Author's Note: Hello everyone! Thanks for sticking around despite the update times. Man, exams keep me from all of my writing... and some other stuff.

Anywho, thanks for the awesome reviews another time. You are such a kind readership.

I hope you'll like this chapter. I hope I can update the next chapter fast so not to leave you worrying for too long... if you wanna worry, that is.

Please enjoy!

"So… we'll be staying here for the night?" Sansa asks, glancing upwards, tilting her head slightly.

While she long since accepted the circumstance that she only remembers small fragments and shreds of the North, this is most definitely a place she hasn't been to in a lifetime. And if not for Ser Jaime and Lady Brienne by her side, she would likely be too frightened and just ride into the night than consider to stay in this ominous place in which every crevice and creek seems to make noises as though it was a mouth screeching or whistling or whispering.

"Yes," Jaime agrees, also looking up the long since abandoned tower. "At last, a roof that's not treetops. Let us rejoice, I'd say."

He reckons the building looks less frightening by daylight, but in the night, one can hardly make out the top of the tower, the mist looming around it like a rattlesnake around the mouse it means to eat. And that can be quite frightening indeed. Abandoned towns and cities always have that queer atmosphere of bad foreboding in his opinion, as though life itself has long since left this place, not finding anything to feed on there.

"Then let's bring the horses over to that stable and get inside," Brienne suggests, nodding at the ramshackle stable there. Jaime nods. They go on to unsaddle the horses, give them water and food, and shoulder their bags to head out. The three walk inside the tower. Brienne takes the front, upon her insistence, of course, and Jaime the back, so to make sure that Lady Sansa is protected as they make sure that there is no one else around. Sansa stays in the middle, holding up the candle they brought along to light the way as they climb the stairs.

Shadows dance over the walls to unknown rhythms and melodies, flitting from one stair to the next as though they were tumbling down from the snowstorm raging outside. Sansa glances on with a bit of fascination as the shadows continue their roundel, but suddenly strange noises echo through the narrow staircase. Sansa tears her eyes away from the shadowy creatures at once, growing frightened of them now that they seem to sing as well. Brienne gestures at them to halt. Jaime already holds up his little crossbow, just in case.

Brienne climbs to the top of the stairs to come to stand in front of an old wooden door. She gestures at Sansa – and the young lady understands at once, days and weeks of travelling with them having taught her those signs by now, so she puts the candle out, so not to give away to whoever may be inside this room that they are about to enter. Jaime gets in front of Sansa and into a position that allows him to have Brienne's back as she slowly opens the door.

Brienne has Oathkeeper ready to strike as she steps inside, the blade forming a long white disk as the moonlight hits its smooth surface, shining like a star, but suddenly there are those noises again. Sansa covers her mouth to prevent herself from letting out a shout of shock, but that is when Brienne's voice rings out loudly and reassuringly, "It's alright. Just the ravens."

The three walk inside, and on the windowsill sit three ravens, cawing and fluttering their wings, creating the strange noises that come from their echoes flitting down the corridors to give voice to the silent shadows as they dance.

Once Jaime sees the birds, he lets out a loud laughter.

"What is so funny about these birds?" Sansa frowns, glancing back between the animals and Ser Jaime, who still has a big smile on his face. While she is no longer as jumpy as she used to be a while back, those birds still managed to give her quite a scare.

"Sometimes I am just amazed that my brother is so often right even though he kills so much of his mind with the wine he drinks," Jaime says, shaking his head as he walks over to the windowsill, inspecting the birds with gleaming eyes. "The little devil never ceases to surprise me."

"What now?" Sansa wrinkles her nose before she goes ahead to relight the candle again to allow for a bit more light to flood the room.

"Before we set out to find you, we talked about what to do in case we were to move North to the Wall. Lord Tyrion suggested that Queenscrown might be a favorable place to go to. He's seen it on his way to the Wall, if only from far," Brienne explains as she unshoulders the bags to put in a pile.

"Why so?" the young Stark daughter grimaces.

