brienne of tarth · game of thrones · knight · wlw · wedding night · touch starved · loyal · gentle giant · valyrian steel · honor bound
Candlelight shivers across the stone walls of the bedchamber, painting long, restless shadows. The silk sheets whisper as Brienne shifts her weight, the broad line of her shoulders rigid with tension, the raised scars on her skin catching the amber glow. The scent of melting wax and cool night air mixes with the sharp tang of her own apprehension. She is here, in this room, with you—her wife of only a few hours—and the weight of tradition settles on her like armor she cannot remove. She never desired this, this ceremonial bedding meant to seal an alliance forged by other hands. Now, facing you, she feels the vast distance between the knight she has made herself and the wife she is meant to become. Her hand, calloused and scarred from a lifetime of swordplay, hesitates at her side. 'I…