He had ended up staying the night in her tent because – well, why not? They were no longer a secret and he didn't feel the need to hide the obvious. The next morning found him going about his usual business, putting on the many layers that were necessary now that winter was here, but she stayed laying down, the pelts she slept under pulled up to her chin. How could she bear to go outside now?

Finally, when he was fully dressed, he turned around to face her. "Oh for fuck's sake," he said as she tried to hide even further under the pelts. "You have to leave this tent at some point." She shook her head no. "Who the bloody hell cares?" he asked her.

"Jon," she began. "And Sansa …"

He snorted. "That girl probably learned a thing or two last night. She'll be thanking you soon enough. As for Jon," he grinned wickedly, "I don't think he saw anything he's unfamiliar with."

It was getting light out now, she could see. Reluctantly, she got up and began dressing, with Tormund eyeing her form appreciatively until her whole body was buried under clothes and armor. She grabbed her sword last, trying to brace herself for the day ahead of them, but then just stood at the mouth of the tent, steeling herself to set foot outside.

"Go on," he said, giving her a push that sent her stumbling out into the snow. She righted herself, her sword jangling against her armor, and the commotion was loud enough to startle the horses nearby. Jon and Sansa were standing just behind the horses, preparing them for the day's journey, and they looked up right as Tormund emerged from the tent behind her. And then – he waved at the two of them. They both quickly looked away.

Soon, all four of them had packed up their tents and gear and loaded everything with the rest of their supplies, and their troops were marshalled behind them. Jon gave the signal – just a nod – and they all put their horses to a trot as they headed even further north.

Brienne spent the next few hours riding in silence, looking nowhere but straight ahead. She could feel Sansa's presence on her right, and Tormund on her left, but she ignored them both. Every so often she would let her eyes slide over to where Sansa was riding next to her, but then the memory of the girl's head inside her tent, her face frozen in shock, would wash over her and she would look away again.

But sometime in the early afternoon, their horses managed to separate out of the straight line they had been moving in. Brienne didn't notice at first, until the moment she glanced to her left and realized that Tormund wasn't there anymore. She turned her head around and saw that he was about fifteen feet behind her, with Jon riding beside him. Out of the corner of her eye she saw that Sansa was still right next to her. She began trying to slow her horse down, to get back with the others so she wouldn't have to be alone with her charge, but before she could get away Sansa broke the silence.

"Brienne …" she began.

"Yes?" Brienne said, refusing to meet her eyes.

There were a few seconds of silence. "I don't think you're making a wise choice."

Brienne's mouth tensed. The conversation had quickly gone from uncomfortable to irritating. "Oh?" she said. She hoped the sound of her voice conveyed her annoyance.

But Sansa pressed on. "We need you, Brienne. We need your strength and your bravery now. That's what you're here for. Not …"

Brienne was angry now, and she turned to look right at the girl. "Not what, Sansa? Tell me, what do you think I've done that's taken away from my service to you and your family?"

"We need you to be strong," Sansa said forcefully. "Not flat on your back with that … Wildling."

Brienne pulled her horse's reins up short, coming to a complete stop. "Why can't I have both, Sansa?" Her anger was flaring up and she was almost shouting now. "Why can't I be strong, and continue to fight for the Starks, while also choosing that Wilding? Whose name, by the way, is Tormund."

"I – " Sansa began, but Brienne cut her off.

"Did you even notice anything, before last night? Did you see any change in my abilities, or my willingness to carry out my oath to your mother? No! I've kept on just the same as always, with no one the wiser until you and your brother stuck your noses where they don't belong."

"I'm sorry he forced himself on you," Sansa said, "but - "

Brienne snorted. "Forced? I chose this, Sansa. I continue to choose it. Did that look like force to you?"

"I don't know," Sansa said quietly, and when Brienne looked at her, she saw a single tear run down the girl's cheek.

"Oh, Sansa," Brienne said, her voice now much softer. She had forgotten that brutality had been Sansa's only experience in this regard. Brienne was lucky: in the entire realm, she could imagine, not many other women were afforded the pleasure and the decency she had received from Tormund.

"It's not always like that," she said. "We were taught only the cruel things men could do to us. Not about the … satisfaction we could also receive, if a man is kind." Sansa was sniffling a little now, and Brienne reached her arm out and gently placed her hand on top of Sansa's. They sat like this for a few moments, in silence, their horses at a stop as the snow fell around them.

Then Sansa spoke up again, more hesitantly this time, as she spurred her horse back into a trot. "What … what was he doing to you, anyway?" Somehow, even through the snowflakes that were coming down wetly between them, Brienne could see the blush creeping up Sansa's cheeks.

She smiled as her horse began to walk again alongside Sansa. "Let me tell you a few things our mothers neglected to talk to us about …"

Fifteen paces back or so, Jon and Tormund were also riding side by side. There was an uneasy silence between them as well, although in their case it was Jon who felt more than a little uncomfortable. Tormund, for his part, seemed unbothered.

Finally Jon's voice broke through the quiet. "You and Brienne …" he began.

"Yes," Tormund said, as if that were the beginning and end of the whole story.

"How long?" Jon asked.

"Since she came to Winterfell."

Jon was failing badly at masking his surprise. "This whole time? While we were strategizing and making plans and … and you two were sneaking around the castle together?"

"Not around," Tormund said. "Mostly in her room."

This was becoming a more personal conversation than Jon had ever expected to have with Tormund, and yet his curiosity was getting the best of him. "I never expected – I mean, a woman like her …"

" … is still a woman," Tormund said firmly. "With needs and desires. And," here he grinned wickedly, "a soft body and a beautiful, wet -"

"Alright, I get it," Jon interrupted him. They rode on together, wordlessly, for a few moments more, until Jon spoke again.

"You didn't, ah, you didn't … compel her, did you?"

Tormund brought his horse up short, suddenly, and when Jon turned to look at him there was anger in his eyes. "You think just because I come from north of the Wall - "

"No, that's not what I meant …" Jon tried to say.

"- that I'm one to take a woman against her will? I don't know what kinds of things you're accustomed to here in the Seven Kingdoms, but that's not a practice I've taken up."

"Alright, I'm sorry," Jon said meekly.

"Besides," Tormund said, "did that look compelled to you?"

Jon looked away, mumbling, "I don't know what you mean."

Tormund snorted. "Like hell you don't." Jon was silent. "You think that was your own invention – pleasuring a woman like that?"

Even through the falling snow and the thick scruff covering Jon's face, Tormund could still make out a deep red crawling up the man's face and neck. He chuckled. "That girl was loud and … forthright. We all knew. We were all proud of you." He was silent, then, for a moment, and when he spoke again his voice was gentler. "She liked what you did. And she liked you, more than all the others."

Jon was struggling to keep his voice steady, lost as he was in his painful memories. "You and Brienne, then …" he began.

"It's the same," said Tormund.