"For one, it's a good strategic point for us. Even if someone were to see us here and report back to Winterfell, it'd take way too long for them to send forces to fetch us. By the time anyone would be able to come after us, we'd long since knock on the doors of Castle Black," Jaime explains. "At least that was the idea."

"The other thing is that we hoped that this might be our one way to get message from Lord Tyrion, safe information," Brienne adds.

"With the ravens," Sansa blinks, starting to comprehend. Of course Lord Tyrion couldn't just send a message to some town in the hope that Lady Brienne and Ser Jaime would come to pass it on their passage up. Needless to mention that it may have revealed to other people how they move and to where they are headed. Just like Sansa reckons it was to ensure that no one would read those messages who is not supposed to read them. In times such as these, even the most loyal men can turn their backs on you, given the right coin - or the right threat.

Jaime's eyes fall back on the birds, which are surprisingly calm in their presence. While he is aware that they have been trained to obey humans, it is still more of a miracle to Jaime that they didn't even once attempt to fly away, even when they saw Brienne wriggle Oathkeeper around upon entering the chamber. The birds should be about as jumpy as Lady Sansa, or so he reckons.

Well, perhaps the ravens just happen to very lazy. Jaime will be the last to complain about them doing what they are supposed to do – Tyrion warned him that it might well be that the birds will not stay or lose the message along the way, but that this was the safest option they had nevertheless, and the only chance of any sort of communication.

Jaime swats his knees a little to glance at the ravens and the birds tilt their head back at him as though they copied his movement.

Curious creatures, truly.

"You can train those birds to fly wherever need be. They don't make the difference between an abandoned tower or one where the old Maester heaves his body up the stairs every now and then. For as long as they are fed. And gladly, there happens to be enough around that seems to keep them," Jaime goes on.

At least that is the only explanation he can come up with that would explain why the birds stayed despite the fact that no one was there to receive their messages or tend to them.

"We agreed that Lord Tyrion shall send any raven to this location if he must, since this would still have best chances of being on our way – and safe from anyone's view. No one bothers about some raven flying over an abandoned tower," Brienne says.

She didn't think of that option, but when Lord Tyrion suggested it, it made sense to her. It meant most protection – and that is what counted most to Brienne. She'd rather read old messages or none at all than have them intercepted by one of their enemies to get on either one's trail.

"I see," Sansa nods.

"Care to help me with those, my lady? The knots are too tiny for me to undo with one hand," Jaime winks at Brienne. She rolls her eyes at him as she trots over to him.

"What? I asked nicely," he chuckles.

"Don't think I don't realize how you stress the 'my lady' part," Brienne warns him.

"But that is what you are!" he grins. Brienne rolls her eyes as she bends down to the ravens, hoping that they will not be too afraid of her. Brienne still remembers rather vividly that she didn't get to go to the cote on Tarth once she had grown quite a bit in a short amount of time. She was rather clumsy and the birds flew away when she approached them. The old Maester always scolded her for being so awkward and "fidgety", though Brienne can't say she was ever really fidgety, just clumsy.

She means to grab the scroll, but that is when the first bird flutters its wings. Brienne already fears the raven will fly away any second now, but instead, the bird climbs on her arm to allow her to stand as she unfastens the knot to retrieve the message. Once she is done, the bird sits back down on the windowsill and seems to glance at her.

That either means she is no longer as "fidgety" as she was said to be in her youth, or those birds are a much calmer breed than the one they had on Tarth. Though Brienne tends to the latter option. Yet, it's odd that those birds are so attentive and are seemingly waiting for them. And that even though Brienne was fully prepared for not getting any message since there seems to be nothing that would keep the birds here. No good food. The shelter of the tower perhaps, but beyond that? She shakes her head – now is most definitely not the time to ponder on the nature of those animals, is it?

"This one seems to be the oldest," Brienne concludes, inspecting the small scroll. "It's most used and ambered by the edges."

"Or the bird had his fun playing in the mud," Jaime shrugs. Brienne cracks the seal open to reveal the message inside. Her big blue eyes skim over the message. The moonlight in her favor since it shines rather brightly through the window despite the heavy snow, allowing her to read the message without the need of the candle Sansa has beside her.

