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The Lady and her Man	By : LL72 Category: G through L > Game of Thrones Views: 22575 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: I do not own Game of Thrones. I am not making any money from this story

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This story is a fusion between the Game of Thrones and it's original source material in A Song of Ice and Fire, so if you don't recognise some of the minor characters from TV its probably because they're from the books. The slant I put on it is mine...
*
Even later Brienne was unable to say what had made her realise the wedding feast was a trap. No matter how often she thought of it a different reason seemed to come to her; she'd seen a glint of armour, or a dagger not quite concealed, the obvious lack of skill the musicians played or that their perspiration spoke of men who were more than normally nervous. Soon she could no longer remember what was true and what was her imaging.
She was sure, whatever it was, she wouldn't have noticed if she'd been carousing as much as the rest of King Robb and Lord Edmure's entourage. It wasn't for lack of courtesy, after arriving with his sister (even if little did he know she was no longer a maiden) she had been warmly welcomed (not least by Catelyn, who's gratitude was so womanly that even Sansa had blushed at her mother's tears). The King made no mention of her garb nor her stilted curtsey and he'd quickly realised that she had no like for being called 'my lady' when her name would do (he wouldn't call her Ser, but then she was neither man nor knight).
They had caught up with him a few days from the King's destination, the Twins - the castle of House Frey where Lord Edmure, Sansa's uncle, was due to marry one of the abundant brood of old-man Frey to make up for some minor slight by his nephew. If Sansa had been separated from her and into the arms of her Mother, at least Robb had welcomed her to his company and made no mention of her sex, treating her like any other of his men.
At the feast, as befitted the sister of the King, Lady Sansa sat at the top table with her Mother and brother. Brienne was further down, still honoured by being in the hall, but further away from the King than those who'd fought with him and formed his closest bond. In many ways she didn't mind - she had always struggled with the niceties and here, near the musicians she could practice selective deafness to the Freys on either side, neither were near enough the line of succession to Lord Walder for anyone to care about.
She ate dolefully and sparingly, her only saving grace was that Sansa was in her line of sight. The redhead looked even more beautiful (if that was possible) dressed in finery and her hair done up, laced with fine gems which sparkled in the auburn, like stars in a dark dawn sky. Despite being reunited with her family there was a sad look to her, which Brienne couldn't understand, though whenever she realised the older woman was looking she brightened and smiled. Brienne wished she didn't have to look, seeing her was painful - she had never been one for courtly romances, preferring the sparring yard to library - but she had sometimes been forced to read them by the procession of septa's her father employed. Now she felt like she was in one - a doomed love for a princess which could never be.
Her feeling of loss heightened her senses and revealed whatever made her bound up to the stage to grab a musician and yank aside his clothes to reveal chain-mail beneath.
The next few minutes were a cacophony, the yells of treason, followed by the sounds of violence and the inevitable screams of the dying. Brienne herself owed her life to the Greatjon, who immediately on seeing the musicians weren't musicians lifted his table and with a roar swatted aside the Freys on it. Rushing forward with it as battering ram he slammed it on the man who was busily trying to impale Brienne with his sword whilst simultaneously attempting to club her with his mandolin.
Others, who in a few hours would have been to drunk to move, reacted equally quickly. Wendell Manderly, with a speed that surprised those who only saw his bulk, had a knife in one hand and a dead Frey on the end of it, whilst he punched another (his friends later joked he was incensed at the interruption to his meal). Dacey Mormont, a warrior woman almost as skilled as Brienne and who could wear a dress with a grace Brienne half-envied, half pitied, grabbed a sword from a Frey Jason Mallister had thumped down and brought half a dozen Freys.
Brienne only cared about Sansa. She let the Greatjon deal with the musicians, the Northerner swinging the table like it was a club and charged across the floor, terrified it would be too late and Sansa would have been mercilessly cut down. A Frey with a pimply face tried to stop her; he failed at the cost of a number of his teeth and the smashing of a wine flagon. He also dropped his dagger and Brienne's boot dislodged a few more of his teeth as she grabbed it from his wrist, breaking that as she did. She continued to move across the floor, avoiding the fighting Freys, Northerners and loyal Rivermen.
