Can a man still be brave when he is afraid?
That is the only time a man can be brave.
When the snows fall and the white winds blow, the lone wolf dies, but the pack survives.
Know the men who follow you and let them know you. Don't ask your men to die for a stranger.
Black and white and grey, all the shades of truth.
In this world only winter is certain. We may lose our heads, it's true ... but what if we prevail?
Her father's words rang through her head as Audelia ran through Winterfell's halls, trying to get to the bridge. She held Ned, bundled in four different layers of fur to the point he could not move, in her arms tightly, unable to let him go.
Jaime followed close behind, his sword at his side, his golden hand on his stump, his armour on his chest, and the cape Audelia had made for him on his back. It was all he had to protect himself. But with his limp from the arrows he suffered during the Battle of the Bastards, and one working hand, he was but a cripple who stood almost no chance.
A maimed lion stuck in the North, covered in snow, not sunlight like he was used to. If he only could fight in Dorne, he would stand better chances.
"Lia!", Jaime called after her. She had been quick, making it down the stairs in the middle of the night, with no light to guide her because she knew her home so well, he had not been so lucky.
Audelia stopped at the bottom of the stairs and waited for him. "Jaime, I must give Sansa Ned so she can take him to the crypts with her", Audelia said hurriedly, as they continued down the hallways towards the doors that led to the bridge.
"You mean you are going with Sansa and Ned to the crypts, Lia", Jaime said, stopped her. His good hand held her elbow tightly but it did not hurt.
"Jaime-", she tried to argue but he stopped her.
"I will not allow it", Jaime said, his words seething. He was not angry, he was scared. "You are going to those crypts with Ned and you will stay there the entirety of the Battle, do you understand?".
Audelia clenched her jaw together. She had known he would argue with her, and disagree with her decision to be outside of the crypts and give orders directly from the bridge.
She was not a fool to believe she could fight alongside the seasoned Knights or Soldiers. But she did have some training with the sword, better than some soldier's. She knew how to swing it, she knew how to hold it. She knew how to fight from her brief lessons with Ser Rodrik and Robb and Jon and her Uncle the Blackfish as a child. She was not completely helpless.
Besides, she needed to stay to give orders to her soldiers instead of staying inside the castle like a scared pup, and letting the men die for her.
Her father had taught her better than that.
"And I will not allow myself to be inside castle walls while men die for me", Audelia seethed back. Her voice was quiet but harsh. "I can take care of myself, Jaime. It is not as if I am marching into battle with no knowledge of how to fight. I am staying on the wall, with a sword".
Jaime clenched his jaw in return. His eyes were hard as he looked at her, in a way that she had not seen in a long time.
"Then I am coming with you", Jaime said decidedly. "I am not leaving you alone".
Audelia is now able to perform her duties as Queen, and a bonus was that her husband would stay close to her during the entire Battle, increasing his chances of survival.
Well played, Audelia.
Once they got outside, Ned beginning to fuss a little most likely having picked up on his parent's nervousness, Audelia was able to spot Sansa quickly. The redhead stood out from the crowd, even in the darkness.
"Sansa", Audelia said, quickly walking over with her fur trailing after her close behind. "Get to the crypts now. Take Ned with you. Keep him close and don't let go of him".
Sansa opened her arms without a protest and accepted Ned quickly, wrapping her own cloak around him to protect him.
Jaime quickly leaned in to give his son a kiss on the forehead.
"Audelia, are you not coming with us?", Sansa asked, unsure. She had not been expecting that.
Jaime gave Audelia a side-eye but thankfully, remained quiet. She knew of his unhappiness of her decision but he did not voice it in front of others.
"I am not", Audelia replied. "I am needed here".
"But what if something happens to the both of you? What will become of Ned?", Sansa asked. The baby looked over to face both of his parents.
Audelia already felt immense guilt for leaving her baby boy in the hands of his aunt, instead of his mothers. She knew how it must look to others, but they had no idea the guilt and heart-ripping feelings she felt. Of course she knew the possibility of dying. It seemed more real today than any other day.
But she also knew, the best way to keep her son safe is not to stay with him in the crypts, but to be outside, giving orders as a Queen should.