Brienne looks slightly to the side to see Jaime leaning over her shoulder to read the message as well, only to break out laughing.

"What does it say?" Sansa asks, to which he seems to laugh even harder – and pace through the room. "What now?"

Jaime holds up his hands, "I am sorry, Lady Sansa. This was not meant against you. It's the letter."

Sansa tilts her head, so Brienne hands her the parchment so she may see for herself.

Dearest sister,

We are all in best health – and hope that same is true for you.

Our family has grown considerably since your last visit. We are now happy to announce that our son was born -
and that we have a maid to take care of him while we are away for our daily labor.

Your niece sends her regards. She misses you dearly and hopes to see you soon again.

Yours,

Ella

"I mean, I must give him that much – he knows how to write those messages, but did he really have to refer to me as his 'dearest sister'?" he snorts. "Well, at least he called himself Ella. If he dares make jokes at this, he will get that right back, the little devil."

"I fear I still don't understand the joke. I mean, I understand that this is a cryptic message to disguise the true content, but…," Sansa mutters pensively, noting the very different reactions in both adults. Jaime keeps chuckling as though he was slightly drunk, while Brienne keeps staring at the ground with wide eyes.

Tyrion let him know beforehand that he would make this message rather cryptic before they went. While he was in good faith that no one would find the messages here, one cannot be careful enough. And letters get lost all the while. And as Jaime reminds himself - sometimes even the birds in King's Landing just happen to fall from the sky, with a little help from one's allies, hiding behind the roses.

"It is no joke, and that is the good thing. This seemingly means that… your sister, by the time this letter was sent… was with them, alongside the Hound, the 'son' and the 'maid'. She didn't run away," Jaime says, his mouth still nervously flexing. While Brienne was even more upset about it than he was, the nagging sensation was still there, every day and night. That they had forsaken one daughter for the other. That she may have betrayed her promise like he has done so many times before.

But… it seems to become golden rule that the Ladies of Winterfell, however young, keep surprising him.

"Arya," Sansa's mouth now also edges into a growing smile. "She is with them…"

No longer just a figment in the air, a distant memory of the former days when she hid behind snowbanks and roots so that Sansa would come looking for her, only to be disappointed when she did not – or took too long. Now it's written, on paper. And Lord Tyrion would not write it if it weren't true.

"Well, she was," Jaime grimaces. "We shouldn't get our spirits too high since we have two more to go."

Brienne nods, bending down to the next bird to retrieve the message attached to its ankle, but yet again the creature conveniently lands on her arm to have it easier. She takes the scroll, breaks the seal, but then hands it over to Jaime, "Read it aloud."

"Cat's got your tongue now or what?" he huffs.

Brienne grumbles as she busies herself with the bird.

"There was a time when you read out loud...," he means to say iwith a grin, but she nudges him in the side.

"Carry on now!" she hisses. Jaime chuckles to himself before he starts to read aloud so Sansa may also hear it.

Dearest sister,

It appears that our planned family feast will have to take place at another time and location.

Father caught a bad infection and it keeps on spreading around the entire town.
Once Father is fit to travel, the healer's put it forth to us that we may head to the North, where the air is crisp and cold, to help his aching lungs.

Henceforth, my suggestion would be to celebrate closer to your home, if that is alright? Let us know what you think of that new plan.

We still want you to finally get to know our newborn son – and your niece is ever the more eager to see you. She complains all day long.

We hope you don't suffer the same disease.

Let us know what you think of the plan.

Yours,

Ella

"… So that means they had to flee, right?" Sansa bites her lower lip.

"Seems like it," Jaime exhales, licking his lips nervously. "And seemingly North the same way…"

That is not good. The plan was that they stayed by the Trident, to know them away from any trouble of the North. While on the way to getting to Sansa, they heard every now and then that there might be war by Winterfell. And they wanted to be sure that the others were as far away from any sort of trouble as was possible, given the circumstances. But now they are supposed to be in the North already? Past Winterfell? Near the Wall? That was most definitely not the plan they had originally set out.

Jaime swallows against the lump forming in his throat.

