The last of the winter storms blew through with fog and rolling thunder. Even the free folk preferred the indoors on those days. For those left behind at Winterfell, the fury of the storms brought the battle back to life. The roar of the dead masses and the shock of the dragon fire a constant barrage of memory.

On nights when the storms looked darkest from a distance, Jaime would don a heavy cloak and brave the slippery steps to the top of the wall. After relieving some grateful soldier or another, he could then stand watch together with Brienne. It was on a night such as this that they huddled for shelter in one of the towers in the dark while sleet pounded the walls and he finally recounted the tale of his attack on Daenerys and her dragon – the outcome of it, at least.

He illustrated with little hyperbole how Bronn had risked his own neck, knocking him from his horse at the last moment. And he held her hand in his when he told her of how he'd pictured her holding him as he sank into the river's depths.

She already knew many of his stories by heart, especially the ones having to do with her. He'd whispered them to her in the night while trying to convince her to give up her stubborn reluctance to marry. She knew how he and Bronn had searched for her at the siege of Riverrun. And how he'd imagined himself falling into the Red Fork to follow her north. He'd told her of the look on his steward's face when he'd reported Brienne's arrival - how he'd been in a foul mood after treating with the Blackfish but Daven had braved coming back into the tent, because he'd clearly known then what Jaime hadn't yet admitted to himself, "that I loved you," he had said with a kiss to her knuckles.

"Your sister," Brienne had said cautiously, "she knew I loved you before I knew it."

Jaime had nodded, tightening his grasp on her hand. "She sussed both of us out. Why do you think I lost so much sleep those last few days?"

He'd told her of Cersei's threats and admitted to sending Daven to keep an eye on when he thought the queen might do something rash before he had a chance to plan Brienne's escape from the capital. And he finally admitted to having posted himself by Brienne's door for a full week before she'd tripped on him, his exhaustion finally having caught up with him.

He'd told her many stories, and had eventually gotten her to concede to wed him before the heart tree in the godswood.

But she'd never heard the dragon story.

When she asked what had possessed him to do something so foolish, his only response was "desperation," and he left it at that. She didn't press him further.

Instead, Brienne told him of how she'd executed Stannis, and how she'd felt at sea afterward. "I'd fulfilled my oath to Lady Catelyn, and I'd avenged Renly. But I didn't know where to take myself. I'd already pledged my sword to Sansa, but it wasn't she who called me back to the road. I got on my horse and headed down the Kingsroad, headed south. Podrick caught up with me after I'd gone a few miles past Winterfell, and he shook me until he got a response, asking where we were going, and should he run back to get supplies. Only then did I realize where I was taking myself."

She believed that she would have ridden straight to King's Landing, straight to Jaime, had Pod not stopped her. "I possibly would have ridden straight up the steps to the White Sword Tower if the horse had fit through the door, I was so outside of myself."

"I almost wish you had."

"It wouldn't have been rational. Or safe, you've said so yourself."

"But I would have known that you were alive," he said distantly, painfully, entwining his fingers with hers.

She let it be. Jaime still had his demons. She did her best to quell their voices, but there were episodes of his life and subjects so raw that she knew to avoid still, confident that he would share when he felt safely away of them.

You are the only one

On the days when it was too wet to train the youngest men and women left behind by the army, they would attend to the Starks – she to Sansa, he to Bran, who it seemed had taken a liking to having Jaime about. "I amuse him, I think," Jaime had told her.

Arya was often nowhere to be found, but she could sometimes be seen flitting to and fro between the forges of the smithy, and the stables. When Sansa and Bran were occasionally together – usually in the library with the maesters, drafting out maps and schematics of the reconstruction, Brienne and Jaime would weave between the stacks until they found each other, brushing hands or lips as they passed when they thought no one was watching. Brienne stopped trimming her hair after Podrick left, and Jaime enjoyed appearing at her side to tuck a lock of hair discretely behind her ear before disappearing again, the ghost of his fingers burning a path across her cheek.

On brighter days those moments were more fleeting, which made their nights even more exhausting. They had their occasional spats, but those only made them more zealous once they were alone again. Jaime had awakened some ancient in Brienne, and they both craved the inferno that came of laying their souls bare to one another.