A few feet from her the old man Walder Frey was yelling that he'd have his revenge, though it wasn't going well. His eldest son however moving towards Sansa and her Mother, a sword in his hand and though Robb was in front of them, his serving knife looked no match. Despite the danger Sansa was in Brienne didn't panic or throw herself forward, she knew there were too many people in the way and Sansa and her family would be dead before she got there. There was another way. She elbowed another Frey down and grasped Walder Frey, sticking a dagger to his throat, "Tell them to throw down their weapons," she yelled so loudly she was heard above the tumult. To emphasise the point she stuck the knife enough into the old man's throat it drew blood.
His voice wasn't as loud as it had been, but generations of Freys had trained themselves to listen out for their Lord or else get his barbs and displeasure. "Stop, do as she says." A few threw down their weapons and he shouted again, "Do it." More heard him and pulled back from the fighting. Then the last ones realised the battle was quieting and heard him call, "Throw them down now you fools."
It gained Lord Frey an extra two days of life, before he was taken out and personally beheaded by Robb, a dozen of his sons, grandsons and great-grandsons who'd been most culpable in the treason following him.
*
"The ship will hug the coast," said Robb, "The Iron Islanders are further out, they won't want to come into the bay, too much risk that they'll be trapped." He turned and looked at the wooden craft to which he was entrusting his mother and eldest sister. Brienne turned with him. It was barely larger than a fishing smack, with a crew of a dozen, who fought for space with the wooden crates it normally carried. The only two cabins were for the captain and the mate, though they were bunking with the crew, leaving one for Brienne and one for Catelyn and Sansa. "It should take you to White Harbour in a night and a day; they'll be safe with Wyman Manderly. He's a good man."
"Are you sure they shouldn't travel by land?" Brienne asked, "I know there are broken men on the roads, but with a proper escort..."
"I'm sometimes not sure of anything, truth be told, but no. The Freys did this with Roose Bolton and the Lannisters, I need to march South quickly whilst they're thinking I'm dead." A Raven had flown to Kings Landing with a fanciful, if fake, report of the Frey wedding massacre, "I can't spare a dozen men, all I can spare is someone who is worth a dozen on her own." Brienne blushed, Robb had the easy grace of a King and she was proud to bow to him, even as she felt his sister's loving eyes on her as she swore to be his leal servant.
The redhead was in the cabin she would share with her Mother, it would be hells to be so close to her during the voyage but so far away. Brienne knew that would be her life, she would never regret those times with Sansa but they couldn't happen again; Sansa would be married to a real man, some member of the nobility who's loyalty Robb needed. And Brienne - she would fuck a whore when she landed in White Harbour and Sansa was safe.
"You should go, you'll need to catch the tide," said Robb and clasped her shoulder almost like they were equals. "Once they're safe return to me."
"Yes, your Grace," Brienne replied and headed up the gangplank. Even as she was stepping onto the ship the captain was yelling orders as his men pulled up the wooden walkway dockhands were undoing the ropes. Brienne moved towards Catelyn, the older woman standing on the sides watching her son depart for the wars.
For a moment the two of them stood in silence, a light rain drizzled down, not enough to leave them more than damp and it matched Brienne's mood. The dock receded until all that could be seen were the dark shapes of the storehouses and dockers cottages, silhouetted by the descending sun.
Catelyn turned to Brienne, "I need to thank you for saving both my daughter and son."
"It was nothing my lady," Brienne blushed.
"It was to me," said Catelyn, she hadn't her son's easy charisma, but when she smiled she meant it as much as he did. "I'll take the mate's room, you should share with Sansa."
Brienne frowned, confused, did the Catelyn think the young woman needed protection? Wendell Manderly had sworn to their loyalty to the King in the North and truth to be told, they didn't look like rapers or pirates, but old seamen stained by years ploughing the waves. "Do you not want to share with her, my lady? I am quiet happy to take the smaller cabin, I'm not so big."
Catelyn laughed, "Brienne, do you and Sansa think I am blind? Robb and the men may not notice, they never notice women unless they're the centre of our attention, but I have seen how Sansa looks at you and those coy glances you give her in return."
