Jaime
Jaime woke in a cold sweat and shivered. It was the same dream- nay, memory; he corrected himself as he gathered the worn blanket around him. It was still so hard to believe.
Brienne had lied to him; it wasn't Sansa she was leading him to but her mother, or what was left of her. Lady Stoneheart stared defiantly at him as Brienne pleaded for mercy. She had betrayed him but only for the sake of the boy Pod. In the end Pod died mercilessly at the hands of… Jaime shivered again but smirked sarcastically in the dark.
"Now do you understand how they make you swear vows impossible to keep?" he whispered looking over at the wench curled up close to the girl.
They had found the child clutching her undead mother's hand. How she found her way to Catelyn or where she had been she refused to say. Almost as stubborn as the stupid wench, Jaime thought. But the girl stood beside what was left of Lady Stark with eyes nearly as unfeeling. No, thought Jaime, not unfeeling but full of rage, full of vengeance.
"Kill him," the girl had spat, "Kill them both."
Lady Stoneheart would have followed through with her daughter's wishes if it hadn't been for them, the Others, the White Walkers.
A bitter cold ran down Jaime's spine and he crawled deeper into his bed roll seeking warmth. He would never forget how cold the air had turned just before the attack. Suddenly they were everywhere, tall chalky white creatures with their ice swords in hand. And their eyes, Jaime would never get their dead blue eyes out of his mind. Nor would he soon forget how their vacant stare still managed to penetrate the soul of their prey before they killed them, or worse, made them one of them. The Brotherhood Without Banners never stood a chance.
Jaime tried to focus on the memory, remember some detail that might help the three of them survive but it was all a blur; a mass of bodies and swords meeting and the screams of terror and death. Brienne had somehow managed to reach the tree the Companions had laid Oathkeeper against. She swung with all her might as one of the creatures made for her. Jaime crawled like a baby toward one of the fallen. He saw his chance at grabbing the man's sword. He worked his bonds furiously against the sharp blade, rubbing his wrists back and forth until the rope began to give way. He winced as the sword cut through the flesh of his wrist and as the blood ran into the blade the steel took flame. Jaime fell against his folded thighs almost toppling backward in surprise. What new madness was this? He was going to leave the cursed sword behind until he heard it, the shrieks of fear coming from the Others. They were afraid of it, more so than him. It was the fire, he realized, they feared the fire.
"Jaime," Brienne screamed and he whipped around to see Lady Stoneheart frantically trying to shield her daughter from the White Walkers. They seemed reluctant to attack her at first, perhaps they knew what was dead could never die, but now they had grown bolder. They wanted the girl and they had drawn a circle around her and the mother, fencing them in.
Jaime grabbed the flaming sword and lunged. It was a most ungraceful attack; his fellow Kingsguard would have laughed at the once refined Jaime Lannister, as he pounced not like a roaring lion but like a hesitant new born kitten hoping to get his fist kill. Luckily his left hand managed to hold onto the unfamiliar sword as he hacked his way through the foul creatures. Most ran in fear but others fell to his blade, crumbling to dust as the sword cut through them. He caught a glimpse of Brienne and saw she had a somewhat similar success with Oathkeeper. Lady Stoneheart's men were not so fortunate. Most were dead or dying, and some had risen to join a new more horrid brotherhood.
"Ser Jaime," Lady Stoneheart said in her raspy voice, "Brienne tells me you've changed. Prove it, take my daughter, find my other girl, and keep them safe."
She pushed the girl into his arms
"I charge you with their lives," she said fixing him with a steely cold stare, "Now go, I will distract these fell beasts while you get away."
Jaime lifted the protesting girl and flung her over his right shoulder as she kicked with all her might, his golden hand held firm against her legs.
:"Brienne," he called out.
She nodded and motioned for him to come, "This way, through the trees."
"Mother," the girl cried as the Others surrounded the once proud and beautiful Lady Stark.