Jaime always did have a problem with dividing his lovely wife and the Queen from one single person. But he was getting better at it.
"If neither of us make it from the battle", Jaime said, and with his one good hand, he grabbed Audelia's. "Then you shall tell him the story of his parents, and how much they loved him, so much so they were ready to lay down their lives to protect him. And perhaps one day, he will understand the sacrifice we made for him, and not begrudge us for it".
He said it, as he looked right at Ned, with a small sad smile. Audelia rubbed his arm as he said it, also looking at Ned.
They made a perfect family. A strong, brave and self-sacrificing Father ready to do whatever it took for his family, and a selfless, gentle when she wants to be yet cold when she has to be Mother, who will do anything for her family.
"Take care of him for us, Sansa", Audelia said, and all but begged.
"I will", Sansa promised, and Audelia believed her.
For a brief moment, it almost felt like Audelia was talking to the Sansa she used to know and trust. But that moment passed as quickly as it came.
As Sansa departed, quickly heading to the crypts with the others, it felt as if she was taking away a big piece of their hearts with her.
"Jaime", Audelia said, their hands were still holding together. "I am afraid".
Jaime turned to face her.
Soldiers walked past them, Knights ran to the gates, normal people ran to the crypts for safety, children cried, and old women wept as their sons and husbands went off to fight.
But all Jaime focused on was Audelia.
"Have faith, my love", he whispered. "Everything will soon be set right".
"Just come home to me, Jaime", she whispered in return.
It was not herself she was scared for.
"I promised I wouldn't let anything happen to our little family, didn't I?", he asked, smiling. "I know my honor is not yet restored, but I keep my promises".
She laughed, even though a few tears ran down her cheek.
They walked to the bridge and stood, overlooking the armies in front of the castle walls. Thousands of the Dothraki on their horses, hundreds of Knights and their squires and thousands of soldiers from all across the world right here, right now, fighting for one common cause.
One army. A real army. Fighting for one cause.
Robert Baratheon knew what he was talking about. As unbelievable as it may have been at the time.
A fire appeared on every single Arakh (weapon carried by the Dothraki) and the entire battle ground seemed to light up suddenly. A red clothed lady rode toward the gates.
The red Lady, the one Audelia had exiled for killing the Princess Shireen. A bold move to return to Winterfell. But it was likely because she had nowhere else to go.
"Open the gates!", Audelia ordered. The soldiers manning the wall did as told without question.
Just then, Ser Davos and Lord Brynden Tully appeared next to them. Donning armour and swords.
"How are we looking?", Lord Tully asked, looking around.
"Like shit", Jaime replied, not even trying to hide the truth from him.
"Audelia, what are you doing out here?", Brynden asked. "Why are you not in the crypts?".
He then turned to Jaime.
"Why are you allowing your wife to risk her life when she's got a babe?", Brynden asked. Jaime put up his hands.
"If she had only asked me, I would have said no", Jaime defended himself.
Before either one of them could continue the argument, Audelia walked down the stairs to meet the Red Lady, with Ser Davos hot on her heels.
"There is no need to execute me, your Grace", the Red Lady said, bowing before Audelia.
Audelia smiled, but it was forced.
"I'll be dead before the dawn", the red Lady concluded.
"Thank you for the fire", Audelia said nonchalantly.
The Red Lady nodded and walked past her towards the bridge. Audelia turned to face Ser Davos, giving him a small nod, before returning to the bridge herself, now to stand beside her sister Arya.
The Dothraki shouts grew louder and stronger, now that they had fire on their Arakhs, making it easier to kill the dead. They began to ride, to meet the dead halfway, hold as many off as possible before they made it to the castle.
An ingenious plan, if it only worked.
Everyone seemed to hold their breaths as they watched the Dothraki ride forth.
And then as suddenly as the fire had appeared on the Arakhs, it ceased. Darkness took over again. And the yells of the dead and the Dothraki combined decreased until there was only silence.
Silence and Darkness.
Whoever was not afraid before, was certainly now.
Silence and Darkness was what frightened children and made adults uneasy. It was from where the monsters arose. From the darkest of corners, in the most silent of nights.
