They leave Sunspear a day after Jon, when they catch a ship straight to Duskendale. All three of them get their hair dyed black, and Ygritte cut hers short. Ser Jaime also has his beard dyed, of course, and is confident no one in the crownlands will recognize him easily, especially if he doesn't speak. Ygritte and Prince Oberyn agree, and, given both of them saw how he looked before joining the Night's Watch, Brienne decides to trust their judgement and doesn't say a word…

Except when he asks for her opinion. "Just because I can't look like the Kingslayer it doesn't mean I should not look good," he says with a teasing voice.

She rolls her eyes, but feels a slight twist on her stomach. No matter what he does—shave his head, let his beard grow indefinitely, get everything dyed, break his hand—Jaime Lannister still looks effortlessly handsome. Knowing his external beauty matches the inside—that he is an honorable and kind man—only makes it worse, because Brienne can't help but feel a pull of attraction towards him.

"Why don't you ask Prince Oberyn," she replies, "and his sweetheart?"

The knight gulps and glances away, and she chuckles. Once Jon told her and Ygritte about the prince's invitation for Ser Jaime to join him and Lady Ellaria in bed, and neither woman let him forget it. Brienne has never been one for jokes, but one cannot spend so much time with Jon Frost, Ygritte and Jaime Lannister without manifesting a sense of humour.

Speaking of the wildling woman, she's so obviously forlorn as the ship sails Brienne has to fight an urge to hug her. She highly doubts her arms are what Ygritte wants… but she can still offer an ear and a shoulder to cry on, she supposes, so she goes to her after they get two cabins—one for the two women and another for Ser Jaime.

"Is there anything I can do to help?", she asks as she sits next to her on their single bed.

Ygritte sniffs, and the sound drives Brienne to take a good look at her. Her face is not puffy, but her eyes are red and dry, and there are tear stains on her cheeks. "I don't know if I did the right thing," she says quietly.

The memory of the fight between her and Jon comes to mind. "You had your reasons," she replies, "and I don't think you were wrong to voice them."

"But I abandoned him," she counters. "Neither you or Sis—Jaime could follow him. I could, and I didn't, for what?"

She takes a deep breath. "I haven't been around you for long," she begins, "but I never heard Jon asking what you wanted for the future. At first, I assumed it had been discussed before I met you, but, when you revealed it wasn't the case…" She shakes her head. "Your relationship is not an arranged marriage. He is not your lord, nor does he own you."

Ygritte sniffs again. "But those… lordship relations are what he knows, aren't they? He grew up in a castle."

"I thought he had grown up in the Wall…"

"With his castle family always close by."

Brienne sighs. Perhaps she is not the best choice for this conversation, as she doesn't know Jon's past, or Ygritte's, all that well. Just as she thinks of calling Ser Jaime, the very man opens the door. "Do you ladies want any—Ygritte?"

He straightens his back and looks at the (former) redhead with concern. Brienne motions for him to close the door and come over, and he follows, sitting by Ygritte's other side. "Is this about Jon?"

Ygritte repeats pretty much all she just told Brienne, and Ser Jaime grows stern. "You know Jon better than that," he says. "Better than I do, and I know his upbringing bears little resemblance to the one Lady Brienne and I got as nobles. From what I've seen, he shares more values with the Free Folk than with the Starks, even if most of these values don't clash with one another."

Already the knight shows a better grasp on the situation that Brienne does; for that, she's grateful. Someone can help her teary-eyed companion. Still, his words don't comfort Ygritte. "What does it have to do with anything?"

"Everything," he replies with a raised brow. "Jon did not grow up hearing he was entitled to a woman. Actually, I'd say he didn't grow up hearing he was entitled to anything. He's a bastard, one that spent his life hidden away at the edge of the world so he wouldn't die. This trip was the first time he saw you every day, according to both of you. He should not have taken you for granted. He was very wrong not to consider what you wanted."

"I did not believe him when he said he loved me," she says, her eyes glimmering with tears once again.

"No one in their right mind would have in your place," Brienne replies instantly. Ser Jaime hums in agreement. Another thought comes to her mind. "May I ask you a question, though?"

Ygritte nods, and she goes on. "Have you ever brought the subject up to Jon? Have you ever tried to get him to talk about your future together?" Just like she never saw him asking, she never saw her doing it either. Of course, until a couple days ago she never thought it was an issue for them but now..

The other woman shakes her head. "No," she says out loud. "I didn't know how." A sniff. "It was wrong of me, wasn't it?"

"Yes," Ser Jaime replies, softer than before. "But it doesn't make his lack of action right. Both of you were wrong, but forcing yourself to swallow all of your protests again and riding to Essos alongside him would only bring heartache in the long run."