"Mother!" Arya screamed into the dead of the night.
I used to dream of Cersei, Jaime thought wistfully, But now I only dream of them. There is nothing left but cold, darkness and death. He stoked the dying fire and mockingly grinned. Perhaps there is something to this Lord of Light and the new religion. If there is a god, he's here in the flames. You're our only saviour now.
Brienne's sleeping body instinctively edged closer to the heat as Jaime added some more kindle. Stubborn stupid wench, he scowled. It was she who insisted they answer Lady Stoneheart's plea and continue their search for Sansa.
"I owe Lady Catelyn that much," Brienne had sighed.
"I owe her nothing," Jaime replied.
"You owe her your life, twice now. Or have you forgotten she was the one who released you from Riverrun's dungeons?"
"Believe me, I have not forgotten."
"Jaime please," Brienne pleaded.
"Sansa's likely dead," he yelled in exasperation, "Along with the majority of Westeros."
"Jaime," she chastised glancing at Arya.
"What? The girl may be a pain but she isn't stupid. She knows as much as I do our chance of finding her sister alive is as likely as dragons swooping in to save us all with their fire breath."
"I heard Daenerys Targaryen hatched three of them," Arya butted in, "I heard they call her Mother of Dragons."
Jaime gave her a sideways glance.
"I take it back, the girl is stupid."
"I am not, Kingslayer! I know what they said in Braavos. She's coming and the Seven help you when she does!"
"Braavos? Is that where you've been?" Brienne asked in astonishment.
"Don't pay any heed to what she says," Jaime said, "The cold has clearly frozen any functioning mind she might have had."
"I warn you Kingslayer!" Arya raged.
"Stop it!" Brienne shouted before softening her voice, "There is nothing to gain from us bickering with one another. We promised Lady Stark, twice now, that we would find her daughters and keep them safe, We must search for Sansa and that is the end of it."
Jaime pouted and gave an audible sigh. Damn oaths and promises! Damn them to the Seven Hells!
"Well we can't traipes around the Seven Kingdoms with this brat beside us and gods knows what out there just waiting to kill us."
Brienne gave a solemn nod. "We need to find somewhere safe for her, but is there such a place these dark days?"
"No, I can come with you; I can help look for Sansa. She's my sister!"
"You're just one more person we'd need to protect, we don't need the hassle," Jaime said.
"I can protect myself Kingslayer," Arya protested.
Jaime gritted his teeth, "My name is Jaime, Ser Jaime to you brat!"
"Enough!" Brienne said, "I'm afraid he's right. We'd only be distracted worrying about you and we can't have that with those things out there. Your mother would want you somewhere safe. The question is where?"
"The Wall," Arya finally said reluctantly, "Take me north to my brother Jon."
Brienne
Brienne's eyes fluttered open, trying to adjust to the glowing light from the fire. Jaime was adding some more wood and muttering to himself. She grimaced, knowing he wasn't happy about traveling to the Wall and her reminders of his promises to Catelyn Stark cut deep, rubbing at old wounds and memories of Aerys and broken vows.
"You want us to go to the Wall?" He had asked in astonishment, "Are you mad, girl, as well as stupid?"
"My brother is the only one I trust to keep me safe," Arya told them, "I won't let you take me anywhere else!"
"The Wall is north, those things come from there," he explained as if the child was simple. Jaime pointed with his golden hand at the drifting snow in the air.
"That way means death."
"They're everywhere now," Brienne said, "North, south, it matters not which way we travel."
Jaime had stepped closer to her, leaning in so his breath spilled over her face, the heat of it burning her frozen skin. She swallowed and tried to steady her breathing as he fixed her with his emerald stare.
"Whose side are you on?" he questioned.
"On the side of right and good," she told him as he rolled his eyes at her before turning away.
"Jaime," she called tentatively reaching out for him but pulling her arm back to her side before touching him.
"The girl is right; the only one we can trust with her life is her kin. He's all she has now."
