The unmovable object that is Brienne of Tarth has met the unstoppable force that is Frea's cuteness. That's one philosophical paradox sorted.

If only Frea could relax the way Brienne is doing. She'd been planning to, but then Han had to go and be mischief. Tickling. How ruthless. She tries to maintain her decorum, such as it is, by curling her toes and tensing her legs, lower lip firmly between her teeth to try to stifle the urge to laugh. "My authority isn't much over people."

Only a little, and only in fun ways. The tickling is not fun, and he gets a glare when he doesn't let up quickly. It doesn't last because the attempt to talk let a giggle escape, and once one gets out the rest want to go too. The trade-off is that she's going to pull her feet away and tuck them beneath herself where they're safe.

"If I had any kind of real authority over the people here, that tickling would have gotten someone in a lot of trouble."