Another sniff. "Is that what you think would have happened between you and your sister? If you had followed her to Essos?"

Ser Jaime blinks; clearly, it's not what he expected to hear. To be fair, Brienne is surprised as well by the question. He clears his throat. "Yes," he replies slowly. "At first I was furious—oh, you know it well, I suppose. I was grateful to have my life spared, but I hated that it meant I had to say goodbye to Cersei. But—I have purpose in the Night's Watch. As a metalbender, I had a lot to do in the Wall, as well as Jon to train. And then this mission. I wouldn't have had any of it had I followed Cersei." He sighs. "I've always wanted to serve and be useful. Cersei always wanted power to make change. When she was Queen and I Kingsguard, it fit perfectly, but… I can't think of a scenario in which we wouldn't have fought, and fought badly. Being separated was for the best. It allowed me to fall out of love with her without resenting her."

Brienne blinks, trying to hide her surprise. He no longer loves his twin; he's no longer the Sisterfucker. Ygritte is unfazed by that, as if it is something she already knows. "Do you think the same might happen to me and Jon?"

"I don't know," he admits. "I think you love each other deeply, and the… foundation of your relationship seems to be stronger than what Cersei and I shared. Still… I don't think you'd have lasted if you had followed him without addressing the issues between you." He runs a hand through his hair. "You know, my sister's marriage to the late King Robert had all the ground to work out fine."

"What?", the wildling woman spills. "How, if she—"

"I'm not saying she'd have stopped fucking me," he corrects her, more calmly than Brienne expected. "Robert said Lyanna's name in bed on their wedding night. Cersei saw it as a huge offense and refused to be a real wife to him. Refused to bear his children and treat him with any kindness. In turn, he only hated her more and more. I never said anything to her—why would I, if I benefited from it—but all those issues could have been avoided if Cersei had just… talked about it. If she had bothered to see Robert was still mourning his former bride. If she had made him see how it hurt her. Maybe it wouldn't have changed a thing, but she could have boasted she tried. But she never did; she chose to fuck me as revenge instead."

Despite his last words, he doesn't sound resentful over admitting his sister sort of used him. She suppresses a sigh; it's not like she will ever understand the kind of relationship they had.

"Anyway," he goes on, "it's possible that either you or Jon fall out of love with the other. I told him the same thing, actually, and I'll tell you the same: loving someone means letting go when needed. It's what you both did. It's what I failed to do with Cersei, which nearly brought our deaths—which did bring our children dishonor."

Anyone else saying all those things, Brienne would probably have considered that person wise beyond their years. When Ser Jaime is the one to say them, however, she doesn't see a wise mentor, only a tired man.

Ygritte doesn't look any less sad, but she offers to help with Lady Sansa and Lord Stark, which she sees as progress. "What is your plan?", she asks, because, despite following them to the ship, she hasn't shown any intention to aid them until now—in fact, Brienne she'd stay in the ship, as it'd head to White Harbor after stopping by the crownlands town.

"I've been in Duskendale before," she explains. "I saw the beaches, and I spotted a couple hiding places. When we leave the ship, I'll take Ser Jaime to one of them while I go fetch Lady Sansa. Once I do, we'll hide until we disguise her and find a ship to King's Landing, where we'll fetch her father."

"Or rather, I will," Ser Jaime corrects her gently. "One of us has to stay behind with Lady Sansa, and I'm better qualified to sneak inside the castle, free Ned Stark and go back to wherever the two of them hide."

"I could be the one staying behind with Sansa," Ygritte offers. "Or I could go with you, Jaime. Two is better than one."

The knight beside her hums and nods.

Ygritte is still not satisfied. "What about after we rescue them?"

"We send them to Winterfell, of course," he replies. "Lady Brienne is duty bound to see them safe in their home, I have to go back to the Wall… and I assume you'd like to go back to the Gift, right?"

She nods.

As Ygritte feels nauseous whenever she's out of their shared cabin, Brienne spends daytime with Ser Jaime, who, against all odds, seems to actually enjoy her company.

He asks her many questions about her life, even though he learned half of it while in Tarth. After much prodding, she ends up telling him about her failed betrothal to Ronnet Connington—which makes him visibly cringe—and how she ended up fancying Renly Baratheon—which makes his eyes look a bit… sad? She must be imagining it.

Her embarrassing tales are exchanged for his own stories about him and Cersei. She manages to hide her shock, but she can't help but feel sorry for them both. Even though her love life is a disaster, she knows enough to recognize their relationship was doomed from the start.

Seemingly sensing her sadness, he changes to stories about the time he and his twin looked so alike they were able to switch places: she'd go train in the yards, while he went through her septa's lessons. "Is that how you are able to sing better than most men?", she asks.