Almost a month after Jon Snow had led the army south, another raven arrived, this one from Dragonstone. The maester rushed to meet Sansa with it, Brienne trailing just behind the Lady of Winterfell.

From across the yard, Jaime spotted his wife and had been readying to head her way when he saw the maester walking away from the two women, leaving them whispering together with furrowed brows as they crossed to the opposite end of the castle. He moved to catch up with them near the stables but lost sight of them when a supply cart crossed his path. By the time he reached them, Brienne was reading the missive to herself for the second time, her heart sinking into her stomach just as Jaime appeared around the corner making note of her distress.

"What's happened?"

Sansa spun to see Jaime with his eyes only for Brienne, and with a cool glance she nodded to her sworn sword and left them alone. Once Sansa had crossed the nearest threshold, Jaime moved toward his wife.

"Brienne?"

She looked on him with concern as he approached, unsure of how he would take the news. "Tyrion's written." She rushed ahead before Jaime could be too comforted by news that his brother was at least alive and presumably well, "Euron Greyjoy ambushed the fleet. One of the dragons was killed, and the queen's companion has been captured." She watched as Jaime took in the information.

"With only one dragon—"

"One dragon is still quite a bit."

"Cersei will not rest until she gets her way. And now she has leverage over the queen."

She took a step toward him, alarmed at his vehemence.

"Terms are being discussed – I believe they'll try and save Missandei, but—"

"It would be better if they let her die. If Cersei holds nothing over them, they can just act. She's hateful. There's much less in her way of winning this now. And when she does, we'll all just be sitting here waiting to be slaughtered. What were they thinking leaving Winterfell guarded only by women and cripples."

Her face fell. "Jaime—"

The only one that sees me

He looked up at her with a glare, belying the anger and sorrow that raged inside him. But seeing that he'd stung her, He hung his head, ashamed and despondent. "I'm sorry Brienne, I'm not…" he clenched his jaw, unable to bring the words to his mouth. He was afraid – afraid of what catastrophe could befall the capital with his brother there, afraid that Daenerys' madness might finally come to the forefront and destroy more than she intended, and afraid that Cersei might survive it all and live to see the north crushed. Without meeting her glance again, he stalked away leaving his wife clutching the letter.

She knew that look. She gave him his space and did not see him again until after her watch when she returned to their chamber late that night. She found him fully clothed save for his boots, asleep on top of the furs facing the wall, trembling and muttering. After removing her boots and outer layers, she walked around the bed and perched on the edge of it next to him, stroking his hair to try and rouse him from his dream.

"Jaime?"

"No" he shouted, still asleep. She leaned over him, shaking him lightly, but he only kept murmuring unintelligible syllables, his arms fidgeting. Concerned that he might injure himself, she pushed his sleeve up to unbuckle the golden hand, and the movement forced fuller words form him. "have to…plea…let…hrmmff…b….no." The golden hand hit the floor with a thud as she reached to grip his shoulders. "Don't…Brienne!"

Her name surprised her as much as it had startled him out of his nightmare, sitting straight up and gasping, brow sweaty, eyes wild. She held his shoulders tight, and he immediately grabbed at her waist pulling her to him. "You're real," he cried into her hair, "Thank the gods, you're here. We're…I'm here." She moved a hand up to rub the back of his head as if she could pull the nightmares out. He stroked her back, and then pulled his face away from her neck to look at her straight on. "I apologize…earlier, I—"

She brought her forehead to his, stilling him. "It's alright. We're all apprehensive over the news. You seem to be taking it on quite heavily, though."

He looked at her curiously.

"Your nightmare?"

"I dreamt that I left. I left you to go south. You were…crying. In the snow. But when I looked back you were…wounded." His eyes went to her side, and he moved his hand under her shirt as if expecting to pull it back sticky with her blood.

She stood, pulling him up with her. She helped him unbuckle his jacket and they untied each other's linens until they were bare and he was able to run his arm down her ribs to prove that she was whole. He followed her beneath the furs where she drew him into her arms and held him tightly, his head resting on her breast.

That trusts me and believes me

Several days of disparate schedules followed the arrival of Tyrion's report. Every night one of them would go to bed alone and wake up an hour before dawn to find the other climbing into the bed next to them, clutching at them for warmth. They would have half an hour together at most before the day started over.