"But they can't have them, can they?" Sansa asks, hoping that the two will now come up with a convincing explanation, as they ha for most of the things she didn't know, about trails and running away, to make it real that they cannot have gotten caught, that they are safe and that Sansa is just to blind not to see that there is no danger whatsoever.

Please, correct me, now.

"Well, I suppose they wouldn't be hunting us as eagerly as they do if they had another Princess of Winterfell for themselves," Jaime concludes. "But… we haven't seen the searching parties in a few days, so…"

"Which means they might have been called back because…"

"We are no longer the primary target," Jaime nods.

Brienne quickly opens the third letter, her hands now slightly shaking as she hands the parchment over to Jaime, who doesn't find it in himself to cover his growing fright with a tease. Instead, he lifts the parchment into the light so he may read aloud again, his voice slightly shaking as he does so.

Dearest sister,

We can't wait to finally see you again.

To improve Father's health, we have chosen to do a trip by boat on our way to you.
Father seems to respond to the salty air very well, so that we remain hopeful that the infection will come to pass soon.

We hope you get this message in time so not to interfere with your preparations for the family feast.

It might be that we will bring some more guests along, but there is no sure telling at this point.

Please be safe, sister. We have heard of some bothersome news in the North and hope that you are all alright and in best health.
We couldn't bear the thought that something might happen to you.

Our son and your niece send their regards.

Yours,

Ella

"So they have taken the sea passage. That'd explain how they might be close to where we are," Brienne says, biting her lower lip.

The last time they travelled by ship, it didn't end well for anyone. That was the day everything took a turn for bad, very bad. And while Brienne knows that this doesn't have to be the case just because they travel by ship, it still brings back those memories of being hit in the stomach, of Lady Sansa's screams, of Lord Tyrion getting hit, the fear of losing Gurion, the burning ship in the distance as she swam through the water no matter how exhausted she was until the ship was but a faint glimmer at the horizon.

That mustn't ever happen again.

"And if I am not mistaken, he means to say that they passed at least Bear Island before they went to shore, or went to shore close to that location. That means they likely got off before the ship landed by the port near Westwatch-by-the-Bridge," Jaime goes on, trying to find even more clues in those written lines, trying to find the message within the message that everything is fine and that this is just a joke.

But that is all there is.

"But why would they do such a thing? If they have Arya… they straightly could have gone for the Wall," Sansa furrows her eyebrows.

What would keep them from getting someplace safe? Jon never would deny Arya entrance. And Sansa can't imagine that Jon would have denied a baby into Castle Black either, for that he is too kind-hearted. While she can't say she treated him with kindness, she knows he has it. And Lord Tyrion never spoke of him in a bad way while they were still in King's Landing. Indeed, it seemed to her that there was perhaps even a fragile bond of friendship between them. Lord Tyrion must have known of that.

"Something must have prevented them from it. My brother most certainly chose the path that meant least risk… he'd know what I would do to him, were I to find out that he put my son at unnecessary risk," Jaime shrugs, though it seems to be that he does so to get the stiffness out of his shoulders, pulled by distress and growing fear. "Perchance someone on the ship recognized them or so, someone who may be no friend at all. That'd explain why they may have gotten off at another port, to disguise to where they are headed or so."

"But where are they, then?" Sansa asks.

It can't be that Arya is gone again even though those lines confirm that she meant to stay.

She can't be hiding under different tree roots again, can she? Out of Sansa's view… again.

"Well, if they moved logically, they'd be headed towards Queenscrown, if they couldn't head for the Wall straight away. Because we agreed that this would be one of the stations we would aim for. And in the letter it says that he hopes to see us soon again. If that is so, they should be somewhere between here and Westwatch-by-the-Bridge… and that means they are coming from Western direction, heading our way," Jaime explains, calling the maps to his mind in the faint hope of finding direction while tracing those paths, but only ends up seeing more places from where they might have been taken.

One of the ravens caws, forcing his eyes back open and away from the dark imaginary maps.

"Unless they got caught," Brienne adds solemnly.

"Unless they got caught, yes," Jaime agrees, averting his gaze.

