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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 Seven

There was silence for a moment or two, and she was the first to break it. “Tormund. It's just a word. But it's been used to hurt me by... there were lots of them. Please, I can't hear it any other way now. You don't know. You can't know.”

Clegane frowned at hearing her speak it out loud. He'd suspected something like that, of course, but hearing her say it. She hadn't been explicit, but he imagined it – lots of them – and he had to stand up because he felt a sudden, urgent need to do violence, and there was no one here to do it to. It was all too easy for him to understand. He remembered for himself all the times he'd been called 'dog' or 'monster' and the humiliation that came with it. And he was a man. He imagined how much worse that humiliation must be for her, a woman, and he heard himself growl, his hands closing into fists.

“When you look at him, what do you see?” The words broke through his rage. They'd been talking while he was deep in his thoughts, but he hadn't been listening. Now he did.

“What do you mean?”

Yes, what the fuck did he mean?! Clegane opened his eyes and glared at Tormund. Only, the wildling was smiling at him, as if he knew some secret that neither he nor Brienne did yet.

“Do you see that scar on his face?” Tormund asked.

“Yes,” she replied, slowly.

“Does he look like a monster to you?” Tormund asked plainly.

Clegane growled to complete the impression, apparently unable to help himself. So as to avoid killing Tormund in misplaced anger, he switched to gaze helplessly at Brienne. How could she see anything else? Fuck!

“Of course not,” she said, as if insulted on his behalf, and he blinked in surprise, his bitterness and rage draining away. She got up from the bed and walked towards him. “I see the scar, but it is a part of him. Of Sandor. Of my...” she faltered, but the look on her face as she reached out and touched his cheek. She smiled. “The best fight I ever had.” She wound her arms around his neck and pulled him close, setting her cheek against his, mindless of the scar. “First kiss.”

“Ah,” said Tormund from behind them, nodding. “So then. You think he is beautiful?”

He felt her freeze, and then she drew back to look into his eyes, and she was so tall. They were on the same level. Equals. Some kind of realisation dawned in her eyes. “Yes,” she whispered, surprised. It was the truth. He saw it shining in her and yet he wondered how it could even be possible. He had no words for the feelings that suddenly coursed through him. He'd never felt them before in his life.

“What makes you any different to him?” Tormund said, turning the tables at exactly the right moment. Clegane saw her insecurities flood in, and he stopped her turning away, shaking his head: No.

“Hear this,” Clegane said seriously.

“But I'm not...” she argued, and her face fell, that adorable frown creasing her brow between her eyebrows. Clegane grinned at her. “My mouth is too big for my face,” she said.

Immediately, a very dirty thought came to him about how big her mouth was, and how big his dick was. Tormund's, too, and he he laughed out loud. Behind them, the wildling's laugh was even dirtier than his. Brienne continued to frown for a moment before she got it.

“Oh!” she said, her mouth hanging open slightly, then she dropped her eyes to his cock, shut her mouth with a snap and covered it with one hand. She sneaked a sly look behind her to Tormund, then turned back to him. She appeared to still be considering it, moving her hand only to moisten her lips with the tip of her tongue as she dropped her eyes again.

“I thought you needed to recover?” she said, her cheeks burning with colour. He looked down at his cock too, which was indeed stirring, and inclined his head.

“Well, if you're going to stand there, thinking of sucking it, that kind of thing's gonna happen.”

Behind them, Tormund cleared his throat. “The first time you two met you tried to kill each other. He's loved you from the moment he first saw you, whether he knew it or not.”

Clegane frowned at that, but the wildling had a fair point. Ever since that day, he'd been thinking about her. Until it had eventually brought him here. If he'd never seen her again, he would have been thinking about her for the rest of his life. Wanting her whether he knew it or not.

Her lips were set in a straight line. “I'm too tall,” she tried. Clegane grinned at her, and stepped forward. Perfect for him, for them both. She stepped back. “Too strong,” she argued. He laughed in her face as she stopped moving and he pressed the length of his body against hers. She was so tall, his newly awakened cock pressed against her pubic mound. He drew in a hissing breath of want, but did nothing else. Tormund was behind her, his hands creeping around her waist, his chin resting on her shoulder.

“You're the most beautiful woman he's ever seen,” he said to her, and she blinked rapidly. “You're the most beautiful woman I've ever seen.”

Something painful seemed to occur to her, and she turned around in their arms, much to Clegane's disappointment, dislodging him. “Tormund, I don't...” she said, then trailed off. The wildling patted her hair.

“I know. I wait. It's all right.” He led her back to the bed. “Tonight we make no claim of love. Tonight we reclaim beauty, yes? Fuck the idiots.”

Clegane followed. “Fuck the idiots,” he echoed.

