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Brienne had thought herself the best swordswoman in Westeros until she met Arya Stark.
“Y’know, it’s been quite a few years since we’ve had a real sword fight.” Arya mentioned one afternoon.
Brienne nodded, resting her hand on her pommel as they walked. “No, we haven’t.”
It was a beautiful sunny afternoon in Tarth, where Arya and Brienne had decided to reside after everything had settled down and peace had returned to the Seven Kingdoms.
“What do you say?” Arya asked, putting her own hand on her sword. “Are you up for a little duel amongst lovers?”
The older woman raised an eyebrow and drew her sword as quickly as possible, only to meet Arya’s Needle with a loud clang.
Arya smirked. “You’ll have to do a little better than that, love.”
Brienne pressed her lips together in a tight-lipped smile and fought harder, refusing to let Arya win. Their swords met just as they had: with a harsh clang that reverberated off the courtyard walls.
Arya managed to get in a light hit on her shoulder, and Brienne responded with knocking Arya off her feet. The small girl didn’t stay down, instead rolling away from her sword and jumping up behind her, quickly making two hits on the legs before Brienne could turn back around and attempt to hit her on the arm.
Arya dodged her blow and struck a few more until Brienne knocked her directly on her back and pressed the sword to her neck.
“Do you forfeit?” Brienne asked, smirking ever so slightly.
Arya grimaced, but set her sword aside. “Under one condition.” Brienne’s eyebrow raised. Arya took a minute to smirk. “I’m the one who gets to be on top in about three and a half minutes.”
Brienne smiled and let up her sword, sheathing it. “I accept.”
Arya considered for a moment doing the dishonorable thing and pressing her sword to Brienne, but desire won out and she quite ungracefully hurried after Brienne.