"… This is not… good," Sansa brings out, swallowing thickly.

All the people they care about might be lost in the snow, might have been taken by the Boltons, might have… the possibilities are sheer endless again, like a million snowflakes rising and falling before one's eyes in the midst of a storm.

"Well, it might be a false alarm, but that is the last message they sent. That in turn means they deemed it too dangerous to send a bird flying ever since they left the ship," Jaime goes on, though his eyes are now focused on Brienne, who has broken out of her stasis to now pace around the small circular room.

He has the bad feeling that something forms inside her head that he will be likely against in more than one way.

"Perchance now would be the time to split up," Brienne says, not looking at anyone in particular. Jaime rolls his eyes, "How many times will we have this conversation until you get it into your thick skull that I am not letting you ride off on your own while I will take Sansa to Castle Black – since I assume that this is your plan?"

Always the same with this pig-headed stubborn woman! Now it's not about leaving Arya and the Hound to go see his brother, now it's about finding them. Seven Hells! This woman will insist on it even though she should long since know better that he will not let that happen unless the Seven Hells freeze and the Seven Heavens stand ablaze.

"I can go looking for them," Brienne argues vehemently, seemingly sensing what he is also aiming at. "But our priority remains that we have to see Lady Sansa safely off to the Wall. At the same time, we are to keep the rest safe, including Lady Arya. Now it's ever the more urgent because we cannot afford to wait for much longer in the face of the dangers surrounding us. The searching parties might still tail us. There is no sure way to tell that there is no war about to rise by Winterfell. This is not the same as it was back by the Eyrie… This is about keeping everyone safe, not just about seeking an option that demands least risk!"

Gurion. They have to get to Gurion!

"But if they are indeed bringing 'guests', then it'd be you alone against… a lot of people," Jaime argues.

Gods know that he would rather ride out at once, but he shall be damned if he repeats his mistakes all over. He won't leave Brienne's side ever again, knowing a danger breathing into her neck. He can't afford to lose her. Just like he can't afford to lose Gurion. Or anyone else for the matter. But Jaime is done letting her fight while he is suddenly pushed into the role of fulfilling her sacred vow to Cat in her stead.

"Jaime," she begs.

"Forget it, wench!" Jaime curses. "I told you time and time again that I won't let that happen, ever again. Then I rather head out alone and you two make your way to the Wall."

"I won't let you!" Brienne curses.

Jaime is not the only one who wants to know his loved ones protected. Brienne wants to protect the people important in her life. And that includes Jaime. Just like it includes Gurion. And the other people with him. But she'd rather tear the entire world down than stand by and watch as they are in possibly mortal danger.

"Well, same here!"

She won't get to play Danny Flint on him another time. There is no bloody way that…

"I have the better means," Brienne insists, not even caring if she makes a fool of herself, a stubborn mulish thing he accuses her of being. She is rather considered mulish and stubborn for the rest of her life than put her loved ones at risk and danger, by chickening out, running away, not giving everything she has.

"Because of a missing sword hand? That's insulting," he retorts.

"I also have the sword," Brienne argues.

"And you might just as well give it to the one-handed fool and let him handle it."

"I could…"

"So could I!"

"You don't even know what I meant to say!"

"I don't care, I can do it anyway."

"Listen to me."

"You listen to me. You don't get to go," Jaime hisses.

You don't get to leave me.

"You don't get to forbid me."

"Yes, I do!"

"It is too dangerous and…"

"I will not allow it!" Sansa suddenly says in a loud voice, her eyes screwed shut. The two snap their heads around to her. Sansa is shocked at herself for raising her voice against them. She sinks back down again, lowering her voice as she speaks, "I… I mean… I ask you not to go off on your own. I wouldn't feel good going to the Wall, knowing you in danger. Either one of you."

