Chapter 1
The cold, a terrible cold woke him up, even before the first lights of dawn. Jaime sat up slowly and looked around him. Everything was still in the dark but he knew very well he had fallen asleep in a little stable, in a corner covered with dry straw. A black leathery glove still hid his golden hand and, just as everyone Jaime had met on the road, the farmer who lived there had not recognized the Kingslayer and had accepted to offer him a shelter for the night in exchange for some silver coins. He had been freezing during the night and could hardly sleep despite his exhaustion. But, now that he was so close to reaching his destination, he was pretty happy to get up so early.
The night in this stable was the last before arriving at Winterfell... or he really hoped so. Of course, he remembered his first journey from King's Landing to the Northern capital, but both journeys had been as different from each other as were the royal city and the siege of the Stark family. This time, he was all alone, traveling in an atmosphere that was getting darker and colder as days went by and, above all, he couldn't imagine getting back alive from this journey... if indeed he meant to get back at all. Get back to the South, probably, since no Lannister could imagine spending the rest of his life in this harsh country that was the North. But if, by some miracle, he were to survive the battle against the army of the dead, he didn't intend to return to King's Landing, ever again. Cersei had lost him forever.
Cersei… Her name and her memory were enough for him to feel a deep hole within him and a lump in his throat. During his dangerous three-week journey to reach the North, the road had, at some times, seemed sure enough for him to feel safe and let his thoughts wander. And his thoughts always came back to the three same preoccupations. The first two had particularly tortured him at the beginning of his journey and had cost him many sleepless nights: Cersei and the army of the dead.
Deep inside of him, he had always known that his twin sister was a cruel and selfish woman. But the mad love he had thought he had felt for her since their adolescence had blinded him and prevented him from becoming aware of it. All those years of his life supporting her, protecting her and trying to satisfy all her desires, when she only felt contempt and disdain for everyone, starting with their little brother, Tyrion… Why he had wanted to remain by her side, he did not know anymore. Their three children, despite being illegitimate in the eyes of men and of the gods, had united them and had strengthened the sense of duty he felt towards his sister, lover and mother of his children. But they all had been taken away from them, and the last one because of Cersei herself…
The madness that had seized her, the destruction of the Great Sept of Baelor, her cruel wishes for revenge towards Ellaria Sand, Olenna Tyrell… Her hatred for Tyrion, her deceit, her desire to see the rest of mankind annihilated by the undead… Jaime's only regret was now that he had not left her earlier. But he had finally made it, after one last threat from his sister, the most inconceivable one in his eyes, and he finally felt free, as he had never felt free before. Cersei would never have any hold on him anymore. He swore it to himself. He felt it. He knew it.
But how long would it last, this newly acquired freedom? He couldn't imagine being taken prisoner when he arrived at Winterfell. The situation was far too desperate for Jon Snow and Daenerys Targaryen to renounce his experience on the battle field… at least he hoped so, and he clung firmly to this hope. But in his nightmares, he saw the undead creature jumping out of its box and its shriek was enough to let blood freeze in his veins. A whole army of wraiths, led by White Walkers… How could such a thing be even possible? Where did these creatures come from? Jaime had never really shown any interest for the myths and legends of Westeros, the White Walkers, the Children of the Forest… He had never liked to read and those stories were far too absurd for him. No Lannister, not even Tyrion who spent his time his nose buried in books, could ever have imagined that those stories were more than just legends and tales. And now, within a few weeks, he had just come face to face with a dragon and an undead creature. He had always been realistic and cynical, and his only horizon had always been Cersei, her happiness, her safety… But now that he had just opened his eyes and discovered that the world was vast and dangerous, but also beautiful, rich and mysterious, it was in a very real danger of facing its end.
Cersei's treason had been all the more painful and inconceivable. How could she want to let the rest of the living fight this enemy without taking part in this battle for… life itself? He had been so scared to see one of these creatures that the mere idea of facing thousands of them, and White Walkers besides, threatened to let him fall in a state of pure terror. But then he thought about all the weapons they had at their disposal: the Dothraki horde, the Unsullied, the dragons, the dragonglass… and Tyrion's intelligence and perspicacity, he thought sometimes with a sad smile.
If given a chance, he would bring all his support and strategic knowledge to try and defeat the enemy. He still had reasons to want to live, or at least to fight. He wanted to save the humanity, as imperfect as it was. He wanted to save the world, as unjust and cruel as it may be. He wanted to save his little brother, Tyrion.
And he wanted to save Brienne.
The closer he came to his destination, the more his thoughts went from Cersei and the White Walkers to linger on Brienne. And these thoughts, as well as the feelings they woke up in him, were quite confused. He didn't know which one of these feelings was the strongest: gratitude, the last words Brienne had spoken to him having given him the courage to leave his mad sister, the happiness to finally be able to fight by her side, the fear and dread that she might die during the fight against the army of the dead, the bitterness for his coldness and detachment towards her in the Dragonpit in front of Cersei… All these feelings fought within his soul and had accompanied him during a good part of his journey, which had been long enough to have the time to consider their meaning. Far away from King's Landing and from Cersei, without his Lannister armour and on his way to an almost certain death… In this situation, he felt almost naked and having gotten rid of all his burdens had allowed him to see deep within himself and to understand his heart's desires and the nature of his feelings.
Love. It was love he felt. He would never have thought he could feel love for someone other than his sister, but it was now impossible for him to hide further from the truth: he had fallen in love with Brienne of Tarth. How could he have avoided it? She had went through hell with him, had helped him come out of the abyss of despair in which he had plunged after the loss of his hand, even though she still despised him at the time, she had been the only one he had trusted enough to tell her the truth about the real reason he had killed the Mad King, she now trusted him and knew him better than anyone else, she believed in him and her beautiful blue eyes had recognized and woken up everything good and honourable he had within him… She had become so dear to him that his only desire was to protect her during the great war that awaited them. He knew he couldn't bear to lose her, even if it meant for him to face the White Walkers alone or jump into a pit to fight a dragon instead of a bear to save her.
However, he couldn't conceive for one second that his feelings were reciprocated. She respected him now and had probably even become attached to him, after all they had gone through together. But he knew she was intelligent and insightful enough and she had probably understood that he had been indeed his own sister's lover all those years. And worst of all – and he always felt a big lump rise in his throat whenever he thought about it – she would learn soon enough that he had tried to kill Bran Stark, as well as the horrid reasons why he had done it. He had no delusion and knew very well that a woman as honourable as his dearest Brienne could never love a man who was capable of such actions… even if he now regretted them more than anything else.
That is in this state of mind and with all these feelings, anxious and impatient to see her again but also with a very heavy heart, that he stood up to complete his journey to Winterfell.