That had ended it and they began the treacherous road north. They started by traveling at night as the Others seemed to shun the day which allowed the trio to sleep safely; but soon the sky grew dark and the sun hid and day and night blurred into an endless stream of fear for them.
"It's as if the sun itself is afraid," Brienne said looking up at the dark sky. Jaime followed her gaze, staring at the thick black clouds but saying nothing.
"I've heard long ago, there were days so black it was like living in an abyss,"Arya said.
"And where did you hear about that, from your days in Braavos?" Jaime asked. He was always trying to coax the Stark girl into giving them some more information about where she had been but the child was careful and guarded her secrets well.
"Old Nan used to tell us the stories."
"Interesting choice of bedtime tales, Old Nan must have been hoping to scare you brats to death," Jaime said trudging through the thick snow. Brienne scowled at his back but pushed onward.
Brienne drew closer to the fire and watched through hooded lids as Jaime made sure it didn't go out. She gave a soft smile recalling his constant spats with Arya. The two would often fight like cats and dogs and it was up to her to intercept and end things. Jaime would call the child a brat and push ahead of them when an argument was brought to a close and yet he was always the first to step in front of the girl when the Others came.
"I don't need you to do that," Arya had said after a hard and long fought battle between them and the creatures. "I can take care of myself, if you just arm me."
"Can you now?" Jaime snarled, "Well then, next time they come I'll hide behind you and let you try and kill them."
"Stop it!" Brienne shouted in exasperation, "The pair of you, isn't it bad enough we have the Others to battle and survivors trying to steal our food and weapons? Do you two really have to waste energy fighting each other?"
They both shrugged and pouted but for once there was quiet between them as they traveled onward.
They tried to look for horses but the animals had either died of starvation or were wise enough to hide themselves somewhere only they knew how to find.
"How will we ever make it?" Brienne asked Jaime one night as they broke into an abandoned inn.
"We'll make it," he said giving the door a shove and beginning to scour for food and clothing.
"But how?" she asked again.
"We just will," he told her sighing deeply, "Stop asking questions and make yourself useful Wench."
She glared at him but went to work. She knew he resorted to calling her names when he was frustrated and scared. The whole of Westeros was scared these days. The terrified faces of survivors met them at every village they encountered. Many came at them trying to grab what little processions they had left. Jaime had killed a few when they got too aggressive, when she couldn't bring herself to do it.
"They're people Jaime," she told him when he had yelled at her for being compassionate, "They're just trying to survive the same way we are."
"It's either them or us Brienne," he told her plainly. She caught Arya nodding her head in silent agreement and wondered how a child could be so hardened.
"Jaime," she whispered so as not to wake the girl. He turned to look at her.
"Go back to sleep, dawn will be here soon and we'll have to be on our way."
"Dawn? How can you tell in this darkness and cold?" she asked propping herself up on her elbow.
"Years of sleeping on the road," he said, "A soldier can just tell when it's time to wake."
She bit her lip, "Not far now is it?"
"No. Maybe a day or two's walk, if we don't meet too many of them," he said.
They had spotted a quick glimpse of the Wall in a break in the clouds a few days before. It was still far in the distance but it loomed large like a beacon of hope.
"Look!" Arya shouted, "There it is!" She had begun to run forward when Jaime grabbed her by the scruff of her cloak.
"It's still far off yet," he shouted through the wind, "Don't go running off into the unknown."
She struggled free of his grasp. "It's there though," she said squinting her eyes to see through the snow and the blackness that had enveloped them again, "It's there," she whispered almost in prayer.
Brienne had indeed prayed a silent prayer of thanks to the Seven; the Crone for guiding them, the Warrior for giving their swords the power to kill the Others and most of all she thanked the Stranger for not coming for them.
What was it Arya Stark had said? Brienne thought as the girl curled into herself even more as she slept, "There is only one thing we say to death, not today." Brienne remembered the girl chanting that to herself every time they faced the White Walkers and the Wall indeed appeared like a prayer answered.
