Brienne sat astride her mount atop the hill that overlooked Winterfell. Even traveling with the utmost urgency, it had taken several weeks for her to arrive. The fortress was bustling with activity. To one who did not know better, it seemed as though nothing had ever happened there. Brienne did know better. Her mind traveled back to the battle. She saw once again the trenches ablaze and being overtaken by the army of the dead. She remembered all those who had been lost, and the price The North had paid. Brienne could almost feel Jaime beside her when she recalled standing together with him and fighting as one.
She had hoped returning to Winterfell would not bring up other unwanted memories, but it did. Brienne felt the familiar emptiness as she recalled Jaime in this place with her. She had vouched for him on her honor, and he had made her proud. She had given him her heart, as well as her body. She had thought her future would be shared with him, but he had left her. Now looking over the site of her greatest triumph and her greatest defeat, Brienne swore to herself that she would not allow Jaime's memory, in the last place she had seen him, to torture her any longer. She wiped the tears from her cheek with the back of her hand, and swallowed the pain. There was work to be done, and she had been entrusted with it. She would not let Queen Sansa down.
Brienne smiled to herself when she thought of Sansa, yet her grin was tinged with concern that pulled at the corners of her mouth. King Bran had been worried about the loyalty some bannermen held for his sister. A divided North was not an aggravation the young queen needed right now. Brienne's memories traveled once more to the last few weeks after the battle that she had spent at Winterfell as Queen Sansa's Sworn Shield. It was still with disbelief that she remembered the day a half dead traveler had stumbled up to the gates, his face covered with a worn filthy cloak. He had demanded to see the queen and had the collapsed as if reaching Winterfell had been his entire life's goal. It was Sandor Clegane, apparently returned from the dead.
Sansa had insisted he be taken to bed and nursed back to health in her own royal chambers. She refused to leave his side while his strength slowly returned to him. When Clegane could speak again, he had told the queen of the battle with his brother, The Mountain, and of falling from the Keep tower through the flames and into an underground canal that ran beneath the city. His brother had been impaled and burned to death in the descent. Sandor had landed in the subterranean passageway filled with water from the sea, and had survived to make his way back to his Queen. When he could stand, he and Queen Sansa were married within a fortnight. They had loved each other for years, and were finally given their happy ending. A pang to jealously ran through Brienne as she questioned why it could not have been Jaime who had survived the destruction to return to her at Winterfell. She forced the idea down as soon as it formed in her mind, and chastised herself for her selfishness.
Her proud smile grew as she thought of how bold and strong Sansa had become. The Queen had shocked her Northern bannermen when she declared that she would remain Stark, officially, as monarch only and that in the eyes of the old gods and the new she would take her husband's name as Lady Clegane. Her scandal deepened further as she added that their children would carry their father's name, and would wear Stark as their duties required. It was clear that Clegane did not care what name his wife or their future offspring would go by, but Sansa remained resolute. She would not take her husband's children nor his legacy from him. Sansa forced the northern hand when she told them that if they did not agree with her wishes, they could remove her from the throne that day, and choose someone they thought more suitable. They did nothing, and she remained Queen. It seemed there was something prophetic in her words when a few months later it was announced that she was expecting her first child. Brienne had by then, already accepted the honor of leading King Bran's Kingsguard, and was forming her legion at the Red Keep In Kings Landing. Had Clegane not been there to assume the role of Queen Sansa's Sworn Shield, Brienne would never have left her side. Now, the Queen in the North had further need of her, and Brienne was anxious to begin her duties. Spurring her horse toward Winterfell, she swore to leave bitter memories in the past and focus on the future.
—————————————————
Brienne rode up to the gates of Winterfell, and straight through. Some who knew and remembered her, acknowledging greetings to her. She had spent so much time here protecting the Stark girls that she felt as though she belonged here, oddly at peace. Brienne felt at home in the North, somehow. Almost as if wherever else in the world she found herself, something was always calling her back here. She was proud that she could once more help Queen Sansa make the North a strong realm.
Brienne nearly jump from her mount as she reigned the horse to a stop in the courtyard, handing the leather leads to a stableboy. She was eager to begin her duties. The cold air invigorated her and smelled of snow as she breathed it in deeply. It was good to have something new to fill her thoughts. She very much wanted to greet Queen Sansa, and begin preparations for her journey.
