It's called many things. And much of it emotions she has neglected herself to recognize in herself. There is far much more work to be done for Brienne of Tarth.

"I listen," she softly asserts. Though it seems that is not what was required or asked for. And so often we so wish to be heard from more than one person.

"You fancy him?" Why it is a question, she isn't sure. Brienne already believes it. Feeling Frea pull back causes an unexpected, heavy weight drop onto her shoulders. Frea's movements and words make her look up from the fire into her face.

Her tongue feels thick and words too clumsy. She has never been eloquent or soft spoken. Brienne reaches for Frea's hands. "I...do not wish to ever do a thing to deny you happiness or harm you. I--" she clenches her hands in frustration at herself. "That is to say that I do not want to give reasons for you to have to choose or feel you must choose my company or Lord Captain Solo's." Is it really a choice at all? She doesn't seem to think so.