Brienne blushed, "I wouldn't... I mean... I kept Sansa a maid."
"Please Brienne, you blush even redder when you lie, I could light a fire with your cheeks. Sansa is no maiden."
Brienne nodded, unwilling to lie more, "It was not her fault, my Lady, she was alone and scared."
"Many are on the night they lose there maidenhood, even those of us with our husbands," Catelyn smiled, "But Sansa was, I'm sure, happy to give hers to you."
"I..." Brienne was not a courtier with rapid wit and her tongue felt as large in her mouth as her mind felt as small in her head.
Catelyn smiled, "You should go to her, it might be the last chance you get." Her smile got sadder, "If there's two things I've learnt the last years, you never know what the future holds and you need to get happiness where you can, and you make Sansa happy which makes me happy. Now go, before it gets too wet."
"My lady," Brienne gave a small bow and turned to the cabin.
*
Sansa was brushing her hair, it was one of her finer features in a young woman who had so many features other young ladies would have killed for. The brush stroked gently down, parting the strands and creating a smooth shine, like a bronze sun rippling over water. But she wasn't thinking about her hair, the movements were mechanical like one of those very expensive clockwork toys she'd once seen a trader from Braavos demonstrate. All her thoughts were on Brienne, her lover, so near but separated by so much she might have been in Braavos herself. The door opened and Sansa tried to rearrange her face so she didn't look so downcast for her Mother; after all she was a noble lady and should remain a pillar of stability in these times - despite, or more because, of the dangers she had been in.
"You look beautiful," the voice was not that of her Mothers, lacking the lilt of the Riverlands that not even her two decades in the North could remove. The door closed as Sansa was turning.
"Brienne," she almost cried out the words. She was unable to control her emotions enough to stop herself standing up and skipping across the small cabin to hug her lover close, her head resting on the older woman's leather jerkin. "I've missed you." She looked up into Brienne's face, so handsome and strong.
"I've missed you as well," Brienne's mouth was creased upwards in a warm smile. She lowered her head to kiss Sansa gently, the younger redhead blushing and fighting to keep herself under control as she felt her lover's lips brushing down her nose and over her own mouth.
She forced her head back, breathing deeply, "We cannot. My Mother could be here any moment. We must keep our secret, for you as well as me."
Brienne didn't look worried, "Lady Catelyn has taken the other cabin, she has given this one for the night." She paused and ran a hand through Sansa's hair before kissing her tenderly again, the younger woman vibrating at the slow push of her lover's lips on hers. "She knows you're no maiden and does not mind."
"She doesn't?" Sansa didn't know whether she should be overjoyed or shocked, so she settled for a happy confusion. "We can be together?"
"For the night at least and then who knows the road ahead, I'll return to Robb anon and you'll be at White Harbour until we can conquer back Winterfell from the traitor."
"We have tonight then," Sansa smiled, "We should make the most of it."
This time when Brienne's mouth was on hers Sansa's mouth opened and the tender kiss became more passionate, less gentle, more hungry. Their lips pressed and pushed at each other, Brienne's tongue probing forward to meet Sansa's, the two lithe muscles wrapping around each other like two dragon's wrestling. One of Brienne's strong hands was on Sansa's bottom, squeezing and kneading the plump, round rear, making the redhead even more excited. There was a clump as Brienne's released her sword belt and the weapon fell to the wooden floor. Her second hand joined the first, gripping the cheeks under the dress, pulling Sansa towards her.
The two lovers kissed heartily, the floor gently rolling under them as the ship sailed over the waves. Sansa pulled off Brienne's leather jerkin and then undid her shirt, still kissing the older woman as she did. Brienne's small, firm nipples jutted out in excitement, but Sansa didn't touch them - she knew Brienne's preferences were to be like a man. So next she reached down for the breeches, pulling at the knots to undo them. The woman's weapon came out and Sansa stroked it with her hand, feeling the smooth wood under her palm. Brienne was undoing her dress, slipping it from her shoulders and down to her waist. She undid the straps of the smallclothes next, letting it to fall. If Brienne didn't like having her own bosom suckled she had no problem with Sansa's and her mouth moved to the teats, licking and kissing them, taking them in her mouth and slurping them greedily.