Apparently, someone had informed the queen of her arrival. As Brienne turned to survey the activity in the castle's inner workings Sansa emerged from the doors that led to Winterfell's Great Hall. The Queen strode carefully and deliberately over to her. Sansa wore a thick fur cloak, open in the front, and Brienne noticed that the reports of the Queen's pregnancy were indeed true, and Sansa was displaying it proudly. The Queen's Sworn Shield and husband, the seemingly resurrected Sandor Clegane, followed protectively behind his Lady ready to catch her at the first sign of slipping on the ice that covered the courtyard.
"Ser Brienne!" Queen Sansa called even before reaching her former Shield, her eyes gleaming with delight at seeing her.
Brienne quickly covered the distance between them with her long stride, and kneeled dutifully in front of The Queen in the North. "Your Grace." She acknowledged, returning the Queen's excited smile.
"Oh please, do stand." Sansa requested, gesturing for Brienne to rise. "I trust your journey was uneventful." She smiled.
"Yes. Your Grace." Brienne nodded happily. "I cannot complain."
"Then let us go inside, and warm you up." Sansa offered. "We have much to discuss. She seemed hurried to get Brienne out of the courtyard. Brienne assumed that the chilled weather was making the queen uncomfortable in her condition.
"Absolutely. By all means." Brienne concurred.
"Very well." Sansa grinned. This time taking Clegane's outstretched arm as she turned. They walked back to the Great Hall with Brienne falling in step behind them.
The Hall was warm and inviting. The recollection of the festivities there following the battle flashed in Brienne's mind as she entered. It was yet another memory that she stuffed down into her gut before it had a chance to fully firm. She could not allow herself to think of all it meant. Instead she decided to redirect her energies to focus on the work to be done.
"King Bran said you are in need of my assistance here in the North." Brienne questioned as Sansa removed her cloak and returned to her throne by the fire. Brienne stood at attention before her while Sandor Clegane took his place by the Queen's side.
Sansa took a deep breath before beginning to explain. She wore a pensive look as she began. "That is true. I fear the North is not as unified as we believed. There are those who do not support Stark rule." Sandor coughed disdainfully from behind her. Sansa cast a lovingly calming glance over her shoulder at him, and clarified her words. "They do not support my rule."
"But they all chose you, and crowned you Queen in the North, Your Grace. I do not understand." Brienne looked alarmed.
"Not all of them." Sansa lamented. "Especially now that I have openly married, and shall soon bring forth an heir who will wear my husband's name." She unconsciously rested her hand over her growing waistline, her gesture including the worry her words did not.
Sandor bristled beside her. Taking a step closer, he seemed to be trying to form an actual shield around her. He turned to her. "Any that try to come near you, Little Bird, will have me to deal with!" He vowed, grasping her chair. His other hand tightening on the hilt of his sword. He was ready to fight to the death to protect his wife and unborn child.
Sansa reached up, and placed a gentle hand a top his, gazing at him affectionately. "I know, My Love." Sansa smiled warmly. "Perhaps, with Brienne's help, it will not come to that."
"I will do anything you ask of me." Brienne said. "I swore an oath to Lady Catelyn long ago to protect you." She reminded Sansa. "I have not forgotten that, nor foresaken it."
Sansa nodded gratefully. "Your word has always been your bond." She acknowledged. "I know that you would walk through the Hells for the Starks...and have. What I am proposing may involve more than just some dissatisfied old men. I want you to know exactly to what you are agreeing."
"I was not aware, the danger to your rule was that grave." Brienne said, worried.
"It is not simply a few disgruntled houses in the North, that pose a threat." Sansa glowered. "We have received word that there may be factions in Essos who would seek to exploit our weakness, and possibly gain a stronghold to Westeros through the North." Her face clouded with fear.
"An invasion?" Brienne finished Sansa's thought for her. The dread and worry on her face mirroring the Queen's.
"I pray it will not come to that." Sansa breathed. "You can see how imperative it is that the North present a united front right now."
"Absolutely." Brienne agreed. "You can count on me, Your Grace." She vowed. "I shall not return until I ensure the unity of the North, and your safety."
Sansa's face brightened with relief. " That is why I asked Bran to send you. I would trust no other." Brienne lowered her head reverently at the praise.
Bringing her eyes up once again to meet Sansa's, Brienne remembered more of what she had learned from King Bran. "The King said that Jon Snow was also working toward unification. Will he be accompanying me on this mission?" She asked.