Everyone held their breaths. Waiting for the dead to either come or disappear.
Then the horses began to ride back, but without their riders, until a few men made it back, battered and wounded but alive.
It was not the army they send there. It was a fourth at best that returned.
Everything Audelia has ever learned, everything Audelia has ever done, has brought her here, to this moment. With what remains of her family right next to her, surrounded by those she loved.
How many of them would live to see another sunrise?
The sound of the dead increased, and it was clear they were coming toward them.
And now the Long Nights begins.
The sound of death was loud, almost deafening. The screams, the grunts, the yells, the sound of people dying.
And then came the fire.
Who burned? The living or the dead? It did not matter.
Everyone down below was dead anyway, without the fire.
"Stand your ground!", Audelia yelled.
She turned around to face the guards that had been left inside the walls. "Hold the gates!", she ordered, and they did as told without question.
Because they trusted her.
How many of them will die because they trusted her?
Then the winter storm came, and send chills everyone's backs. The fighting was muted, and everyone who was on the wall was unable to look away.
"I will go down there", the Blackfish said decidedly, unsheathing his sword and turning towards the stairs.
Audelia turned to him immediately, reaching out to grasp his arm.
There were a million things she could say.
Don't go, please.
Absolutely not, as your Queen I refuse to let you.
Uncle, absolutely not. In your age...
But Audelia knew her Uncle better than that.
"Be safe", she said.
"Always am", her Uncle promised.
And then he was gone, joining the fight down below.
The storm was only getting worse. No one could see anything further than their noses. They needed more fire, but any fire that they lit was extinguished by the storm.
"Fall back!", Audelia yelled. "Fall back into the castle!".
"What are you doing?", Ser Davos asked.
"We are losing the fight with them and the storm. We will wait the storm out inside the walls, if we have to", she replied.
The guards passed on the message, yelling at everyone who could hear that they needed to fall back.
The dead bodies, of the living and the dead, piled high. At least half if not more of all their army was gone.
They were losing.
Audelia walked down the stairs towards the guards positioned at the entrances to the castle.
"LIght more fires, we need to be able to see everything here", Audelia ordered to one. She turned to the others. "Those who are wounded and unable to fight any longer, send them to the crypts, take their weapons and give them to those who need them, their armour too. Do not say anything to those in the crypts. We need not alarm them yet".
The guard nodded and left to complete her order.
Where was Jon and Daenerys on their dragons?
Looking for the Night King, most likely.
Everyone continued running inside the gates, but it was not fast enough. And Audelia was not about to close the gates on those who were still living.
"Protect the gate!", she yelled at her guards.
Everyone around them was yelling, either out of pain, or at others to retreat.
Greyworm, Daenerys's advisor came running up the stairs towards her. Jaime took a step to stand in front of her but she stopped him.
"They can't see us. We need to light the trench", Greyworm was able to get out.
Jaime looked at her confused. But she understood.
Daenerys and Jon couldn't see them because of the storm.
"Light the trench immediately!", she yelled. "We need to alert the dragons. Light the trench!".
She picked up two sticks and lit them on fire, climbing back up the stairs onto the wall. She began to light all the sticks that hung on the outside wall, to make more fire.
Greyworm ran back outside the walls with a few of his men to light the trenches that had been extinguished by the winter storm. But it was not enough.
"Archers!", Audelia called. Her voice was barely heard but those who did, quickly lit their arrows and fired onto the trenches.
Their arrows were extinguished before they even hit their target.
"Light the trenches!", Jaime yelled.
A few began to run out with fire on their sticks, but the dead overpowered them before they even reached their target.
Nothing seemed to work. But then Audelia turned to see the Red Lady, standing in the corner by herself, looking straight at her.
She was able to light the Akhar's, she may as well do them a favour and light the trenches.
A moment later, Greyworm (after being signaled by Audelia) was leading the Lady outside, surrounded by other Unsullied towards the trenches.
A few of them were picked off by the dead, and by the time she reached the trenches, there were only three of them around her, but soon enough the trenches lit on fire, and finally, everyone could see.