Sansa gave a most unladylike moan; she knew she should be embarrassed about her enthusiasm for having her tits gobbled, but she also knew Brienne was forgiving about the little squeaks and groans the redhead gave as they made love. She placed her hand on the back of the warrior's head, pressing it down. Brienne's sucked harder, swallowing the teat and sucking it so hard the teeth grazed as Sansa's hard nipple. The redhead moaned again, rocking and shaking. Her hands reached for her dress, pushing it all the way down, her small clothes following so all she was wearing were a pair of leather slippers; the deck was cold and she thought there might be splinters so she kept them on.
She kicked her dress across the floor in a way that would have astounded her just a month before. Then she dropped to her knees on it using it as a rug. "Let me prepare your weapon, Ser," she smiled up at Brienne.
The older woman nodded, smiling as Sansa pulled the trousers down further. The woman's weapon stuck out in front of her. She knew her ladyhole would be wet enough for it to enter her easily, she could already feel it getting damper, but she also knew some extra lubrication from her mouth did no harm. Beside Brienne enjoyed it when she sucked her woman's weapon and Sansa liked anything that Brienne did. The redhead's tongue went out and she slid it around and up the wooden pole, sliding over the smooth shaft making it even more polished and shiny.
"MMmnnn," Brienne was groaning in anticipation, looking down at Sansa with love in her eyes. "Oh Sansa, you're so beautiful."
The redhead knew that was true, everyone told her, but it was only when Brienne said it that the words meant anything. "You're so handsome and strong," she said back smiling coyly, before sliding her tongue all the way down the wooden shaft. Brienne groaned in reply, one of her hands brushing through Sansa's red hair, the other grasping the bunk for support.
"Mmnnn, yum," Sansa opened her mouth and slipped down the weapon. She didn't go all the way, it was too big, but she was able to suck at the top half, her heading bobbing up and down it. Her only ladyhole was moist with an compelling itch, that she had to touch, her fingers rolling round the lips and over the hidden bud she'd found. It didn't remove the itch, if anything it made it worse, but it also made it more pleasurable. She moved faster, pressing the toy down against Brienne and into the side of her cheek. Her fingers pressed naughtily into her own hole, sliding up and down as a precursor to the woman's weapon that would soon be spearing her.
"Ooohhh Sansa, ooohh, please don't stop, you don't know how much I like you sucking my weapon," Brienne moaned.
The redhead sucked harder, taking in as much as she could before she choked. Her own ladyhole was soaking, burning with excitement as she fingered it speedily, the juice staining her fingers and dripping onto her dress. She pushed deeper and faster, stirring the wet hole, swishing round and round the wall, making herself feel good. All the time she kept her eyes upward, looking at Brienne's face, watching the older woman smile and grunt as the redhead pushed the weapon against her lover's cunt with her mouth.
"Urrrhh, Sansa, you're making my weapon wet, mmmmnn it's just like a real cock," Brienne moaned.
Sansa was both turned on and shocked by the coarseness, even though she knew it was only when alone that Brienne would utter such obscenities. Still the dirty talk always secretly thrilled her and her mouth pushed harder at the weapon, pressing and rubbing it her lover. The effect was as the redhead wished, Brienne's face creasing in pleasure, her smile widening. "Ohhhh Sansa, ooohhh yes, you're so good with your mouth. MMmnnn the cock is so wet."
Sansa was proud of how good she'd become at pleasuring her lover, sucking Brienne's... cock... until it was soaking. Her own hole was damp and ready, the fingers could only do so much. Brienne seemed to sense her desire, as she pulled the cock back, letting it drip down. "We should go to the bed," she said.
Sansa nodded, removing her slippers and getting under the covers off the bottom bunk, sure that the top one would be unused. She watched as Brienne leant against a wall, unlacing her boots and pulling them off, before bringing her trousers all the way. she turned to hang the sword belt over the door-peg allowing Sansa to admire her firm ass and muscular, solid back. Then she was turning, the woman's weapon swaying in front of her as she walked the few steps that separated them. She got onto the bed, onto Sansa, her hard body pressing down at the redhead's as she brought the covers over them. Sansa was already kissing her.
