Jaime – at the cliffs

Lord Selwyn approached him as he sat on the high rocks facing the sea. It had become his favorite place. Sea as far as the eyes could see. He had a letter in his hands. "I've taken the liberty of reading it myself first," he said with a grimace. "Can't have you receiving secret messages."

Of course he had, Jaime thought. It hardly mattered. Apart from being shunned by most of the island population, Tarth was treating him well. The food was good, his bed was soft, he'd taken in a stray hound. His guards didn't bother him much and Suzanne was a good companion. This life was not his first choice perhaps, but miles better than most of the alternatives.

"From Brienne?" he asked, knowing full well it would be.

Her father nodded. "Not a bloody love letter at least," he said, clearly relieved. "Just about the day to day stuff. Conversation-like." Jaime was oddly disappointed, though if her father read along, it was probably for the best.

He sat beside him instead of stalking off like he usually did when he had something or other to convey. Jaime rose his eyebrows but said nothing.

"You know," the old Lord began, "in her first letter, the one you brought with you, she asked me to treat you like the son I never had." His laugh was full of scorn. "As if!"

Jaime kept still. Something was coming, he could sense it. A lifetime of danger had given him uncanny abilities in that respect.

Lord Selwyn sighed. "As if," he mumbled, more to himself than to Jaime. "In this one – the fourth if my count is right – she thanks me for it. As if I actually had."

Jaime moved uncomfortably. "You've done quite enough," he said. "I'm in exile. I'm grateful for what you have done."

"Aye," her father said. "Beggars can't be choosers."

"Indeed." He could no longer afford the Lannister pride.

"I've decided you need a task," he said. "Something to occupy your time and your mind. You can't keep staring out to the sea like that. It has driven men mad. And I won't have you roaming across the Isle at all hours anymore either with that bloody dog of yours."

"What do you wish me to do?" he asked. He could not imagine the stern man to suddenly trust him.

"There are books that need new bindings," Lord Selwyn said. "The Maester will show you what's what."

"Thank you," he said, as Lord Selwyn handed him the letter. "Truly."

The man did not reply. Suzanne would be pleased too, Jaime thought, as he might get her some books on ancient medicine.

The letter was mostly day to day stuff, conversation-like. Lady Sansa was supposed to get a suitor but nothing had been agreed upon yet. Jaime really couldn't care less. Half the letter was about one Stark or another. He wished Brienne talked more about herself instead. She was the one he cared for, not those Northerners. But Brienne was coy about the details of her life. He grew restless of it. Was she leaving valuable information out?

Brienne – preparing the raven to Jaime

Brienne didn't know how to tell him. She kept on rambling on and on about Lady Sansa. Jaime had given her his blessing, but even so, it seemed too harsh. Too cruel. She couldn't do it. Tormund had kissed her. He would soon seduce her to do more. And she might not put up a fight. Brienne knew that. He had called her a wonder of nature. How could she resist that?! She couldn't; she knew she most likely wouldn't. Brienne had lived without love for far too long. It was her time. But she wasn't going to burden him with that knowledge. Not yet anyway.

Brienne – blocked in her tracks

Brienne startled. She'd taken a short cut through a narrow nook of the castle and now her path was blocked. Tormund Giantsbane stood in her way. He looked like a giant, she thought, a bear of a man. "I've been meaning to speak to you," he said with a grin. "You'd almost think it is fate."

"Would that you'd let me pass, Ser," she said. "I'm on my way to Lady Sansa."

"I am no Ser," he said. "Lady Sansa can wait."

Brienne waited. When he didn't move, she said: "What did you wish to relay to me, S… I mean, Tormund?" She tasted his name on her lips. It was strong, she decided, just like him. Firm.

He took a step closer. Brienne's hand went to the hilt of her sword. Tormund smiled. "You have the wildling spirit, I see," he said with appraising eyes. "When our people marry – which we rarely do – we take a woman and if she does not fight all the way, she isn't worth much."

"That's not how things are done South of the Wall," she warned him. "Nor at Tarth, where I was born."

"I know," he said bowing his head in acknowledgment. "I've learnt some of the customs here."

"That is pleasing news," Brienne said. "I'd hate for there to be a misunderstanding causing loss of limb." To her own surprise, her voice had less steel in it than she'd imagined.

"Aye," he said. "Though there are worse things in the world than an honorable fight."

Brienne smiled, despite herself. "Agreed," she said, dipping her own head.

"I," his voice briefly faltered. "I wish you'd let me nearer," he finally said. "Will you?"

Brienne bit her lip. She took a deep breath, narrowed her eyes, and said: "Very well." Tormund walked towards her and stopped right in front of her. He was big and broad and she felt a shiver of fear. Or was it something else? Brienne couldn't tell. He looked into her eyes and she saw nothing but kindness, yet she also felt like there was a fire brewing underneath the surface. The fire wasn't just inside him either.

"When I first laid my eyes on you," he whispered, his gaze still capturing hers. "I thought: that is a wonder of nature."

Brienne smiled nervously. "Thank you," she said with a quivering voice. All her life she'd been called a freak of nature, yet he saw something else in her. "That means more than you know," she whispered.

A broad grin appeared on his face. "You shouldn't hide yourself," he said. "You have much to share."

He softly lay his hands on her shoulders and slowly pushed her onto the wall behind her. She let him. Her mind briefly flickered to Jaime. He had said she could. That she should even. Tormund's face came close; his beard grazed her skin, and then his mouth was on hers. It was different than she expected. Better. She softly moaned. His hands travelled a little and ended on her breasts. Even through her thick clothes she could feel the heat radiating of him. Of herself too. He whispered into her left ear. "I'll visit you tonight." Brienne was too stunned to reply.