It was an awful sight. Looking at the dead, decomposing bodies made of bone and stretched skin that made it look somewhat, like those were once living, breathing people.
But the fire kept them away, and it showed Daenerys and Jon where they were.
However, a new problem arose.
They were sitting ducks now.
The dead was standing all around the fire, no longer attacking. They were waiting. Unmoving, unbreathing, unyielding.
Then suddenly, a few of them walked towards the fire, burning themselves. Then they were followed by a few more until all of them were doing it.
They broke the trenches, and their bodies made a barrier between the rest of the dead and the fire, so the others could walk over the dead bodies and get to the other side.
"Close the gates!", Audelia yelled quickly, looking down at the guards who stood by the gates, ushering others inside. "Close the gates, now!".
They did as told, finally closing the heavy doors, and shutting them tightly. But how much good was that going to do now?
"Man the walls!", Jaime yelled at the archers, and they began to release burning arrows at those dead that began to make it through the trenches.
Not long after, the dead began falling on top of each other, building a wall of dead bodies against the stone wall. So they could climb upwards and overtake them.
A stupid idea, if it had not been the dead. They had nothing to lose. No lives to spare, no bones to break, no blood to spill, no fears to tell. They were just bodies, doing what the Night King told them to do.
Like the King's Guard, thought Jaime bitterly. Expected to have no thought, no opinions, no fears. Just protect with one's life.
Only the dead had no life to give. They had already given it.
"Get more men up here!", Audelia yelled. She turned back around and Arya was already gone.
Audelia fought the urge to panic, and chose instead to trust her little sister. She was not responsible for her now.
"Relieve the archers!", Jaime yelled at the Knights and soldiers who came up the stairs at their Queen's command. "And fill the gaps!".
"Archers on top!", Audelia yelled, pointing at the roofs of Winterfell. The only high place they could get to.
A dead jumped from below the wall and threw itself onto Jaime. He was quick to react and stab it in the head.
But it was a clear sign that they had to do something about the growing dead. And quickly.
Find the Night King, Jon, find him and end him.
That's when Audelia remembered.
Bran wasn't in the crypts. He had insisted on being in the Godswood.
The godswood. Surrounded by shorter walls, unmanned and unguarded by anyone.
Before Audelia could think of a plan on how to get to him, she heard a familiar yell.
Jaime was covered by two dead men, trying to stab him. He was trying to fight them off but he was losing, and soon he would fall backwards, and down the wall.
Audelia picked up the sword she had brought with her and swung it at the dead men quickly, taking them off her husband and sending them back down to the ground, kicking a few of the climbing dead ones down on the way.
"Thanks", Jaime breathed out, once he was able to stand by himself again.
"We have to get to the Godswood", Audelia said quickly. "Bran is-".
There was yelling and they both turned around to see a large group of the dead running toward them. Arya appeared, and swung at them, as Audelia and Jaime both sliced a few of them as well, quickly clearing the bridge and disposing of the truly dead, dead ones by throwing them down the wall.
Then the gates were broken. A dead giant walked through, kicking those who were on the ground, successfully killing them, no doubt.
"Oh fuck", Jaime could not help but swear. Audelia did not have the energy to chastise him for his bad language. Besides, it was the exact thing she was thinking.
"Man the walls!", Audelia yelled at those soldiers and Knights who had began to fight the giant. They could not afford to fight the giant and man the walls.
She turned back to Jaime and Arya.
"I have to get to the Godswood to Bran", Audelia said again.
"Audelia, I don't think-", Jaime began but Arya grabbed her arm.
"Through the halls, I will cover you", Arya immediately said.
Audelia nodded, and began to run towards the hallways and down the stairs. Jaime followed close behind, but somehow, along the way, they lost each other.
Audelia did not even realize when she did, but suddenly she wa alone. She turned around twice before giving up on finding him and running towards the Godswood.
She still remembered all the shortcuts, and quickly ran through them, unseen by anyone.
Why did it feel like she was retreating? She knew, damn well, she would be nothing but meddlesome if she had stayed. And she is running to help her little brother.
She hoped Jaime was alright. He knew where she was going anyway. He would be fine. Arya would cover for him.