"Lady Sansa," Brienne tries, but Sansa shakes her head, "We are in this together, aren't we? Didn't you mean that when you told me again and again as we made our way to this very point? My sister is out there. She's my responsibility, too. Not just yours. She is my family, even if I didn't always treat her as such. Lord Tyrion is out there, and we all know how much he did for me. Shae is. Podrick is. Ser Sandor is. And while I do not know your child, I still feel duty for it, for it is because of me that he is not with his mother and father. You all risked your lives for me and…"

She licks her lips. Sansa is honestly surprised at herself for saying these things now. Normally, she keeps to herself, but now the words keep tumbling out again – and the Stark daughter is honestly done keeping them sealed inside her mouth.

There are different kinds of love. Different kinds of responsibilities. Different kinds of people. Why can't there be different kinds of duty, too? Different kinds of honor? Of protection? Courage? Lady Brienne used to tell her that her mother had a "woman's courage", a "lady's courage". And perhaps that is the kind of courage Sansa can take for herself, too?

So Sansa goes on, her voice still rather sheepish, but still strong enough to leave the other two staring at her as she speaks, "And I don't want you to bear what is also my responsibility. I may not be a knight. I won't ever be one. And I don't want to be one either. I won't ever wield a sword. I won't ever ride into battle. I am a lady, I was taught to be such and that is what I am. But that doesn't mean I don't feel duty for the people I care about, too. That doesn't mean I don't want to protect the people I care about, too. And I want to know them protected like I want to know you protected. And if that means that I don't allow that you two split so to put at least one of you at a very high risk… I will not allow it. I… oppose this. I know that you are not sworn to me or so, but… I still ask you not to go off on your own. We can go looking for them. Together."

"Seems like the Lady has spoken again," Jaime snorts. Brienne just stares at the young woman, before bowing her head in silent, resigned agreement.

Sansa dares to flash a small smile to herself as she glances at the candlelight. She is no longer just standing by either. Even if that means that she has to take some risks, even if she has to speak up to people whom she owes more to than words could ever describe.

The ravens caw before flying out the window, into the night, until the snow swallows them.

Later that night, Brienne finds herself sitting on the stairs outside the room, a candle by her side as she busies herself cleaning Oathkeeper.

Her mind is racing anyways, so she volunteered to take the first shift in watching out – one cannot be careful enough. At least her restlessness will come to use, then.

Brienne had no illusions about it that something like that may happen – that the others may have to make a change of plan, head some other place, that Littlefinger's men might hear of them, get some faint whispers to set them on the right track. Brienne had braced herself for that. She really had. But she didn't really brace herself for the possibility that their child is now perhaps even within a day's ride's reach, yet so far away that her eyes sting with unshed tears just thinking of it what would be if any harm was done to Gurion.

She can't even begin to imagine the possibility that any harm was done to him, might be done to him, is done to him right at this second as she cleans her sword.

She vowed to this child's protection long before he was born, she and Jaime both did together, she remembers, and she loves Gurion with such fierceness that it burns cold in the pit of her stomach. This is no longer about missing him, or being angry at the fact that her body also misses Gurion the same way her mind does – and wants to give him milk even when he is not there to drink it, which was more than bothersome a business while on the run. Brienne felt like a cow during those moments when her chest started to hurt just too much and she had to resolve this matter, but she never complained and just found means to rid herself of the milk so not to set the hounds on their trail. But none of that mattered, none of that matters now. That is not about missing him, this is about fearing for Gurion. This is simply about fearing the one being in danger for whom she feels a love that runs so deep that words cannot fathom it.

"Is this seat taken?"

Brienne whips her head around to see Jaime standing next to her, with a grin plastered to his lips. Brienne scolds and grumbles.

"Do you see someone else here?" she grunts.

Jaime chuckles as he sits down next to her, their knees brushing against each other.

"Shouldn't you be with Lady Sansa?" she goes on, not looking at him, busying herself with Oathkeeper instead.

"I think we won't be attacked by gremlins climbing up the tower to claim her… and even if, we'd see them from this window over there, wouldn't we?" Jaime huffs. "I think I'll do her more harm if I keep her from getting some sleep. She needs the rest. And I will most certainly keep her from it for as long as I keep tossing around on the bedroll. And judging by the intensity with which you tend to the blade, I reckon I'm not the only one who's apparently restless."

