickedly, “only surrender... and fucking.” Her eyes were closed as Tormund leaned in to kiss her neck, and she almost seemed to whimper, struggling between them, only to straighten up and look Tormund directly in the eyes as she got to work on undressing him by undoing his shirt. The wildling was understandably over the damned moon.

When Clegane was done with her buttons, he slid his hands under the material of her shirt and closed in on his prize, covering her breasts with his palms, pressing against them, pressing her back into his chest. She let go of a throaty moan, and her hands fumbled before stilling completely in their task. “Oh, Gods! I can't even think when you do that.”

“How does it feel?” Clegane asked her, keeping up the slow, tender pressure, and she trembled in his arms. “Tell me.”

“How...?” She echoed in a lost whisper. “I don't even know. I never... it's like the way you touch me is all that exists. It's all that's real. There's nothing else. I want more. I need it.”

“More of what?” Clegane asked, and he knew he was being unfair, but he found he loved hearing her try and describe what was happening to her. She didn't know how sensual she was. Tormund took her hands and lifted her arms, so they were stretched back over Clegane's shoulders, and he felt her interlace her fingers behind his neck.

“More...” she groaned in response, her chest heaving with her breaths.

“Harder?” Clegane asked, and pressed down. She gasped.

“No! Please... Not that...” He relented, and went back to the firmer, but more tender touch of before. “Yes. That is it,” she said. “More of that. And I can feel your touch. Not on my skin, but inside me. It feels like you are so close to me. Not harder. Deeper.”

He caught Tormund's eye, but the wildling didn't seem all that interested in her words. He'd been working on her breeches, helping her out of them, and now he had her stepping out of them with her feet, one by one.

“Give me your leg, beauty,” he said, pulling her thigh up, demanding it, and she sighed as she did what he wanted, raising that one leg to Tormund's hip and wrapping it around him. He was still clothed, just like Clegane, but as Clegane watched, he began to stroke the back and inside of the thigh that was exposed to him now. Just gently, back and forth, up and down.

All the while, Clegane kept up with his own caress of her breasts, and she seemed to come apart between the two of them, her eyes regaining that dark, sultry look of the night before as she stared at them, one to the other.

Tormund looked down at her chest, and in answer, Clegane altered the lay of his hands to expose her nipples for the wildling's perusal. He seemed to take his time making a decision, and Brienne shook her head slightly against Clegane's neck. It seemed as good a time as any to kiss her, and he bent his head to brush his lips over the top of her shoulder, sweeping them up to the side of her neck, just as Tormund lowered his lips to her left nipple, sucking it into his mouth with a wet sound.

Again, she sobbed, just like she had before, her body shuddering with need and sensation. Without conferring they kept it up between them, relentless, teasing her, squeezing and sucking, licking and stroking, wanting to make her hot for it. Or at least, to begin.

“Oh... please, please, I can't...” she breathed, trying weakly to twist away from their touch, but there was nowhere to go.

“Yes, you can,” Clegane said into her ear.

Tormund released the nipple he had been suckling with a similar audible slick sound, then made a pleased sound in his throat, and went straight for the other without even looking up or acknowledging anything else. The one he'd left was red and spit shiny, ripe as a berry, longing to be tasted again. Brienne cried out when the wildling hoisted her hips, bringing her other leg up, one hand under her buttocks to hold her weight. Clegane watched the wildling's lips and throat work for a moment. He was really going for it! And that free hand was still stroking her thigh, so gentle in comparison.

Clegane squeezed with his hands the way he had been doing all along, rhythmic and sustained, matching Tormund's speed, all but feeding Tormund that nipple of hers, listening to her moans fall into the same tempo. Brienne didn't really mean her words of protest, because if she did, there was no way they could have kept her there between them. She sobbed again. “But you're going to make me!” she said urgently, and for a moment Clegane was puzzled. Is that what she thought? Seriously?! “Oh, Gods, don't make me...” And then he understood, and he felt suddenly warm and so powerful, suddenly deeply moved by her. How she was awakening to their touch.

“Oh, Brienne,” he said deeply. “Yes. For us.” And he gave her neck a little bite, to help it along, knowing now what she was trying to say, what she was trying to resist. She moaned in fits and starts, a halting breath in the midst of it all, her body alternately tensing and relaxing, and he knew they'd done it. So easy between them, to tease the first one out of her. He gentled his hands somewhat to allow her to come down from the high slowly. Tormund, he released her too when she'd done with it all. When he looked up, his eyes had darkened the same way as hers did, and Clegane's heart nearly jumped out of his chest.

“You are getting warm, woman,” Tormund said, pleasure in his voice. “It is a start. You will be hot as embers before we take you tonight.”

Gently, he let her legs down, and allowed her to take her own weight again. She was a little unsteady, and she brought her hands back down and into her chest, blushing. She seemed to be focused on Tormund's breeches, which were kind of tented out. Just like his, if he was honest. But unlike his, there was a little kind of damp spot there, where she'd been pressed against Tormund as she'd... ah! Clegane nodded. Now he understood.

Well, now Tormund would always be able to claim she came on his cock first. Clegane sighed, felt a little bad-tempered about that. Surely that was cheating?

“I didn't mean to,” Brienne said, recovering quickly, and clearly mortified. She must have felt it, even though his clothing, that thick heavy cock against her cunt, and so she'd quite naturally wanted to resist coming all over him.