Bran was the Three-Eyed Raven, whatever that even meant. Surely there was a reason why he is in the Godswood instead of the crypts. Perhaps he has a plan on how to destroy the Night King. If he did, she would help. Whatever it took to end this battle quickly, before more died.
Meanwhile, Jaime was trying to fight off a swarm of the dead. The giant was slayed, and it's corpse lay by the door, restricting access. But the dead still managed to get in, and he was fighting but he was losing quickly.
His limbs were cold, and his golden arm was even colder. He had limited skill with the sword, but he did not need skill.
He was not fighting a fellow Knight in armour, or an opponent with a mind and sword. No he was fighting the dead. Easier, and harder at the same time.
There were no neat tricks he could do to outsmart his opponent, because his opponent could not be outsmarted. His opponent could either be killed, or it would kill him.
And he was losing.
He had lost Audelia in the crowd, as she ran off and he did not see her. He tried to follow but he was quickly overtaken by a crowd of the dead that he needed to fight off.
He was trying. He had to fight every instinct not to just grab the sword with his right hand and finally fight, because he couldn't grab it with his right hand.
Jaime was a cripple, and there was no changing that.
Suddenly, the dead on top of him became a still corpse. Someone had killed it.
"Come on, get up lad", the Blackfish beckoned, and Jaime did as told.
"Thank you", Jaime said.
"My first rule of war, Jaime. Never give the enemy his wish", Brynden said, with a laugh.
Hearing his simply name coming from one of his idols growing up, being acknowledged by one of his idols, the Knight he wished to be like... made Jaime almost embarrassed because he didn't deserve it. Not after everything he has done.
Jaime remembered when he was visiting Riverrun by his father's leave to meet Lysa Tully (now Lysa Arryn) and see if they would be well matched. He had ignored the girl then, as she had been hardly of any interest to him. It was back when he was still utterly devoted to Cersei. Instead, he had continued pressing the Blackfish for stories from the War of the Ninepenny Kings.
He was sure, now looking back at it, that the Blackfish was annoyed by his constant questions about the War. And surely, the Blackfish did not want to relive the moments of death and disaster of the War. But as a young boy, he had been self-centered and arrogant and had not realized.
Lord Brynden Tully had a craggy face, deeply lined and windburnt beneath a shock of stiff grey hair, but Jaime could still see the great knight who once enthralled a squire with tales of the War of the Ninepenny Kings .
"Thank you", Jaime repeated.
"You already said that, lad", Brynden replied, clapping him on the shoulder.
"No", Jaime said. "Thank you for accepting me. Even after-".
"Stop", Brynden said, interrupting him. "What happened in the past, stays in the past. It is done. What I care about is now, and the happiness of my grand-niece and my grand-grand-nephew".
Jaime nodded, and they began to walk towards the walls, to get up. Perhaps Jaime could see below where Audelia was, or the shortest way to get to the Godswood.
"And besides", Brynden continued. "You aren't all that bad".
That was perhaps the greatest compliment he has ever received from any Knight he ever admired.
Suddenly, Jaime heard a grunt. He turned to see one of the dead has stabbed the Blackfish from behind.
Without thought, acting on instinct, Jaime jumped from the stair he was on, and sliced the dead in half, and turned back around just in time to catch the Blackfish as he fell.
He was stabbed right in the back, perhaps even the spine.
"No!", Jaime yelled as he noticed the blood slipping through his fingers. He tried applying pressure but he couldn't find the damned wound!
"Go", Brynden said weakly. "Go help-".
"Absolutely not", Jaime argued. "We will get you to the Maester. He is just in the crypts. He will-".
"Go help Audelia", Brynden exclaimed, using every last bit of force he had left.
He was an old man now. Any wound took longer to heal, any mortal wound was more likely to kill him. The Blackfish knew that this had to be it.
"I can't just leave you-", Jaime argued.
"You can and you will, Lad", Brynden said, pushing him away. He coughed up some blood.
When Jaime did not move, the Blackwish waved his arm at him. "Go!", he yelled.
Jaime backed away but before he could even turn around, the Blackfish had stopped moving, staring off into nothing, his eyes an unearthly blue.