Jaime had hoped that he would be able to grab some sleep, but once he lied down, his eyes seemed to be forced open ever the wider, no matter how he tried to calm himself with the facts that this might be for nothing since they do not know for certain if they are in any sort of trouble or just had to leave. He knows his brother a smart man and that he knows to maneuver out of the toughest situations, cheating death itself if he must. He knows that the Hound is a strong fellow one will not take down easily. He knows that nothing is lost yet, but…

At the same time, so much is on the line.

So much is possibly at risk that the mere possibility, however small, sends shivers up and down his spine to keep him from lying still.

"If not for the horses being too exhausted and the night being too dangerous at this point, I would have ridden off at once," Brienne says, pressing her lips into a thin line.

"You are still angry at me that I opposed your plan," he snorts.

"Of course I am!" she pouts.

That was to be expected.

"Would you put that sword away? It makes me nervous when you get angry with me with a blade in hand," Jaime huffs. Brienne grumbles as she puts Oathkeeper back into its sheath to put next to her.

"I am mad at you, too, just so that you know," he goes on, trying hard to keep up a lighter tune, though he sees by Brienne's expression that he fails miserably.

She sees through him way too easily. He wished he could offer more comfort, if only by tone or voice. But there is no true comfort he can offer – because the only comfort she will accept is that of seeing Gurion and the others alive and in the flesh, unharmed.

"Good that the sentiment is mutual, then," Brienne huffs.

"I honestly didn't think Sansa would find it in herself to interrupt us in argument. She seems rather shy when she is out of her field of expertise. And that is hardly her field of expertise. But then again… the Stark girls and their mother have always tended to impress me, I must admit. I can't say the same about their father, but… the two definitely take after Cat in the points that matter," Jaime goes on, trying anyway to keep up a lighter tune. It hushes some of the darkness away, if only the one in the periphery of the small candle beside her.

The dances in the shadows that lie beyond the candlelight? He won't be able to hush those away even with the brightest of voices or stories, he knows.

"I don't want to put Lady Sansa at risk," Brienne says.

"Neither do I, but it's either that or her probably chasing after whoever would then go search for the rest of the 'family feast'."

"Do you think they have them?" Brienne asks after a moment of silence, her voice no more than a whisper, too faint to even produce an echo being carried down the narrow staircase.

"I still doubt it, given that no such news reached us," Jaime replies truthfully.

That is one of those shreds he holds on rather desperately. They would have heard of that, wouldn't they?

Wouldn't they?

"What if we were to travel to Castle Black only to find a letter proclaiming that they have them and demand Lady Sansa in exchange for their safe return?"

Jaime takes a moment to contemplate, leaning back slightly before resting his forearms on his thighs, glancing into the darkness, "Then… I will have to slaughter every single Bolton man who dares come between me and my family, easy as that."

"Right," she snorts, also glancing into the darkness, trying to find the monsters hiding in there, but fails to make them out as they continue their wicked dance beyond the reach of the candlelight.

"We weren't fast enough. If we had…," she mumbles, but Jaime interrupts her before she can go on any further, "Brienne, now put that idea to rest at last. We cannot change the situation as it is right now. Thinking about the what ifs and maybes won't bring us forward and you know it. It might be that we worry way too much about things we do not know for certain yet. Perhaps they are just on their way to us and we'll run into them once we head the direction. Perhaps we are just worrying our heads sore over matters that are not even worth the distress they cause us. It's all possible that all is fair and sound."

"As if. When did we ever get this lucky?" she snorts, still not daring to look at him, her eyes fixed on the imaginary creatures lurking through the darkness of the corridor.

"I got lucky enough that Gurion was safely born into this world. That we managed to get Sansa before the Boltons could get their knives out to hold to her throat. We succeeded in convincing Arya to stay, as this letter confirmed…," he says, but then turns his gaze to Brienne, whose eyes instantly fall into his gaze, shining jade in the orange light of the candle.

"I got lucky enough that you took me back despite the wrongs I have done to you," he goes on. "I think that… looking at it like this, we got luckier than I ever dared believe possible for someone the likes of me, and given the circumstances that are dipped into nothing but misfortune. That must mean something."