Sansa breathed deeply once more, speaking slowly, almost as if she were choosing her words carefully. Brienne could have sworn she saw a disapproving glance pass across Clegane's face. Sansa continued without acknowledging her husband's uneasiness. "Jon has been working tirelessly to gain allies for our cause beyond The Wall. A United North,...the Whole North, is in the best interests of the Free Folk as well."
Brienne agreed. "A show of strength." She confirmed.
"Exactly." Sansa said, relieved that Brienne's expertise was already serving her well. "Jon is here now, but will be returning beyond The Wall in a few days to further negotiations there. He has chosen a delegate to stand in his place as I have."
Brienne nodded at the practicality of the decision. "Is it anyone with whom I might be acquainted?" Brienne asked.
Before Sansa could answer there was a loud crash at the rear of the Great Hall as the exterior doors swung open and banged against the wall.
"Where is she?" A booming voice yelled.
Sansa squirmed. She had not wanted Brienne to discover the identity of her traveling companion this way. She tried to look comforting and gave Brienne her best, 'It Will Be Fine,' smile.
Brienne did not need to turn around to recognize the boisterous tone of the voice's owner. It was unmistakable. Her eyes went wide, and she looked as though she had been punched in the gut. Brienne wished the ground would open and swallow her whole. The dread in her tone was obvious as she beseeched her monarch. "Oh, Your Grace." She cringed. "Oh, Please, No."
Sandor Clegane snickered as Sansa smiled sheepishly, and whispered. "He really is an honorable man." She tried to appease Brienne. "Jon thinks the world of him, and so do the Free Folk. The situation concerns him too."
Brienne's expression was one of disbelief, and she looked sick as she turned and found herself directly in the gaze of Tormund Giantsbane.
Surely Queen Sansa was not serious. However, she had known few moments when Sansa Stark was anything but serious. Months on the road, traveling with...him? Brienne could almost feel his irritating flirtatious leers burning holes in her. Sure, he was always kind to her, and she knew he presented no threat. In fact, he would probably be more protective of her than anyone else. It was his unguarded manner that she dreaded, and the fact that she knew he had feelings for her. At least he had at one time. The last time she had traveled alone with a man, who was not Pod of course, it had been Jaime. At the very least, she had no interested in going through anything like that again.
Brienne stood unmoving, and finally Tormund was able to take in the full magesty of her. For a moment he simply stared at her like she was a goddess and his only wish was to worship at her feet. Jon had told him that Brienne would be here. That she was Queen Sansa's choice to undertake the mission on which they were being sent. Now he stood face to face with the woman of his dreams.
Tormund had tried to forget Brienne of Tarth. What else could he do? She had made her choice, and it had not been him. He had heard what the Kingslayer had done to her, and hated him for it. If he had been given the chance, he would have challenged the Lannister pretty boy for Brienne's honor. Tormund was certain he would have won. He would have beaten the lion to a bloody pulp, forced him to apologize to his goddess, and then would have slit his unworthy throat and claimed Brienne for his own. Unfortunately he did not get the chance. Lannister had hightailed it into the night like the coward he was, and Jon's Dragon Queen had reaped the revenge Tormund himself had wanted. Upon hearing of the betrayal she suffered, he had searched for Brienne at Winterfell but could not find her. Perhaps it had been better that way. What could he have said then to ease her pain...or his?
Now she was here. They were together again. She was as beautiful as the first moment he had ever laid eyes on her, when he had first seen her astride her horse at Castle Black. His legs had gone to jelly beneath and his breath had froze in his lungs just like it did now. Tormund stared at Brienne across the vast room. All boasting and brevity left him. Every ounce of adoration that he had ever felt for her came rushing back into his heart, into his soul. He wanted to saunter up to her. To turn on the charm, and tell her he knew she would be back with a fiendishly seductive smile. However, that had not worked for him the last time. Alright, if he had to he would court her this time like they did in the south, with foolish coyness, and mannerly deceptions. He would play the games she knew, instead of wearing his feelings openly in the ways of his people. Besides, Jon had warned him to be on his best behavior. He had to. This time he would not, could not, let her go. He would win her heart, or die trying.
Tormund could only move when Jon shoved him forward. He felt Snow's boney elbow dig into his bicep through the layers of skins he wore. "Close your mouth." Jon ordered. He thought he complied.