Brienne kissed her back, her lips both soft and hard on the redhead's, the malleable skin pressing firmly at Sansa's. Their mouths opened and their tongues touched and teased as they moved up and down. Sansa could feel Brienne's hand between her legs, encouraging her legs to open. The younger woman did so willingly, her own hand reaching down for the smooth weapon and guiding it to its proper sheath.
It always felt so good to be inside her and tonight was no exception. It was hard and solid, but with an underlying flexibility and softness - the wood's properties making it useless for timber, but fantastic as a woman's weapon. Sansa didn't know what the real thing was like, but she was sure it could never feel as good as the fake. The weapon slid down her hole as if the Seven had designed the hole with it in mind. Sansa groaned in bliss as it rubbed at her sweet spots, the pleasure greater than her fingers could produce.
Brienne was moving, thrusting the weapon into Sansa slowly, but firmly, driving it down deep into her ladyhole. The redhead gasped in pleasure, her arms wrapping around Brienne's back to encourage her in. The older woman needed little encouragement, but she still smiled lovingly, her mouth descending for a long lingering kiss, even as her hips continued to ratchet up and in. The redhead returned the kissing with equal passion, her mouth opening over her lovers; her hips moved and swayed, her ladyhole moving up to meet the weapon. Brienne came down on her, the older woman's body squashing the redhead's plump teats as she paused long enough to kiss her properly, before rising again.
"OOOhhh," moaned Sansa in the gap before Brienne's mouth returned to hers. Her ladyhole felt special; aching with pleasure. The weapon went in and out, hard and deep, gradually going faster, interspersed with pauses as Brienne stopped to kiss the redhead hard before rising again.
"OOohhhh, yesss," Sansa spoke out her happiness. Her hands were gripping Brienne's, her nails like claws in her lover's back. Brienne didn't seem to mind, continuing to go up and down, ramming faster and quicker, her muscular body pressing Sansa's soft womanly one into the bedding. The redhead's world was rocking, the motion of the boat on the waves nothing compared to the pounding from her lover, the hard weapon spearing into her hole with a passionate brutality.
"AAArrrrghhh, Ser, oooohhh Brienne, you know its so good, aaaarrghhh," the familiar wave of pleasure rose in Sansa. It was so intense it was like a religious experience, a feeling that the Seven were within her and a feeling of being in heaven possessed her. It had been so long since she had felt it, not since the night before they found her Mother and Robb, a night they'd spent in an Inn making love for hours. "AAArrrghh, yessss, ooohhh Ser, yessss, use your weapon right."
The ecstasy, as that was what it was, became even more powerful, forcing screams from her lips and thoughts from her head. She became an animal, her lusts uncontrolled as she screamed and rocked under her lover, her hands gripping the older woman's shoulder blades as she slammed in. The bed squeaked even louder than the rest of wooden planks, the sounds from outside being drowned by the young woman's sexual cries. Her legs reached round and gripped Brienne's, her heels beating a drumbeat against the other's firm calves. All the time Brienne continued to rise and fall, pounding into her, a loving smile on her face as if she couldn't believe this was a reality.
Slowing Brienne waited for Sansa's cries to subside before leaning in to kiss her again. The kiss was long, slow and loving, a perfect counterpart to the hard lovemaking they'd being doing. "I love you Sansa," Brienne said as she raised her head again.
"I love you as well," the younger woman replied, staring into Brienne's eyes, hoping that they would swallow her and whisk her away.
"Whatever happens in the future, remember that," Brienne continued, "Even if this is our last night." She thrust in again, hard and fast, so that Sansa's only reply could be a squeal.
The lovemaking resumed with the passion of before, the two of them grunting and panting, their bodies melding together as if they were one. The ship sailed on, its wooden planks creaking and groaning, the swish of waves lapping against its hull.
*
If you have any views on this or any other of my stories, please e-mail me at llfic72@gmx.co.uk
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The Lady and her Man