He chuckles. "Maybe," he offers, "or maybe my voice is just that good."

She chuckles along, but the slight stomach twist is back. Perhaps she should not spend so much time alone with him; it's doing her mind no good.

They reach Duskendale an hour after sunset, which makes their job even easier. Brienne leaves Ygritte and Ser Jaime in a cave and has them guard her armor and weapons. She only takes a dagger to the Silent Sisters' home. Its location is easy to remember, since it's near the castle she stayed in when she came the first time.

There are no guards; it doesn't surprise her, but the relief is there all the same. Remembering her septa's stories, she circles the house, looking through the windows. Septa Roella once told her that the Silent Sisters often chose to sleep facing the outside world, as its noise compensated for their mandatory silence

Of course, Brienne is as careful as possible when peeking at the open windows; she has to see, but can't let herself be seen. Most rooms feature two or three sisters sleeping, which makes her wonder if she will be able to do her job at all. I must, she reminds herself. I came all this way not to give up at the first obstacle, but to fulfill my vows to Jon. This is her first real task as the Avatar's sworn sword—second if you count sneaking him to safety in Tarth, which she doesn't—and she won't fail.

In the house's backside, she finds Sansa Stark—or who she assumes to be her, given Ser Jaime's and Ygritte's descriptions. Under the moonlight, she spots an auburn-haired, light-skinned girl of medium height lying on her left side. She is alone in her room, which not only is a relief, but sort of reinforces the idea that she is Lady Sansa; after all, she's new, and likely not an actual sister yet. As silently as possible, she climbs inside, glad that she left her armor behind.

Lady Sansa doesn't move at all when she approaches. Sensing she's in deep sleep, she motions to shake her awake. She will be startled, but I can prove I'm here on Jon's behalf. I can only hope I have time for it before the Silent Sisters come for us. However, when she touches the girl's shoulder, she flinches away immediately. She's too cold, she thinks, breathing sharply. Is she alive at all?

"Lady Sansa," she calls, touching her cold shoulder again. "Lady Sansa, I'm Brienne of Tarth, the Avatar's—your cousin's sworn sword."

It's dangerous to say these words out loud—what if this girl is not Sansa Stark?—but she sees no other way.

The girl opens her eyes, and her shoulder grows warmer to the touch. She takes her hand off her skin and sits up, staring at her with wide, blue eyes. "What is my cousin's name?", she asks.

"Jon Frost," she replies easily.

"Where did he grow up?"

"The Wall."

"Who did you meet him with?"

"Ygritte and Ser Jaime Lannister."

She smiles. "I believe you," she states. "Where is Jon now?"

Brienne sighs. "He's off to Essos, to complete his training. He left alone, as he tasked me to rescue you and your father, and Ser Jaime cannot leave Westeros."

Lady Sansa's smile falls. "And Ygritte?"

"She's with us," she replies, "but her reason to stay is hers to tell."

She nods. "Then we must leave as quickly as possible."

"This was easier than I imagined," Ygritte comments when Brienne finishes her report. They are safely tucked inside the cave, and the only noise outside is of the sea waves.

Lady Sansa rolls her eyes. "There is no security in that house," she says. "If it wasn't for the rest of the city, I'd have escaped as soon as I set foot there. But… I had a plan, actually. A complicated and risky one, but still."

Naturally, they ask what it was. Lady Sansa turns to Brienne. "You noticed my skin was cold, right?"

She nods. "I feared you were dead for a few moments," she admits.

The raven-haired girl smiles. "That was the plan. I… I arrived here on a full moon night. At first they set me in a room with no windows and gave me no water. I was about to go insane, feeling so much power inside me but barely able to use it—there was only so much I could do with the water in the air. In my desperation, I remembered how bloodbending works—we have a bloodbender in Winterfell, Theon Greyjoy—and tried to bend my own blood.

"I couldn't do anything Theon does, but I felt my blood grow cold and freeze. I tested the waters, and figured a way to cool me down without freezing and killing myself. That's when the idea came to me: if I used my powers to play dead, the Silent Sisters would send me to be buried in Winterfell."

"You'd die of thirst midway," Brienne protests.

"I don't think I would," she counters gently. "As I go North, my powers increase. I'd get water from air, turn into ice and suck it. And, if I was transported by land, I could just sneak out. They'd think my body was stolen, not that I ran away."

Ser Jaime shifts his sitting position. "It is a good plan," he says, "but I'm glad you didn't have to resort to it."

"So am I," she agrees. "Lady Brienne said her task includes rescuing my father."

"And we will," Ygritte confirms, then yawns.

Her yawn is contagious, and soon they all decide to go to sleep, even though Lady Sansa looks eager to ask about her cousin. Well, they have tomorrow for that.