The two wild looking northmen made their way across the cold stone floor to their respective queens. Jon to his monarch, and Tormund to the ruler of his heart. Brienne simply stared in disbelief and what could only be described as dread. They bowed respectfully, Tormund somehow never taking his eyes off Brienne.
"I trust all is ready for your departure." Queen Sansa asked them.
"It is, Your Grace." Jon answered.
"And when, do you expect to leave to begin meeting with the houses?" She continued.
"Tomorrow." Tormund replied. "If Lady Bri...If Ser Brienne will be ready." He gave Brienne a thoughtful glance.
"I will." Brienne confirmed. She was shocked by Tormund's cordial demeanor. She had expected a tasteless comment, or at least an overly familiar leer.
"Very well." The Queen agreed. "I'm sure Ser Brienne will want to get some rest this evening, before embarking on the journey." She motioned for a servant girl who was busy sweeping the hearth.
"Please show Ser Brienne to her chambers, and then see that her things are brought there. Have a bath drawn and dinner sent for her." Sansa commanded with a caring smile.
"Yes, Your Grace. Right Away." The girl answered sweetly and stepped back to wait for Brienne.
"Thank you, Your Grace." Brienne smiled. "I am quite tired. A rest would be nice before setting out tomorrow." She bowed her head and then followed the servant girl from the hall, but not before looking back to watch Tormund watching her depart.
————————————————————
Brienne was relieved to reach her chambers. They were spacious, warm, and comfortable. They offered a welcome respite from her frigid journey, and the crowded inn where she had sheltered along the King's Road, at least for one night. She needed quiet and solitude. Her thoughts were realing. Why had the Queen not informed her of her traveling companion? Sansa should have known that it would not have changed her answer, but she could have prepared herself. A part of her felt somehow blindsided.
Brienne removed her heavy cloak and laid it across the bed. Soon she found herself standing before the roaring fire that had been prepared for her. She wondered what the coming weeks would bring. Would she be constantly fending off advances from her would be suitor? Surely that was a distraction she could not abide. There was important work to be done, and she needed her wits about her. She had to believe that Tormund understood the sensitive and urgent nature of their business as well. He had more reason to be concerned about the future of the North than she did. Jon would not send him if he did not feel strongly he was the only person to complete the task.
'Oh, stop being silly.' She told herself. 'Of course, Tormund will treat the matter the utmost skill and tact.'
Why then, was she so nervous? Why was she pacing? Why was she finding it hard to breath? Why could she not stop thinking about him? Brienne's thoughts were halted by a knock at her door. She looked timidly at the thick carved oak panels, dreading who might be on the other side. Surely, he would understand her fatigue, and her need to solitude. With a deep breath she crossed the room and opened the entry just enough for one eye to peer into the hallway. A sigh of welcome surprise left her throat when she saw it was the same pleasant servant girl who had seen her to her chambers a short time before.
"I've brought your dinner, My Lady." The girl announced.
Brienne smiled, feeling a bit foolish, and opened the door for the maid to enter. "Oh yes. Thank you." Brienne said shyly, peering into the passageway to make sure no one else was there.
The young girl laid the tray on a low table near the fire and pulled a chair up to create a cozy dining area. Then she turned obediently to Brienne. "The water for your bath'll be up shortly." She smiled.
"That will be lovely." Brienne nodded, preoccupied.
"Is there anything else you need, My Lady?" The girl bowed her head.
"No. Nothing." Brienne answered, still wrestling with her thoughts.
The servant girl curtsied and left the room quickly. Brienne was glad to be alone once more. Looking around the silent room she was thankful it was not the same quarters she had shared with Jaime. That would have been more than she could bare. She was certain the Queen had seen to her comfort in that matter. She ate slowly, and tried to relax. When her bath had been drawn, she undressed, slipped into the large tub, and allowed herself to luxuriate in the warm silky water. As her body calmed, so did her mind. Whatever the coming weeks would bring as she traveled with Tormund, at least there would be work to do. She would be busy and her mind would not have time to dwell on what she had lost.
Warm, and content, she climbed into bed early. Brienne thought she would be facing another fitful sleepless night. However, soon she fell into a deep peaceful slumber. She enjoyed the first tranquil sleep she had known in ages. That night, she did not dream of Jaime.
Brienne dreamed of Tormund Giantsbane.