She clambered onto the bed, until they were back where they started, with her in the middle. She looked from Tormund to him, more confident than before. She drew in a deep breath. “Fuck the idiots,” she said. Tormund laughed deeply.

“Now, beauty, where were we?” The wildling took her hand in both of his, raised it to his lips, and dragged the fingers of one hand down the entire length of her arm, down past the inner elbow. Brienne shivered delicately.

“How do you do that?” she asked, already seeming lost again.

“For years, I spent my life practising what I would do when I finally found you,” he said. The hand that had moved down over her arm, bypassed her chest and returned to her stomach. Brienne moaned in need. “Want some more?” She nodded, and the wildling suddenly slapped her thigh, earning an undignified shriek.

“Good. Turn over, beauty. You have too much hardness in you. We will work it out of you before we continue.”

She cast a dark look at him, but did as he asked, turning onto her front and folding her arms so that she could rest her chin upon them. Those same bruises were on her back too, and Clegane sighed, but said nothing. Tormund nodded at him. “There is oil, yes?”

For once, feeling completely out of his depth, Clegane nodded. He passed the bottle over. Tormund covered his hands with it, rubbing them together. So he did the same, replacing the bottle on the night stand. Thinking he knew now what came next, he made to lay his hands on her back, until the wildling shook his head and grabbed his wrist to stop him.

“We start at the feet, and work her up nice and slow. It's not a race to the top.”

Clegane frowned, but followed Tormund's lead, taking one foot while he had the other, easing the oil over the soles of her feet, getting to know the precise nature of her heel and instep, massaging the ball of the foot, noting the length and position of each of the toes, the bone structure of her ankles. Brienne wasn't completely passive during this strange ritual either. She had ticklish feet, and giggles drifted down to them now and again, as she tried to pull her feet away, her soles crinkling up in a mixture of protest and delight. But Tormund persevered, until all such reactions ceased, and she relaxed, her feet and ankles limp, all the tension gone.

Then it was onto her calves. Touching her this way, non sexually, it gave him an insight into her body. How muscular she was, how strong, and his respect for her increased ten-fold. He was a big man himself, and it didn't just happen by magic. Plenty of big men were just fat underneath their clothes and armour. Real strength took maintenance and discipline, and it must be even more difficult for a woman to maintain. Otherwise, he reasoned to himself, there would be more Brienne's around.

He found he couldn't resist a kiss to the back of her knee. But then, neither could the wildling, so that worked out rather well. She laughed strangely at that, but that was all. She said nothing, made no protest, and they continued up to the backs of her thighs, working away the tension with deep long movements interspersed with little ones. Clegane followed Tormund's lead faithfully, and Brienne's body seemed almost to melt into the bed below their hands.

Tormund seemed uninterested in her hips and buttocks, which made Clegane sigh, and instead they spent the longest period of time on her back, refreshing the oil on their hands several times. Lightly pressing, not heavy. Long sweeping movements as her skin warmed beneath the combined touch of four large hands. Their thumbs on the back of her neck, delicate work, smoothing the tension away there, the heels of their hands working on her shoulders until she moaned some nonsense into the pillows that he couldn't understand.

At long last, Tormund took her right arm, while Clegane had her left, and he rubbed it between his palms in a new kind of massage. Clegane copied, until they reached the end of her, right down to her fingertips, and they set her hands down by her sides.

“Help me turn her over now,” Tormund said, his voice hushed. “Carefully. She will be floppy now.”

Floppy?! Clegane frowned, but they turned her between them, and he was right, she was as relaxed as a rag doll, as if she was made of a collection of sighs and water. Her eyes were so dark he caught his breath.

“Brienne?” he said, uncertain. She smiled.

“Oh, I feel so nice,” she said, stretching her arms above her head. “Why didn't you show me how to do that to you?” He gulped, and then jerked a thumb at Tormund.

“It was him.”

She bestowed that dark, sultry-eyed look on the wildling. “Mmm...” She sounded more like him than he did. Tormund chuckled.

“Now,” he said. “Now you are ready for pleasure, beautiful Brienne.”

She sighed. A long, drawn out thing. “Isn't this pleasure?”

“You have a lot to learn. Luckily, we are here to teach you.” It was growing darker. The lamps would need to be lit. For once, it wasn't that much of a chore to him, and he and Tormund finished it quickly as Brienne waited, watching them with that strange, dark-eyed stare.

As they returned to the bed, she opened her arms. “I want you,” she said, then seemed to realise what she'd uttered. Her eyes widened, and she stared at him and then Tormund, biting her lip.

“Are you asking me, beauty?”

She shook her head slowly. “No.” She swallowed, confused. “I don't think so. Not yet. Am I?” He laughed again, but seemed to relent.

