「 ⚔ ▓▐▐〝 astormsend. 」

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                                         His eyes drop to the floor. His clothes had been easy to find, they happened to just be beside his side of the bed. “Uh” He wonders, walking around the room his eyes on the floor as he tried to find them. He reached down and grabbed what appeared to be a gown. That OBVIOUSLY didn’t belong to him. He also found a pair of breeches, a shirt of some kind, one that had many laces ( he couldn’t tell if it was his own ) and a few pieces of small clothes. 

                                        Practically every piece of clothing that had littered the floor was now scooped up into his arms. He made the short walk back to her side of the bed and let them fall from his arms onto her lap.

                                        He offered her almost a silly smile after the action. “They’ll be somewhere in here. I’ve retrieved everything off the floor. Unless they’ve been left outside of the room?” That could be a possibility. He didn’t want to venture from his chambers just yet though. All the movement was doing him good. It was helping to clear his head and distract him from the throbbing pain.

                                        He was beginning  to find the whole situation  silly. Never in his life could he imagine being married, and especially not to the ugliest maid in all of Westeros said by some. It was a perfect match in his opinion, he didn’t dwell on the looks of women the way most men did. Truthfully he didn’t care how she appeared. It did NOT seem like the marriage was consummated either, he was beginning to put the clues together. No matter, if perhaps she’d WANT to do that task with him, he’d find some excuse or another to put it off until it was absolutely impossible.

                                        “I’ll give you some privacy to dress” He said kindly and headed off to the other side of the room to where his personal wardrobe was. 

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                                                         Her gaze trailed after him, watching as he moved away. Only when he disappeared from view ( and she waited several seconds after that, until she was certain he would not come back out ) did she carefully peel the furs from herself, pushing them aside and moving her clothes back over to herself. One by one, she dressed in her clothing; it wasn’t difficult to pick out which pieces were hers and which were… there by proxy. Those she set aside. The gown she also set aside, unwilling to wear such a thing when it was no longer their wedding. It has been mandatory, of course; not even requesting to her father than she be allowed to wear trousers instead of a gown had worked for her. Tradition dictated. She did remember feelings awfully uncomfortable in it, though she did not whine. It was difficult to walk in them.

                                  She stood staring down at the discarded gown in nothing more than trousers and a shirt light enough to be considered nothing at all. Suddenly aware of herself, she looked around, back toward where Renly had gone –––– good, he wasn’t looking. She hadn’t expected him to; he was far more honorable than that. As honorable as my father, she thought.

                                               Breath drawn; then she moved away, went to her own and found another uppercloth she truly wanted, changed into that quickly. She found her boots by the side of her bed and pulled those on, grunting air thorough her nostrils as she tightened them. Wherever they had to go today… others would surely watch them, ask if they had consummated their marriage last night. Perhaps they would check if the sheets ––––

                    The thought stopped Brienne in her tracks. Then she was moving to pull the bedding off, heart beating rapidly in her chest. If they saw no blood here, they might suspect that they hadn’t done their duty last night. There were no aches in her that told her it happened, so she believed it didn’t. Even so…

                                       Renly, ”      she called nervously,      we need to burn this.