Chapter Text
Her night shift is lifted over her hips as her husband pounds on her. Her breath is ragged and wild and she’s sure her face is an unbecoming red but he holds so firmly by the hips, his touch so careful and precise as he drives himself into her that she can’t stop the little moans from her mouth. His eyes are wide, barely the blue in them is visible against his black pupils and he almost appears to be glaring at her.
She whimpers beneath him.
It hurts. Not as much as it could or as she was warned and not so much as when he first entered but... she would be feeling this for days.
It feels unlike a blow from the flat of a sword or a broken bone -something she has know- but being mostly naked under him makes her more vulnerable than any match in the training yard had had. More vulnerable than she felt when Red Ron called off their engagement.
And she knows that though not as callous, he dislikes her as much Red Ron did.
She saw his face when she removed the veil she was ordered to wear by the queen and she had been utterly terrified that after undressing he would reject the marriage and request an annulment to avoid the consummation.
So when he offered to delay the bedding she rejected it. Even when she thinks he did it out of courtesy to her since he saw her trembling and crying she could not risk annulment nor gossip about her husband disliking her so much that he rejected her on the first night.
She could not shame her father again, two times a betrothal had fallen apart already, the last one with the heir of a disgraced knightley house rejecting her and if not for Lord Stannis’s suit she would have been the bride of Ser Humphrey Wagstag, an unpleasant man older than his father and with a mistress in tow.
So, with her whole body trembling, she had looked at his eyes, and quickly away after realizing they were of the same height, and then she nodded before letting him push her against the bed.
Her septa’s teachings were on her mind the whole time
To let him do as he pleases, to endure the bedding to be blessed with a child. To stop being stubborn and willful and turn in an obedient and mild mannered wife and earn his respect after giving him a son since she could never retain his interest with her looks.
To be forbearing if or when he takes a mistress -There were rumours after all from a red headed woman from essos- and to only demand he doesn’t bring her to the castle and keeps his bastards away from her and her trueborn children. To manage his keep cautiously and mindfully. To keep his honor with her behavior.To raise his daughter into a proper maid, to be a perfect example to the girl and never touch a sword again to not earn his wrath.
To leave behind everything that makes her happy for the sake of her house's future, to not disappoint her father more. To be reminded she would not be in the position they thought she would have been, that her husband would not join her house but she would join another his. That by rights she’s the wife of a prince even if the king never granted that title to any of his brothers.
That Stannis Baratheon is hard, unbending and bitter and never forgets any slights, that her looks already are the talk of the whole court. That he has been humiliated many times already by the king, first by being stripped from Storm's end, then by less than pleasant looks of the lady Selyse, who is wildly remembered by having a mustache, then by then king bedding the lady’s cousin in their marital bed and now by being married to an ugly mannish maid like herself.
That she should not make more cause to sow discontent in her marriage.
And Brienne had understood her septa in a way she probably never had before as Stannis Baratheon looked at her with contempt but she had accepted it for what it was, so she had forced her tears to dry.
This was her duty, she had reminded herself.
This is our duty he had said and she had understood him.
He didn't want him but he had to. She didn't want him but she had to.
And with that, they had fallen quiet and he had stopped to glare at her with annoyance before making an awkward expression and … kissing her.
She certainly knew what not to expect but him kissing her she never imagined.
Despite what his girlish fantasies concocted about black haired blue eyed men that treated her kindly he was not like that.
His lips were thin and soft in contrast with his rough scratchy beard and she had gasped in surprise at the end. He appeared alarmed before assuring her he would be gentle. His words had been awkward as she looked owlishly at him and he himself had blushed a little as he patted her arms, trying to comfort her.
Her cheeks had been deep pink as she felt his hands which had been rough and sword calloused, even more than hers had been before she was forced to stop her training by the septa more than half a year ago.
His movements were jerky for moments as he undid some of the laces of the corset but he had not been unkind. Then he slowly walked backwards until they fell on the bed.
She blushes as she remembers his heavy weight over her and how she had squeaked. She blushes even more when remembering how his eyes grew darker at that, and how his big hands had lifted her shift before he started to poke at her.
That had been unpleasant. She didn’t know if she still had her maidenhead after years from tumbling and roughhousing like a boy as her septa said but it had hurt when his digits had spread her folds and touched her opening.
When he pushed the first knuckle in, she had cried out and he had looked at her hard and almost with an angry expression, her courage had failed her. She had started to squirm in distress until she felt his cold lips on her and stopped.
Relax, lady wife.
His kisses had been no more than his lips softly over hers, nothing more, she had no experience of course but she believed that supposed to be different, that the men on the training yard didn't brag just for that . Either way, it had been enough to distract her from his fingers trying to breach her again and soon being replaced by his manhood.
He had to hold her down for that since it had hurt terribly . It burned and stung as if he was cutting her with a knife and she couldn’t help but really start to struggle to get away.
She had been too surprised when she noticed she couldn't. Though as tall and strong as many men on the isle of Tarth already and with much more muscle than highborn maidens should have, Stannis Baratheon was stronger . His gaze had been cold again as he barked at her to relax while his palm traveled over her small breasts.She had bitten her lips as his thumb had started to draw circles over her nipples before he retracted and started to thrust in her.
A soldier through and through he has been described and for the first time in her life she felt as unguarded as the majority of women must have felt.
Tears had fallen over cheeks and dried as he kept going but she didn't believe he had done it more painful than it was supposed to be.
And now that it has finally ended she finds herself in an awkward position, not knowing what to do or what to say. His blue eyes gaze hard again as he removes himself from her and rolls over before he washes himself with a basin at the side of the bed.
Her heart grows empty as she starts to feel all the aches in her body and when she is surprised when he bends over and quickly kisses her cheek.
‘’Rest well, Brienne’’.
Her face blushed again.