"We'll leave the girl with her brother and then begin to search for Sansa," Brienne said looking at Jaime gathering his blanket around his shoulders. He laughed.
"It's that easy is it?" he asked. "What if the bastard Snow is dead? Did you think on that possibility? Do you think his black brothers will sit and watch the girl like a bunch of caring Septas?"
"We mustn't think like that," Brienne said, "He has to be alive."
"Why?"
"Because, the Gods wouldn't be so cruel," she told him.
Jaime laughed even harder and it coursed through her and left her colder than the gale that ran past them.
"Tell me Brienne, were the Gods not cruel when they let my sword hand be chopped off? Or when you were thrown in the bear pit for the Goat's amusement, where was the kindness of the Gods then?"
"They sent you to me that day," she said.
Jaime looked at her as if she were mad.
"You said you came because you dreamed of me," she told him just above a whisper recalling the time he jumped in with no sword and fought the bear to free her. She lowered her eyes to avoid his gaze. "Who but the Seven sent you that dream?"
She could feel his eyes upon her and a blush began to spread across her scarred cheeks. She let her hair fall forward so he wouldn't see.
"And will the Gods guide us to Sansa Stark?" he asked.
"I believe they will," she replied glad that he moved on from their past experiences together.
"I would think seeing what you have these past weeks would have cured you of your stupid naiveté," he said getting out of his bed roll and stretching. He took a torch and lit it.
"I'm going to go take a piss, why don't you pray to the Seven for some wisdom while I'm away," he told her.
She frowned, some things would never change, and Jaime's crude remarks were one of them. She knew it was part of his defense mechanism, she had her ways too, to guard her from all the cruel japes played at her expense. And even if Jaime was sometimes the cruelest of them all he was always the one to pull his flaming sword out first against the White Walkers. It was him keeping them alive. She could see him just inside the tree line fumbling with the torch and his breeches and she coloured at the thought of his hand on his cock. She deflected her gaze to the sword that swung on his hip. She wondered at the magic of it, who wove the spell that required a drop of blood for it to take flame. Was this the work of the Seven or some other God I know nothing of? She looked at her companion as he laced up his breeches with his left hand. Jaime's palm was scarred from cutting himself each day and night until finally she told him to stop.
"Here," she said one night before they headed out onto the perilous road, "Cut me instead." She raised her palms upward to him in sacrifice.
"I'm fine," he said and made to grasp the sharp blade with his hand.
"No," Brienne grasped his wrist to halt him, "No more. You'll do permanent damage to your hand if you keep cutting it."
"And I only have the one left, is that it?" I'm touched by your concern Wench but I can handle it."
"You're always calling me stubborn but who is being stubborn now?" she questioned and added in a tone of finality, "You'll cut mine."
"And then mine,"Arya chimed in.
Jaime's eyebrow shot up in surprise, "You're offering to spare the Kingslayer girl?" he asked mockingly.
"If I could lift and wield the sword myself I'd have no use for you but as it's too heavy, well, we need you to help get me to Jon. Once I'm with my brother I could care less what you wish to do. You could cut your heart out with the sword if you like," the girl told him.
"Ha," Jaime spat out a laugh, "Trust a Stark to be honest with you no matter what."
Brienne let out a breath before speaking, "My hand," she said bringing his attention back towards her.
"Very well," Jaime said before slicing the blade across her left hand. The sword cut through the skin of her palm. Brienne winced as the blood flowed and ran down the steel taking flame before they headed into the chasm of the night.
Arya
Arya woke with a shudder. For a brief moment her heart stopped, thinking she had been abandoned until she heard Jaime making some vulgar comment about pissing one handed. Brienne stood not far off, turning her back on him as he adjusted himself.
"Are you sure you don't want to lend me a hand?" he asked teasingly.
