Brienne II
Brienne and Jamie were unprepared for the cold of the North. They were three days to Winterfell, if the map Brienne had was correct. They had found the worn map flowing in the wind, and Brienne had been able to catch it before it was lost forever in the sky. Brienne felt the worn map against her shoulder, crinkling in the wind. The North truly is fearsome, she thought, pulling her cloak closer to her. She looked backward towards Jaime, and saw that he was faring no better. His curly golden beard was frozen with snow. Squinting her eyes forward, Brienne could only see a white line. She urged her mount forward despite its protests, and shivered violently. This is true winter, Brienne thought as heavy snowflakes fell around them. Ice stung her face, and snowflakes interfered with her sight. Dimly she recalled the Stark words. "Winter is coming," she mouthed into the snow-and ice coated landscape. Although she was gigantic for a woman, the snow was now up to her knees. For once Brienne was grateful for her height.
Lady Sansa is there in Winterfell. Brienne closed her eyes briefly from the cold and opened them again. She must be. It appeared that much had occurred in the North while Brienne was searching for Sansa Stark. Winterfell had been taken over by Ramsay Bolton, the Bastard of the North, and had married Arya Stark. Jamie had told her that the girl was a ruse, although he had no idea who the girl truly was. Suddenly the bride had disappeared from her estranged and cruel husband; Ramsay Bolton had now left Winterfell vacated to search for his wife. On the Wall, the Lord Commander Jon Snow had almost met his death after his own men had attempted to assassinate him. When Brienne had voiced her contempt for the Lord Commander for breaking his vows, Jamie had unexpected said that Jon Snow was not the boy Lady Catelyn Tully had made him out to be. Brienne had broadened this comment as they rode to Winterfell despite the snow and the ice that was now coating their faces. It was true that the lady she had vowed to serve hated her lord husband's bastard son. She had mistrusted him, and had seemed to grieve with the fact that her younger trueborn sons of her body was dead while the bastard son of the same father lived. "What was the name of the bastard he fathered? Snow, that was the one. Such a white name." She remembered how Lady Catelyn's face had twisted in anger when Jamie had said those words. Although she had not met Robb Stark, her eldest son and the King of the North, it seemed that he and his bastard brother were close. Perhaps they will meet together in the afterlife. It was said that the Lord Commander was bedridden with wounds crisscrossing his body.
Brienne had also confirmed that Stannis was riding to Winterfell to claim it as his own. She and Jaime had passed the dead carcasses of horses and men; all were frozen or had been picked at by carrion crows. Some had the symbol of a fiery heart surrounded by flames with a stag in the center. Their footsteps had been covered by the recent snow, but Brienne was certain that Stannis was at – or in any case near – Winterfell and would listen to her pleas to place the last trueborn heir to Winterfell, Lady Sansa Stark as the Warden of the North and the Lady of Winterfell. And then Brienne's quest would be done and Sansa would be safe. Brienne didn't know what her future would be after she found the maiden of fourteen. Perhaps she would return home, or serve House Stark until it had regained its former glory. But now here she was riding with a presumed enemy, intent on rescuing a lost girl who could not even be there at Winterfell. Doubts rose in her mind then. What if Sansa Stark was dead? Or missing, like her willful sister, Arya? Brienne recalled what Lady Stoneheart had asked her to do. She wanted me to kill Jamie. The undead mother of Sansa Stark no longer cared for her elder daughter. She only wanted vengeance for those who had wronged her. I can't kill him. Jamie saved me and trusts me. He came with me when I asked him. "He is not the boy she made him to be." Brienne knew that most of the smallfolk still considered Jamie to be the Kingslayer, and so had she before he had saved her life. "She says that you must choose. Take the sword and slay the Kingslayer, or be hanged for a betrayer. The sword or then noose, she says. Choose she says. Choose." He's different now, Brienne thought. She glanced behind her and saw with satisfaction that he had was not far behind. She urged her mount forward towards Winterfell.
The next few days were difficult. Brienne's hands were now cold stiff, and her hands shook as she urged her mount forward – when she could. Food and water were nowhere to be seen, and Brienne often licked her lips until they bled. Dried blood now coated her face, and she saw that Jamie was in no better condition. His formerly combed beard was now mangled again and was now had chunks of ice embedded in the golden hair, and he was painfully thin. Brienne tried to focus her energy on finding Winterfell, but more often than not their only sights were blinding snow. Suddenly on the second day, Brienne began to realize why men of Stannis had cut the horses into pieces. From a starving peasants' eye, the horse was full of delicious meat and fat. Brienne could understand why the men had killed and butchered their own horses. If the meat was not rotting and frozen, Brienne would eat the entire horse herself. On the third day, Jamie's horse faltered and wouldn't stand. Brienne had jumped off her horse and came to a conclusion that Jamie was in a similar condition. He was barely conscious, and she had to put him on her broad back and whispered, "Hold on, Jamie." He seemed to not have heard. Despite his weight, Brienne moved easier. Although half of her body was hindered by snow, she found it easier to move on her two legs. Her mount called for her, but Brienne didn't look back. I have to find her, she thought as she trudged through the cold snow blanket. I have to find Lady Sansa Stark.
Eventually her body numbed and her hair was wet from the snow. Jamie's body had become heavy, and the sword, Oathkeeper, as slowed her pace. Eventually she came to see a castle in the distance. Parts of the castle were rubble, Brienne could see as she stumbled closer. Parts of it were also burned black, and were fallen stones crossed her path as she walked closer and closer to the former magnificent castle that had been burned and sacked by Ramsay Bolton. Brienne was exhausted, her sweat freezing when it came to her skin, and stumbled to the doors that opened to Winterfell. A warrior in plain mail stood before the entrance, with a stag surrounded by a flaming heart as his sigil across his mail plate. "Who are you?" Although he tried to be authoritive, his voice failed him once he saw Brienne almost leaning toward him and carrying a limp body on her shoulders.
"I'm here to see Stannis," she gulped, hoping that her chattering teeth wouldn't make it hard to understand. "I'm here to find Lady Sansa Stark, the Warden of the North and the Lady of Winterfell." She felt faint and saw stars above her head. To the warrior's credit, he managed to catch her when she fainted in his arms.