Brienne stood by Jaime's side as the maester or whatever Sam Tarly was, examined him. She was still shaking.

They have won. Jaime killing the dragon distracted the Night King for a moment – the only thing Jon needed to stab him in the chest with his sword. And then it all ended – the Night King and the walkers shattered like glass, the wights dropped lifeless.

But Brienne couldn't really feel relieved or joyous or victorious. Not when her bloody fool of a husband was still unconscious and showed no signs of waking up.

Sam Tarly finished his exam and sighed.

'The hit he took – it was severe. We can't know what damage it caused.'

Trying to steady her voice and herself, Brienne asked what she had no desire to ask, but needed to.

"Will he live?"

Sam sighed.

"I can't say yet. If he survives the night, then we can hope."

Brienne kept looking at him. The even rises and falls of his chest, the somewhat paler tone of his skin. But he had promised her.

"He will."

"I hope so, lady Brienne. Now let me look at your wounds."

She shook her head.

"No. I am fine. If you can't do anything more for him, there are others who need your care. Tend to them."

"Lady Brienne, you are bleeding quite a lot from that wound on your shoulder. I am sure you have other injuries as well. Let me…"

She finally turned to look at Sam. She had to be clear.

"NO! I will not leave Jaime's side, nor will I let you treat scratches and bruises when there are soldiers on the brink of death."

"As you wish, milady." the young man said as he left the room.

Brienne looked at Jaime again and brought his hand to her lips. He looked so vulnerable and so fragile. She smiled a little. He would never forgive her for thinking of his as fragile. He would groan and tell her he may be old but he could still beat her in a fight and he survived thousands of dead creatures coming at him. He would just not shut about it until she silenced him with a kiss. Her eyes filled with tears.

"You have to wake up. You just have to."

A little while later, Brienne didn't know how long exactly, someone carefully opened the door. She didn't turn to see who, she was focused only on Jaime. In a moment, she saw Jon Snow standing on the other side of the bed.

"Has he awoken even for a little while?"

"No."

Jon took a deep breath. He was young, but right now, he looked so much older, like he had lived a thousand lives. And he probably felt that way. 'Don't we all?' Brienne asked herself.

"What he did… If it wasn't for him, I am not sure if we would've survived."

Brienne knew that. She knew she was supposed to be proud of him. But she couldn't help but wish she hadn't done it.

"You know, I was harsh to him when he arrived, I did not trust him. But as I watched him those few weeks, I understood I misjudged him. And now, we owe ser Jaime everything."

Brienne finally met Jon Snow's eyes. She could see he was beating himself up for his initial mistrust.

"He has always been a man of honor and courage. He just didn't believe it. If you knew half of what I know of him, you would've trusted him right away. But I know what his family did to you, what he did to Bran, I know why you didn't trust him."

He just nodded at her.

"I truly, sincerely hope he will wake up so that I can thank him myself."

She gave him a weak smile and turned her eyes back to Jaime.

"Have you seen Sam about your injuries? Have you had food and water, lady Brienne?"

"No, I am not leaving him."

The way she said the words seemed to have been quite clear, as Jon Snow turned around and left them alone again.

In a little while though, lady Sansa came in.

"Lady Brienne, please, go to Sam, you need to take care of these wounds, to freshen up, eat and drink. You fought a hard battle."

She shook her head. Didn't they understand that she could not go?!

"No, milady. I won't leave him."

Sansa put her hand on Brienne's shoulder and spoke gently, yet firmly at the same time.

"Lady Brienne, Ser Jaime came to me at your wedding and asked me to look after you if something happened to him, and I promised him I would. I will honor my word. You need to take care of yourself, for him. Ser Jaime loves you. And when he wakes up, he will hate himself if something happened to you because you refused to leave his side. So, if you don't want to do it for yourself, do it for him."

Brienne felt on the brink of tears again.

"But what if he something happens and I am not here?"

"If anything changes, I promise you will know right away. I will stay with ser Jaime, Lord Tyrion is on his way too."

She was scared to leave him again. She never wanted to leave him again.

But she knew she had to do it.

Because that's what Jaime wanted.

Slowly, Brienne nodded. Lady Sansa gave her a comforting smile.

"Go, I have ordered the maids to draw you a bath in my chamber and bring in some of your clothes there. I will not leave his side."

As hard as it was, Brienne kissed Jaime's hand and then let go of it.

After she washed all the blood, sweat and mud off her and got dressed, she went as quickly as she could to Sam Tarly. The quicker all of this was over, the quicker she would be able to go back to Jaime. The boy examined her, cleaned and patched her wounds.

"This will require a daily change of dressing so it doesn't fester. I will give you some ointment for your bruises, but otherwise, you are fine. But you need rest."

As if she would be able to.

"I will rest when I know my husband is going to live."

Sam sighed.

"Lady Brienne, I want to be honest with you. I think ser Jaime will survive – his wounds are basically scratches, his breathing is normal, so far he has no fever. But head injuries are… unpredictable. He may live, but he might not wake up again."

The words shook her to the core. How could he have been so stupid? How did she let him do this? And now… But Brienne refused to give up on him. She would never give up on him.

"He will. I know him. He will come back to me, he promised me he would."

The next ten days were spent recovering from the battle. They had retrieved all the bodies and burned them, they injured were recovering, repairs were beginning around Winterfell. And preparations were made for the war that was to come. Because Cersei Lannister could attack them any day now.

And Jaime was still unconscious.

All this time, Brienne had barely left his side. Tyrion had come several times a day every day, Sansa, Jon, even Daenerys had come. But Brienne almost never left – only when she bathed and when Sam Tarly was changing the dressing on her wound, which proved harder to heal than they thought at first (not that she cared for a pesky wound). She ate right next to him, she slept right next to him. Everyone was trying to convince her to take a walk, to sleep more, to eat more. But she couldn't. She couldn't bear the thought of leaving him alone.

That day, she went to Sam to look at her wound again. As usually, Brienne barely spoke.

"The wound is finally closing. No fever, right?"

"No."

"That is good. But, lady Brienne, you need to take better care of yourself. You need more sleep and more food. Especially now."

Brienne turned to him suddenly. Sam smiled and nodded, then turned around. She got up and left, her thoughts running through her mind faster than a speeding horse.

Brienne went back to their chamber. Tyrion was still there. After some small talk, he left them alone. Brienne laid next to Jaime carefully, kissed his cheek and put her arm over his heart as she kindly spoke to him:

"Please, Jaime, wake up. You need to wake up because now, you have more to live for."