He was gone.
Audelia was almost at the Godswood when she heard the sounds of struggle. They had gotten to Bran before she could.
Finally, she rounded the corner, her sword at the ready, and she noticed Theon on the ground struggling with one of the dead, and Bran, sitting in his wheelchair, his eyes rolled back, clearly in one of his trances.
She ran up and swung at the dead on top of Theon, kicking him off the man.
"Thanks", Theon managed to get out as he stood up. He picked up his spear.
"You are a good man, Theon", Audelia said, with a smile on her face.
Thank you for looking after my brother, went unspoken.
"Thanks, Aden", Theon replied, with a smile of his own.
He had not called her Aden in years, not since... not since she left Winterfell.
"I am glad for the honor of fighting next to you", Theon added.
"I wouldn't want anyone else", she replied, truthfully.
He may have betrayed her and her family. He may have lied and killed and made mistakes.
But he was family. Always will be.
More dead ran towards them, and they both swung at them, killing those that ran at them. Not a thought on either of their minds except for 'survive and protect'.
Then they stopped running towards them.
Suddenly it was quiet, and the dead that were there, stopped. They just stood there, watching.
The Night King was here. Audelia could feel his presence.
"Audelia", Bran called out.
She turned to face him only for a moment, but that moment was long enough for the Night King to throw his sword (but it was as long as a spear) in their direction.
He impaled Theon, who had raised his spread to fight, but in the end, what he needed was to hide.
Audelia saw Theon fall, and then she realized it was only her and her little brother now.
Just her, against the Night King.
Theon had been impaled right in the heart. His death was quick, and painless. A mercy.
Audelia's heart clenched for him, but she had no time to mourn him.
Her sword was not Valyrian Steel. It was nothing special at that. She had no armour, no daggers, no shield.
All she had was the fur on her back, and the sword in her hand.
But she needed to stand as a wall in front of her little brother.
Her baby brother.
She had held him when he was born. She had whispered lullabies to him. She had actually given him his nickname 'Bran'.
Brandon is too long, Daddy. Let's call him Bran.
Very well, my sweet. But don't you think Audelia is too long too?
Perhaps. Then I should be called Aden!
Aden sounds like a boy's name, Theon had argued.
What about Lia, Robb had proposed.
But Theon had called her Aden anyway.
Bran and Theon were both of her brothers. But she could not protect one of them. So she had to protect the other.
"Audelia!", Jaime yelled, he had finally made it to the Godswood.
But he would not make it to her in time to help her fight the Night King and his followers.
So she stalled. She swung at one of them, the closest as Jaime ran across the yard towards her. The dead that had stopped fighting before, ran towards Jaime, stalling him so he could not reach her.
The Night King walked right past her towards Bran who did nothing. While Audelia was preoccupied with fighting the other White Walkers, and Jaime was fighting the dead.
The was a yell, and suddenly all the fighting seized as the living and the dead combined, who were in the Godswood watched as their King held a little girl by the throat.
Arya.
The dagger was dropped, and caught and struck into it's target.
There is silence, in the aftermath: the cacophony of battle suddenly distilling for a second, perhaps two, of quiet disbelief. The lack of noise is eerie and unworldly after so many hours of deafening sound. Then it breaks with the groan of a horn and an uproarious cheer, the clang of weapons being dropped, laughter turning to hysteria.
Audelia and her companions are some of the only people not joining in with the raucous celebration, all four of them dumb and frozen in shock. They stand unmoving for a long time, until the flurry of activity grows nearer, corpses being removed, families reuniting in tearful embraces, the survivors from the crypts emerging above ground, blinking and clinging to each other as they take stock of their harrowing experience and the sight that greets them in the open air.
Jaime is the first of them to speak, breathing out a sigh of relief before his face arranges itself into a grin of triumph.
"I think we won", he said, phrasing it like a question.
It's only then that Jaime finally reacts, his golden hand stretching out blindly towards Brienne, the only part of him near enough to reach her. She clings to the cold metal, squeezing the lifeless digits as hard as she can, pressing her own relief and disbelief into him and hoping he can sense it, and in response he tugs her towards him, yanking her into his arms. It's awkward, his armour clattering and their swords clanging against the plates at each other's backs, and Arya can only laugh with tears streaming down his face to join the blood trickling steadily from the gash on his brow.
