Oathkeeper

Chapter 36: Father, Smith, Warrior, Mother

House Payne and House Tarth are scheduled to go before the Old Gods and ask for their blessing in merrily unifying the two houses. The Queen made sure Podrick and Ilizabeth were granted everything they wished for in order to ensure their private wedding was a day filled with love and stories to tell their children, and their children's children. She handled the expenses for food, flowers, and whatever form of small level of entertainment they requested. Having personally oversaw the decision making in terms of wardrobe, Sansa made sure they would both look their absolute best. Although the bride's appearance was naturally appealing, the way Ilizabeth's stretched petite frame enhanced the size of her breasts made her wedding gown look more beyond beautiful. Ever since they first laid eyes on each other, the engaged couple could not stop talking about how they were set to marry soon, and finally, that day arrived.

Brienne stood with Podrick, Weslyy, and Gordar inside of the boy's private chambers, making sure he remained in high spirits for the day. Jaslyn, Sansa's favorite seamstress in Winterfell aside from her mother, old nan, and herself, was put in charge of sewing the outfits together being that the Queen was preoccupied with a handful of things. The middle aged northern woman performance was more than stellar and Sansa was sure to pay extra thanks for her hard work.

The three sat on whatever surfaces sprawled out across the room, all watching Podrick. Maedalyn held his well polished doublet out, slipping his arms into the sleeves first. She moved to his front and pulled the opening of the top further onto his shoulder gently. The base of his doublet was golden with  thinly threaded rhombus shaped patterns sewn repeatedly in purple throughout the chest. The sleeves were made from thick plain black wool, serving to protect the boy from the bleak weather. Her gently hard working hands rubbed against his chest in a downward motion smoothing out the fabric of the doublet to perfection. The bottom hem of it came down at the middle of the boy's shins, leaving only a slither of the wool black pants that matched his sleeves well. She took a step back to get a final good look at him. Her eyes trailed down to his tall brown leather boots that sat up stiffly over pants legs before pressing her hands together in a satisfied sigh.

"Is this what it's like to be a Queen?" Weslyy asked Brienne.

The woman's mind was far from the contents of whatever conversation they had. Lately she couldn't help but feel an overwhelming need to be close to her lover at all times. She often found herself crippled in a state of worry whenever a few hours without hearing from the Queen went by. Still, the more she spent her days all working up, the closer she was to leaving them behind. Her anticipation skyrocketed today, realizing that after Podricks wedding finally came hers.

"What was that?" Brienne asks, snapping out of her haze.

"I asked if you're pampered like this every morning too?" Weslyy smirked.

She now laid eyes on Podrick who couldn't stop itching the area where the collar of his doublet chafed against his neck. His stubby grimy nails clawed at his neck collecting some of the dead skin follicles underneath it. He left a hot slushed mark just underneath the right side of his jaw. Laughter built inside of Brienne and Weslyy as they watched Podricks nerves pour out of him.

"No, that's just the Queen," Brienne laughed.

"But you'll soon be a Queen too" He spoke.

A Queen. Before meeting Sansa, Brienne had said that word fewer than ten times in her entire life. The concept of a woman leading the realms of Westeros was either very short lived, or completely unheard of. She never thought she'd see one in her lifetime, nor did she predict ever falling in love with one. But becoming one? Until this very moment, she'd put zero thought into the idea. Still, it remained true. In marrying the Queen, she would be one too. A benign lump formed in her throat as she began to think of the attention they'd receive. Her public speaking anxiety rose at the thought of ever having to address the realm as a Queen.