Brienne turned further away from him, her face beet red and snorted in disgust.
"I never thought the Maid of Tarth would turn a man in need away. What of her knightly vows she holds so dear?" Jaime asked with a smirk as he finished lacing up his breeches.
"I am no knight," she told him, "And I begin to despair there is no help for you on that front either, Ser" she said saying the last word sharply.
"Oh, none whatsoever," Jaime replied with a laugh.
They were both smiling at that point, Jaime openly displaying his enjoyment at the exchange while Brienne fought a losing battle to hide hers. Arya shook her head as she got up and began to gather her things. She would never understand those two. Their relationship was perhaps the oddest she had ever seen and they often left her baffled, like the night she saved the Kingslayer from death.
They were getting further north and closer to the Wall, the winds were blowing hard and the snow felt like little blades cutting at their skin as it flew in their faces. It was hard to see, hard to walk, even hard to breathe as Arya pushed through the thick banks.
"Keep close," Jaime had yelled to be overheard over the rushing current of air. She nodded and tried to keep the Kingslayer and Brienne in sight but soon the air turned and the only colour visible was the blinding white of the snow. Her heart began to beat faster as she turned first left, then right, trying to find her travel companions. There was nothing but the colourless air in front of her. Arya tried to control her growing sense of panic.
Fear cuts deeper than swords, fear cuts deeper than swords.
She repeated the mantra to herself over and over until her breath returned to normal. Arya stood still in the snow which had now turned to falling ice, threatening to take her down with its force. I can survive this, she thought; I have and can survive anything.
"Jaime!" She heard Brienne's terrified scream cutting the otherwise eerie silence around her.
"Jaimeeeee!"
Arya ran towards the sound, her feet heavy, her own body weight fighting against her as she dug into her boot until she felt it, the touch of steel. Arya felt a sense of comfort course through her as she grasped the Valyrian dagger she had swiped off a sleeping Jaime the night before. She unsheathed it now just as she came upon them, swarmed by a group of Wights. Brienne swung blindly in the storm hacking away at anything that came her way. Arya stood transfixed, awed with the strong, large woman fighting bravely against an unholy enemy. She used to think Visenya Targaryen was her heroine, but she had a dragon, and Brienne only fought with Oathkeeper and an unwavering courage.
"Jaime," Brienne cried again trying to stumble her way towards him. Arya turned to see a Wight calmly making his way toward the Kingslayer. He was behind him, shrouded by black darkness and white snow. Jaime would never see him in time.
"Jaime," Brienne called again but Arya was sure he didn't hear her warning as he took on two Others in front of him. The one behind him raised his icy sword, ready to bring it down at any moment. Arya ran, she ran with all her might and lunged herself at the beast. The dagger was tight in her hand as she brought it down on the the thing's neck. It cried out an ear piercing screech before falling to the ground, Arya spilling into the snow along with it.
Jaime turned around in surprise. "Where did you come from?" he asked as she smiled up at him.
"I just saved your life Kingslayer," she told him shaking the snow from her legs.
"So you did," he replied, "And with my dagger it would seem. You stole that!"
"Be glad that I did or you'd be dead right now."
"Jaime," Brienne reached him gasping for breath, "I thought, I was sure that,"
"Hush," he said reaching up and lightly brushing her scarred cheek with the back of his knuckles, "I'm fine. It's over now," he whispered soothingly.
Arya tilted her head to the side as she watched the exchange. They couldn't possibly, she thought, not those two, could they?
They were a strange couple that confused her still but something was there, some sort of strange yet deep bond, of that Arya was sure.
"Get your stuff together brat," Jaime called out as he tightened his sword belt, "With any luck we'll be able to be rid of you by the next morning."