"I told you it would all be set right", Jaime reminded her.
After a second of calm, where the only sound is everyone's slowly dwindling laughter and their breath billowing into the frosty air, she becomes aware that she is slumping further against Jaime, her weight bearing down on him. The sword drops from his grip and his now-free hand clings desperately to her back.
Jaime tries to keep her upright, one hand pushing at his right shoulder and the other at his left-hand side. A chill of dread overtakes her as something oozes between her fingers, warm and slick. She pulls her hand away from his waist with a startled jerk and panic rises in her chest when it comes away glistening with blood. She presses her hand back against herself urgently and she hisses through clenched teeth, the pain suddenly overwhelming her and dropping her like a stone.
Jaime catches her before she can hit the ground, but his tired, wounded arms are unable to support her completely. All he can do is follow her down, crashing to his knees as Audelia tumbles backwards, Jaime's hands still wrapped around her shoulder and side. He exerts more pressure, trying to stem the bleeding. The blood flows like a river over their hands and he can feel her weakening, her desperate grip on her wrist becoming slack. She grimaces, breathing fast, his gaze locks to hers with a look of resigned finality, and she feels her own breath halt in her lungs.
She is dimly aware that Arya is shouting for help, dashing from side to side whenever someone comes near, waving her sword in the air like a beacon, but never straying far away from her.
She tries to swallow the lump in her throat, uncomfortably aware that her voice is trembling when she tries to speak, hoarse from screaming and shaky with emotion.
"Jaime, stay with me. Focus. You're going to be fine, do you hear me?", she said, but she could hear her voice slurring.
He lifts his hand away from hers and raises it to her face, both of them heedless of the blood now smeared across her cheek, mingling with the grime and the fresh tears she has been unable to quell.
"Shouldn't I be telling you that?", he asks, still somehow capable of sarcasm. A familiar urge to either kiss him or punch him overcomes her, and her heart almost snaps in two from the agony of it.
She laughed, the act of it had hurt her abdomen, where the blood was coming from.
"No", he responds, trying to maintain some tenuous control. "No, there's... there's still time. Please, just... just hold on."
There are too many things she wants to say, but she is unable to speak, wracked with guilt and regret, mute with shock.
"I'm sorry," he says. "I'm sorry that I couldn't get here sooner. I wasted so much time." He forces out a gruff, ironic laugh. "I'm sorry that our life together had been so messed up because of me. Because of the mistakes I made."
He is unable to finish, his eyes closing in defeat and his hand slipping away from her face.
"Well I'm not sorry", she manages to say. She opens her mouth again to say something, but she can't form the words.
A moment went by as she tried to say something, meanwhile Jaime was yelling for a Maester.
"Jaime", she said, urgently. "Jaime I love you. I always have. I forgive you. And you are going to be fine without me, alright? You are going to be fine-".
"No! I won't be fine! You are not allowed to die!", Jaime exclaimed, angrily. "I refuse to let you. It was always meant to be me who went first, never you!".
Audelia managed another weak laugh.
You are a good man, Jaime. I hope one day you believe it.
She didn't quite manage to say it though. Her world had gone all dark long before.
He reaches out to shake her, seeking desperately for a pulse, but his hands are too slippery with blood and he can barely see for the tears in his eyes. He grips her shoulders and shakes her harder, achieving little except her head lolling sideways, utterly unresponsive.
He shouts for help until his lungs are burning and his throat is raw, until a pair of Northerners finally discover them and lift Audelia from the ground and carry her away from him. He tries to follow but cannot force his legs to function, his arms reaching out desperately towards Audelia's slowly retreating body until Bran's hands drop gently to his arm, stilling him, and Jaime finally succumbs to the desperate sob that has been trying to tear itself from his chest, shaking so hard that his bones rattle, still kneeling on the cold ground surrounded by a gruesome carpet of lifeless undead and a slowly-spreading pool of Audelia Stark's blood.