Some mornings they would just lie there holding onto one another, existing until the sun chased their solitude away. Other mornings, they would reach for each other and find what little solace they could in each other's heat, but never having enough time or energy to love each other fully.

Their dawn parting was always painful.

You are the only one

After nearly a week of this, they finally engineered a way to steal a few hours together for an night by trading sentry and scouting shifts. At the top of their first evening together in weeks, Jaime joined Brienne in the hall for a late repast. He sat across the table from her, their legs entwining, and it was not ten minutes before they had to excuse themselves to the bemusement of their companions.

She was half undressed before she even reached their chamber, breathless as a girl and he nearly pushed her through the door, his hand going to her breeches immediately while she pulled his shirt nearly to pieces, "I feel like I haven't touched you in days."

"I've barely heard your voice save in my dreams. Gods, I need you." He kicked off his breeches while she unbuckled his hand.

"You dreamt of me again?"

"I always dream of you," he said, dragging his lips across her neck, his hand buried in her hair, "But when you're not with me they're not always dreams."

"The same nightmare, then?" Her hands scraped his back as his mouth went to her breasts

"I hope that's all it is."

She pulled his head up and kissed away his fears, shoved him down onto the bed and straddled him.

The only one that knows me

The next morning, two sets of wings alighted on the tower.

Word came from Dragonstone that the Mountain had executed Missandei – that much had been anticipated, at least by some. Jaime knew that mercy was not his sister's virtue.

But the rest of the tidings, written in Lord Varys' neat but spindly script, were grim. At the moment that Missandei had been killed, Cersei's armies had taken advantage of the distraction and attacked the small force that had been gathered before the gate, the majority of Daenerys and Jon's forces having been ordered behind to keep the appearance of a civil congress. Jon Snow had been badly injured, but was expected to recover. Jaime's brother was less fortunate. In the madness, Tyrion had been taken from under Daenerys' nose. If even still alive, he was now once again a prisoner of the mad queen.

Before this could sink in, the maester pulled out a second scroll. There'd been another raven, this one straight from King's Landing under a Lannister seal and directed to Jaime. Under the apprehensive stares of the northerners, Jaime gripped the edge of the table and glared at the maester. "Read it," he said, "I have no secrets from anyone here." Brienne snuck her fingers up his wrist and he immediately released his vise-like grip on the wood and tangled his fingers with hers. Sansa looked between the two of them and it struck her how strong they were together and for one another. Jaime had wronged her family in more ways than one, but he was no longer that man, of this she was certain. He loved Brienne, and he had stayed to help guard her home, and together that was enough for her.

And in the dark you show me

She plucked the scroll from the maester's hand and, to Jaime's surprise, dismissed everyone from the room, save the lovers.

Sansa pressed the note into Brienne's free hand, her eyes trained on Jaime. "She would not have sent it this way if she didn't intend to embarrass or weaken you in some fashion. I will not permit her cruelties to undermine the trust that you've built up here." She turned to the leave the room.

"Wait."

Sansa turned back to them, and saw that Jaime had broken the seal and then taken the letter from Brienne.

"Trust works both ways. Whatever is in this, you should hear. No matter what happens now, we are all facing the same enemy." He flattened the note on the table with his hand, pinning the curling paper with the golden one.

"The dragon usurper is at the gates. Come at once. Help me. Save me. I need you as I have never needed you before. I love you, I—" Jaime shook his head, "Rid yourself…" he looked at Brienne, his realization dawning – Cersei must know – "rid yourself of your…spotted cow, "he spat, "…Ride south to me and all will be forgiven. If—" his breath caught as he scanned the rest. He looked up at Brienne with angry tears welling in the corners of his eyes before he looked back to the scroll. "If the dragon flies over the walls, our brother's head will greet it from the top of the keep, and the wolves will—" he looked at Sansa, releasing the letter, "the wolves will join him. Come and see. Come at once."

A/N: I do not own Game of Throne or these characters; some dialogue may be taken verbatim from HBO's Game of Thrones or George R. R. Martin's A Song of Ice and Fire. Lyrics used are directly from Halestorm's "Break In" (C) 2012.