The last few leagues to the Wall were hard. They had run out of food and proper water and were sucking on snow to keep themselves going. Arya's stomach grumbled in protest but she tried to concentrate on the Wall which was now within sight. Jon, she hugged the thought of her brother close to her heart, she would finally see her brother again. Her heart swelled and soared at the prospect. She could almost feel his arms around her as he'd lift her into the air, their laughter filling the room. Everything would be fine once more; she could put all the past heartaches aside and feel whole again. With Jon at her side , she could finally become Arya Stark once again and reclaim the identity she cast aside for so long.
"Look!" she shouted in happiness at Brienne, "The gate!"
"Hold on," Jaime said grabbing onto her arm. Arya obeyed for once, stopping short as she felt a hundred eyes upon them. She lifted her head up to see archers with their bows trained upon them.
"I'm Jaime Lannister," Jaime called out to them, "We ask for entry and the chance to speak to your Lord Commander and the black brother Jon Snow."
"One and the same, Kingsguard," one of the Crows shouted down to them.
Jaime exchanged a look with Brienne. She shook her head to signify she had no knowledge of Jon's new title either.
"Good then," Jaime responded, "Tell Lord Commander Snow I have something of value to him," he said gripping Arya's shoulder.
The gate creaked open and a woman stood in the archway.
"Of great value to us all Ser Jaime."
Arya thought the woman both beautiful and terrifying. Dressed all in red, her flaming hair whipped around her face as she beckoned them forward. Brienne took a tentative step first with Arya following and Jaime at her heels. She could feel his tension in every step he took. Something was wrong and he knew it. So did Brienne, her shoulders stiffened as she followed the Red Priestess down a damp corridor and up some narrow stairs.
Nothing was wrong, Arya tried to convince herself, They had made it, fought and beaten their way through the Others and had made it to her brother, Nothing was wrong.
The woman stopped in front of a wooden door and smiled down at Arya. The gem at her throat glowed red and Arya's blood ran cold.
"Your brother has been expecting you," the woman told her
"How could he have known we were coming?" Brienne asked.
"I saw it in the flames, Maid of Tarth," she told her before opening the door
Jon looked up from his desk; his eyes were heavy and bruised. Ghost sat obediently at his side. Arya wanted to run, wanted to hold him close and weep tears of relief into the side of his neck, but something prevented her from doing so. Instead she took a step back, bumping into Jaime's chest. He wrapped a protective arm around her, his golden hand heavy against her thumping heart. She felt his good hand reach for the hilt of his sword.
"I'll be taking that off your hands, Ser Jaime," the red woman said motioning towards his sword.
"I don't think so," he stated firmly tightening his grip on it.
"You wielded it well and bravely, but the sword doesn't belong to you," she told him calmly and slowly.
"And I'm to believe it belongs to you?" Jaime asked.
"Only one man can claim possession of the great Lightbringer," she informed him staring at them with glowing eyes.
"That sword belongs to Azor Ahai."
"Azor Ahai?" Jaime said with a chuckle, "Has he too returned from the dead?"
"These are the days of the walking dead," the red woman stated and Arya trembled in fear, "R'hilor himself has delivered the noble warrior out of the ashes, to bring us all out from the great darkness," the Priestess said and swept her long arm in Jon's direction.
"I don't understand," Brienne said, "Are you telling us that Lord Commander Snow is?" she couldn't finish her question; it was all too absurd to believe.
"I saw it in the flames, R'hilor has shown me the light, shown me everything even if at first I did not want to see. Jon Snow is the Prince that was promised and Arya Stark is his great sacrifice."
"His what?" Jaime asked clutching the girl tighter to his body. Arya felt his muscles tighten around her, was that the reason she couldn't breathe or was it something else?
"I saw it all Ser Jaime. The one they call Kingslayer and the Warrior Maid shall deliver Nissa Nissa, the great sacrifice, to Azor Ahai and the war against the Others and the Dark will commence."
"Jon?" Arya cried in confusion.
Jon stood, his shoulders heavy with the burden in front of him, the fire blazing in the hearth behind him casting shadows over his face.
"I'm so sorry," he said.