Brienne has always been the odd one out ever since she was a little girl. She was too tall for Westeros standards, too broad, too unfeminine. She was a strong and brave knight, but she didn't have the beauty that was expected in every woman. The only time she'd been called "beautiful" would be in cruel jests, reminding her of everything she isn't and will never be.

But you thought otherwise. You, so short compared to her frame, you fit effortlessly in dresses and corsets—a clear contrast to Brienne yet you showed the knight things she has never experienced before.

On one particular evening, you wore a lovely dress for an event you were going to, one with such a neckline that Brienne could not stop herself from glancing down despite her desperate efforts in keeping her gaze on your face. You've counted the several times those piercing blue eyes of hers dropped down for a quick glance when speaking to you—and yes, it was certainly more than five.