Tormund shrugged. “Don't be afraid of it, beauty,” he said.

She pursed her lips and folded her arms, shaky as she was. Stood up straight. “I'm not afraid!”

“Oh, I think you are,” Tormund argued, and then smiled. “Fierce though you may be. You think it will tame you. But that's not what I want. Or him.” He stepped forward, and she stepped back, but there was nowhere to go, and she bumped into Clegane with a surprised sound. She kept up the proud demeanour for another moment or two, and then seemed to falter.

“You two, you think you know so much,” she said. “But you know nothing. I know what will happen, or what's supposed to happen. I was taught about it when it was assumed I would... well, that I would...” she gulped, then hiccuped again, nervous, “... marry, or something.” She was beginning to babble again, and she looked at them, one to the other; terribly, painfully earnest.

“It will hurt, and I will bleed, and you both know that much. I'm not some silly girl. Please don't treat me like one.” She was clearly trying to make herself face up to it. But how could she? How could she face up to the unknown?

Clegane suddenly saw how alone she was with the two of them, and with all of this. She was a woman, but she hadn't lived as one for most of her life. She'd lived like one of them. She'd lived like him, and she'd never expected to be in this predicament. She had no one to go to for guidance. He and Tormund looked at each other, and really in this situation they were both completely clueless. It wasn't as if he hadn't taken virgins before, but none of them had felt the need to speak to him like this. In fact, they'd been too much in awe of him to say much at all. They'd cried, because they were silly girls... Brienne was certainly not a silly fucking girl, and she wasn't going to cry... was she?! Tormund suddenly looked just as terrified as he felt.

Clegane didn't have a clue what to do, or to say. It couldn't be helped. No one to advise her, in all this time. No one to confide in about any of this. Even she might need the kind of reassurance that only another woman could provide, and neither of them could give that to her. Not by a fucking long shot.

“And I can't help thinking,” she continued, her voice sounding very small all of a sudden for Brienne, “that it's going to hurt more with you, no matter which one of you it is. And I'm not frightened of pain, you know? I can handle pain. I'm just...” She moved away and sat on the side of the bed with a thump, lowering her head, a little miserable. “And... both of you? Just like you are. Am I being punished for something? Because maybe, just now, when it comes to it, I'm sorry for it, whatever it is.”

Tormund sat down beside her. He seemed to be thinking deeply. “I understand, I think,” he said at last. “It will only hurt once. And after that, we will give you pleasure. More pleasure than we've shown you so far. If I am lying, then you must kill me.”

Her mouth dropped open, and she stared at him. “Really? Because I always thought they were kind of... well, pretending. I always thought women really didn't like it as much. That's what I told myself, anyway.” She sighed. “I suppose it's all come as a bit of a shock, to find out it's kind of... nice.” Clegane sat on her other side, and he couldn't help imagining how she would look, out of her mind with pleasure, full of him, full of Tormund, crying out and begging them for more. He nodded when she directed that questioning gaze at him, though strictly speaking, sharing her that way was an ambition for a later date. Tonight, if she managed them one after the other, it would be an achievement. It was a shock to him to realise he didn't even know how feasible that was.

She looked a little dubious. “If I tell you something, will you think less of me?” They both denied it immediately. She drew in a breath. “I think I am a little afraid. Of the pain, I mean, because I know how sensitive I feel when you touch me there.” She paused. “Even when you only kiss me there.” She suddenly shuddered, pressing her legs together hard. “Do you know how bad it will be?”

Clegane bit his lip and shook his head slowly. Tormund too. “Of course you don't. I'm sorry.” She sat on her hands and rocked forward. “I'm not changing my mind. I've decided. And I want it out of the way. I can't go forward without doing it. I can't go into this thing we're going to face wondering, because it's a terrible, deadly distraction.”

She gave them both an apologetic look. “I don't mean anything by that. You understand, don't you? Both of you? I mean I do want you, desperately. More than anything. Even if I don't really know what it means yet. It's not just the distraction, but that's part of it.”

Clegane listened to her nervous rambling, and was surprised to find himself admiring her all over again. She spoke as she thought, and it was just as he expected her to think. Of course it was a distraction. Truth be told, if this didn't happen between them all, it would be a distraction for Tormund and himself just the same.

“I know what you mean,” he said. “When we go into this war, the last fucking thing I want to be doing is wondering how I might still manage to get inside you and into heaven before I die.”

She stared at him for a long moment, mouth slightly agape at his blunt language, then she laughed, and it broke the tension a little bit.

“She thinks you are joking,” Tormund put in, completely deadpan.

“As if I would,” Clegane responded, as innocent as could be.

“I know.” Tormund shrugged. “If you have to go out. Go out fucking.” He nodded. “Sounds like a plan to me.”

Between the two of them, she was giggling even harder now, arms folded, bent over her knees. “Stop it! You are making me imagine it. All the dead soldiers just standing there, watching. You know... distracted!”

Clegane began to laugh. Tormund's rumbling laughter joined in, and then a few moments later, much calmer, she sat up, decisive, and looked at them both.

“Well?” she said, expectant. “Am I the only one getting undressed? Because you two are falling behind again.”

To be continued...

Author's Note: Hope I'm not doing too badly. :/ Let me know, either way. Review replies will be found here: http://www2.adult-fanfiction.org/forum/topic/61848-pippychicks-review-replies-tv/
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We're All Going to Die