"No!" Brienne says after hitting Podrick's back with her practice sword. He's getting good at attacking, but his behind is something that he seriously need to pay attention to. She knows he's improved a lot, but sadly there's still a long way to go.

Pod fixes his clothes and prepares himself to advance on her. He strikes her a few times and she easily blocks them all, but once again he leaves his back exposed to another hit of her blade.

"No!" she says again, which makes him groan in frustration. When she turns around to face Podrick, she sees him.

Tormund, the red-headed Wildling who has been eyeing Brienne ever since she set foot in Castle Black like she's some kind of dessert he wishes to devour, is walking over them and looks at her with a beam on his face and interest in his eyes. He and his men are preparing to leave Winterfell to Eastwatch-by-the-Sea and, it seems, he stopped what he was doing to watch them, or rather, watch her. She feels her face flush immediately. His intense gaze is something that always makes her feel uneasy, embarrassed, but, oddly enough, not in a bad way.

All of a sudden, Brienne feels her shoulder being hit. Podrick has taken the opportunity to strike her with his sword. Angry - whether for being caught distracted or for having her thoughts interrupted, she can't tell - she quickly knocks him down with a blow in his chest and a push.

Tormund looks down at her poor squire fallen in the snow and tells him, "You're a lucky man." Then he looks at her again with that smirk of his.

Brienne rolls her eyes and looks the other way as the Free Folk man slowly approaches her. What in seven hells does he want now? Can't he see they're sparring?

As if he could read her mind, he gets closer and states in a voice that only she can hear, "You look deadly cute with a sword, lass."

"Cute?" she hisses, disturbed by the flattering word. "Who are you calling cute, Wildling? I'm a fierce warrior and nothing stands in my way."

"Calm down, my lady," he raises his hands in defense. "I never said you ain't a fierce warrior, and I've just seen how much. But that doesn't mean you can't look cute, too."

Tormund is always going on and on about her 'beauty' and, as much as Brienne knows he's being honest, she still finds it difficult to believe his words, what with being so used to be mocked by her looks. But the gods know she's trying. And the gods know how close to being convinced she's getting.

And, if she has to be honest to herself, he's quite good-looking, in his own Wildling way.

Unable to hold his gaze, blushing furiously, she looks at her feet and mutters, "Thank you."

Tormund then places one had on her shoulder, causing her to look back at him. His smile is gentle, inviting this time.

"You should come with us to Eastwatch," he speaks. "We need more fierce, strong warriors like you. It'd be lovely to have such a beautiful, powerful knight as yourself fight by my side."

She finds herself surprised to be willing to accept his invitation. It would be interesting to see him fight, and even more interesting to actually fight alongside him. Tormund seems to be a strong, ferocious warrior in his own right. But then she thinks of Lady Sansa and, after looking around, she spots her talking to Littlefinger. That evil of a man is up to no good, and she cringes at the thought of what he could be telling her right now.

Disappointed, Brienne shakes her head and laments, "You know I can't. I must stay and protect Lady Sansa. It's my duty, after all."

"Aye," Tormund replies, equally disappointed. "And my duty's at Eastwatch. But if your lady ever releases you, and if you feel like it, you'll be more than welcome to join us at the Wall."

"Thank you, Tormund."

He removes his hand from her shoulder. "I hope we will get to fight together when the Long Night comes, lass."

"Me too," she replies matter-of-factly.

As Brienne leaves to meet Sansa, she realizes that she wishes Tormund would stay a little longer, at least longer enough for her to get to know him better. Despite being a Wildling - maybe because he's a Wildling? - no man, except for her father, has ever treated her the way he has. He doesn't seem so bad either, so why not give him a chance?

She can only hope they both will meet again in the near future, so that they can fight the White Walkers together. Perhaps a friendship, or something more, between could flourish between them? Only the Seven know. But that wouldn't be so bad.