“Tonight you can rely on me. I promised. I keep that promise no matter how many times you ask me. Hmm?”

Brienne smiled. “Yes. Yes, please.” Something seemed to occur to her, and it was as if Tormund had granted her some kind of freedom, because she suddenly laughed out loud. Clegane had to struggle to remember if he'd ever heard her laugh before. Perhaps he hadn't. Giggle, yes. Laugh? Never. It was a wonderfully feminine sound that made a great smile break out on his face. At least until she turned away from him and clambered on top of Tormund, holding him down to the bed.

“I want you,” she said, happy, suddenly all took up with the idea that she was entirely safe. Except that she didn't seem to understand certain things.

“Fucking hell!” Tormund said in alarm, gulping, turning his head helplessly. Because Tormund looked at him, Brienne seemed to notice him too, and she left Tormund, only to climb on top of him, repeating the manoeuvre, holding his wrists down to the bed. But she went further with him. Her knees were either side of his hips, and his cock was already standing just proud of his body as she wriggled upon it, getting harder by the second. He had to do something quick, or she was going to fucking impale herself. He growled at her instinctively and rolled them over, trapping her beneath him.

She struggled, so he used his weight to keep her down – had to – and it didn't help him, because she was so tall, and when she tried to move him by raising her hips... Gods he was nearly there! Clegane bit his bottom lip so hard it bled. He scowled at her but she was completely oblivious, because she didn't really understand.

“You're going the right way about getting a damn good, hard fucking, woman,” he said carefully. “From the both of us.”

She froze, her eyes wide. He shuddered, and willed his body to come back down, back under his own control, before he could make that one single movement and just end it all. His breathing was fast and heavy as he stared into her eyes. He still didn't trust her enough to let her go, and his forearms were leaning heavily on her wrists. “You can ask, is what he said. You can't writhe about on my cock like a bitch in heat...” He closed his eyes. “Fuck. You nearly did it, all by yourself, do you know that?”

Her eyes filled with humiliated tears then, and he hated himself for being the cause of them, but he'd needed to stop her somehow. “I'm sorry,” she said. “I just felt so light-headed after what you did, and then I felt safe with you, and I always do things, these things, wrong.” She screwed her face up, then sighed as if the world had already ended and the dead had won. “Let me go.” She struggled again, but with her arms, weakly.

“Not until you promise to stay,” he said.

“But I've made a terrible mess of everything! Just like always!” she bemoaned, and he smiled slowly.

“So what? We can start again,” he said simply.

She blinked up at him, astonished. “You mean you still want...? You still want to...? Try? Even though I did that?”

“Aye. If you think I'm going to give up on you any time soon just because somewhere deep inside you want my cock in you... Well, then, you really don't know much,” he teased, and she sniffled, then giggled, then hiccuped.

“Oops,” she said, her face burning. “Pardon me.” She drew in a shaky breath. She was the cutest thing he'd ever seen. Even though he couldn't forget that all the while his cock was resting right in the crease of her labia. At long last, she seemed to realise it too, because her face drained of colour, and he felt her inner thigh muscles twitch.

“Oh... my,” she said in alarm. “Get off!”

He couldn't resist teasing her, seeing as the danger was passed. “Will you stay?” he asked, stern as he could be.

“Yes, I will, I'll stay, I promise! Move!”

He leaned in close to her ear. “And are you gonna stop beating yourself up? Because I kinda enjoy it more when I can do it, in training.” He heard her shocked gasp, and wondered if he'd actually gone too far, and then felt her bite his neck. Not too hard, just a warning, and he laughed. Next lesson, then. “Oh, see, now you're really turning me on,” he murmured, and moved away to the side, setting her free.

He showed off his neck to Tormund and the wildling laughed. Brienne looked from one to the other. “Why are you laughing? Why is that funny?”

In answer, Tormund drew her close, as if to kiss her neck, and she let him, her head falling back and her eyelashes fluttering as her eyes closed. Clegane saw the moment the kiss changed to a bite. Heard it, because she cried out quietly, her hands came up to lay flat against Tormund's shoulders and her body relaxed back into the pliant state of earlier.

Payback had never been so sweet as when he took his place on the other side, and angled his own head, taking the other side of her neck. She cried out again, louder this time. “Oh, please, I do want you!” If only he wasn't so busy with his teeth, he might have taken the time to grin. Between them she squirmed, her lower body too, and he knew that whatever else had happened, she was beginning to feel it, that need. A need they would soon satisfy in her, even if they did keep their promise.

He made himself an additional promise, that he would taste her tonight.

To be continued...

Author's Note: Bueller...? Anyone...?
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We're All Going to Die