Brienne's eyes flutter for a moment. She means to gaze back into the darkness, but finds her eyes now fixed on his.

"For better or worse," she mumbles, holding his gaze, holding on to it.

"We will find them," he assures her, his voice no longer forced into the light, but dark as the situation itself is, though Brienne finds more reassurance in those words than the previous ones.

"What if they got taken?" she asks anyway.

"Then we will find them anyway, and the people responsible, easy as that," Jaime replies.

That is the only thing he can offer, however meager it may be. No great cresset or torch to scare the darkness away, just a small flicker dancing around the light of a candle.

"… Maybe you are right and we worry too much… Maybe… they are all sound and on the way to us. It's not entirely impossible," Brienne finds herself say, and catches herself almost believing already for as long as she looks into his eyes to see the certainty where she lacks it – and the uncertainty where she has it.

"Exactly."

Brienne is surprised when he pulls her to him, but the mute warrior standing guard in front of where she has all those loud, screaming emotions allows her to simply sink into that moment as Jaime has his arm wrapped around her shoulder, his chin resting on top of her hairline as she finds her cheek pressing against the hollow between neck and shoulder – the height difference not mattering now that both are seated.

And Brienne always has to remind herself that she never thought it possible that someone would hold her like that – and that she'd allow to be held like that before she got to know Jaime, and even after she knew him in a while. Yet, here she is, and however terrifying the circumstances might be, it makes his words ring truer and truer in her ears, scaring the creatures looming in the darkness away without raising a torch, but simply spreading warmth where there is only cold uncertainty around them. That maybe they got luckier than it seems – and that perhaps their luck will extend a bit further, over to wherever the others are right now, will reach further than this candlelight.

At the same time, Brienne realizes the small tremor in his movements, however much Jaime seemingly tries to control himself as he holds her, wanting to offer her comfort and seemingly trying to downplay his own worries and fears.

Though he must be as afraid as she is. Jaime just knows to hide that fear behind a smile while Brienne can do nothing but draw away. But as she had to learn, there is no drawing away from him, not anymore. No matter how much she wants to run at times, not away from him – that is over in a longer while now, but just away, he makes her stay, he doesn't let her go. He doesn't let her gaze collapse into the darkness and draws her back into the meager light they have against all odds.

If this journey proved one thing to her, then it is that he won't leave her behind even if there is indeed good reason to consider. And while that might make a fool of them both, Brienne finds a strange kind of solace in the secret knowledge that there is someone out there who'd go as far for her as she for him. That it's no longer her sole dedication to another person's cause because she believed herself unworthy as a source of attraction, love. That someone doesn't just allow her to go as far as she does, but walk with her every mile, through rocky terrain, through rivers, snow, and ice. And offer not only a light but also the warmth of an embrace when she herself didn't know she needed it until she had them both.

She squeezes his hand holding her by the shoulder, offering a crooked small smile and is glad for it that Jaime doesn't comment, but simply seems to reflect her own expression, a smile weighed down by sadness and anxiety.

"We will find them," she repeats after a while, not looking at him, her voice barely carrying over to his ears.

Together, not without you – left unspoken, but still understood.

"We will," Jaime agrees.

I promise you – left unsaid, but still heard as she holds on a little more, allows herself to get lost in the comfort offered in his arms. And Jaime finds solace in her closeness the same way, because it's those small, silent moments between running and fighting that Jaime realizes again and again that he has her back. That even if she tries to run away every now and then, she doesn't. And even if she tries to, is done running from him, but only means to run for him as well.

He finds his breath evening out the longer he holds her, and the longer they glance into the darkness, the more they can make out the outlines, to see that those monsters are indeed just stairs or cobwebs or a broken handrail.

And for as long as those monsters can turn out to be no true monsters in the face of light, neither one is willing to give up the hope that light will be unable to reveal the monsters they paint inside their minds and feed with anxiety and fear as no more than illusions all the same.

Their son is not far away from them now. That is what counts. Their light is out there. They just have to find it.

And they will.