A raven was dispatched to Dragonstone immediately, relaying the contents of the mad queen's missive.
"I've promised aid, and I've cautioned against further action until it arrives," said Sansa to the room. Jaime and Brienne stood side by side, rejoined by Arya and Bran, Samwell, Tormund, Gendry and a handful of Stark men. "We don't have many soldiers left behind - some three hundred all told, but we can spare perhaps half to replace those who were lost. Lord Alten," she said turning to one of the bannermen in the corner, "I believe the majority of the fighting men are yours, is that so?"
"It is, my lady."
"And when could they be ready to march?"
"I think three days, my lady. The tents are still being mended, and some of the most able men are still without usable weapons."
"Very well," said Sansa, "please see to your men. I'll let you know when more decisions have been made." Lord Alten nodded and departed with his sons in tow.
"You'll need someone to lead them south," Samwell chimed after the men had left, "a leader. Almost all of these men were injured in the last battle and they need someone who will keep them marching toward the next one."
"Yes. And I believe it should be someone in this room." She gave Brienne a pointed glance, and Brienne's heart leapt into her throat.
Jaime knew that Tyrion had been aware of the risks before he'd set out. He'd known the dangers that lay ahead, and he'd bravely gone south anyway. Jaime would never go back to his sister, just as he would never be able to save his brother, but he could follow his example if it meant protecting the only person he had left - the one that mattered most. This could be the most foolhardy thing he would ever do, but he was through being idle.
Tormund stepped closer to the table, looking resolutely at Sansa, "I'll do'it. And I'll kill any bloody bastard who tries to desert."
Sam made a gentle but uncertain noise at the wildling's side, causing Tormund to look down at the little former crow with eyebrows raised to challenge him. "These soldiers need someone who can keep them in order, not just in line out of fear. And they'll need someone who knows the land - who's traveled it before. Many of these Stark men have never been south of Moat Cailin."
"Moat?"
"Exactly," came Sansa. "Tormund I thank you for volunteering - I know that Jon would have you there if possible. But your people need you here. And should Cersei's forces succeed, he would want you here defending the north."
Tormund grunted in assent and, stepping back, looked thoughtfully toward Jaime and Brienne, noting how the woman he had once pined for now looked sick to her stomach with worry.
"I'll go."
Brienne tensed at his side, "Jaime, you can't, she'll kill you."
He looked up into her eyes, those serene pools that of late had been so stormcast, "She might kill me, but she'd definitely kill you. It has to be me."
He broke from her eyes and turned to Sansa. Brienne panicked, tears springing to her eyes, and dug a hand into his arm as he turned from her. She couldn't stand to lose him now that they'd finally found one another. She still didn't know what had driven him to some of his most desperate actions and she feared that the loss of his brother would put him over that edge yet again.
Jaime met Sansa's gaze with all the courage he could muster and covered Brienne's hand with his. "I swore an oath to Ser Brienne, even before we were married, I swore that only she could command me. While I do not think it wise to deplete the northern forces further, even to aid Jon, it is all we can do. You will still need your protection here, but if Brienne will release me from that oath, then I will take up your banners and march south to Jon."
"Your brother is in jeopardy as well," Sansa replied gently. He is no longer my husband, but I do care for him. It's not only for Jon that I send these reinforcements.
He tightened his hold on the hand that gripped him. "She's probably killed him already, my lady. Jon is alive...Tyrion likely is not. I'm not going in order to bargain with Cersei, I'm going to ensure that she never sees the outside of the keep again."
"We'll both go," came her strained voice behind him.
"No!" Jaime shouted as he spun back to her, holding her wrist. "Lady Sansa must remain the north with her brother and sister. She needs you, they all do. We may not succeed in the south, and then you and the remaining forces will be the only thing left to protect them. You are their best chance for survival."
"I'm going south," came Arya's strange aloof voice from the corner, and they all turned to look at the hero of Winterfell, the strange young woman who was fiercer than anyone might have imagined. "I'm not meant to stay here." She looked up at Brienne, "I'll ride down the kingsroad with your husband. Our bannermen may respect him more with a Stark in their midst."
Sansa had long given up trying to tame her sister, so she nodded along with the others in quiet agreement.
"I'll go as well," came the low rumble of the new Lord of the Stormlands. "Once we're past the trident I'll ride ahead to Storm's End and rally what troops I can to the cause." He snuck a look in Arya's direction, then turned to Jaime. "I only know forging and fighting. I've never lead men into anything. But-"
"-But you can learn. Yes." Jaime forced Brienne to look at him. "If we fail, you could go to the free cities or - the wall, go beyond the wall," he urged with a glance towards Tormund. "Cersei's southern troops will never get to it without losses, and even with the breakage, the trek would be difficult for her armies. They'll be coming for Sansa - Cersei will not let her live. But by the time they reach the wall, it might not matter how many there are. You'll stand a fighting chance."
Tormund nodded. "With the last of these storms passed, it will be safe enough to travel. And once we get beyond the wall it would be hard on a southern army to find us, even in spring."
"I cannot abandon my home again," said Sansa behind him. "There must always be a Stark in Winterfell."
"There will be," came Bran's spiritless assurance from beside the hearth. Bran looked at Jaime with a queer sort of smile that did nothing to put him at ease.
Sansa stepped toward Jaime and Brienne. "Would the rest of you please excuse us? Lord Gendry, I'll see that Lord Alten seeks you out."
"Thank you, Lady Sansa." He departed and the others filed out behind him, Samwell pushing Bran in front of him. Tormund was the last to leave. Before he closed the door he looked back to see Brienne's face crumbling in misery. He shook his head and closed the door behind him. Once they were gone, Sansa took Brienne's free hand in hers.
"Brienne, I know what is being asked of you now. And I am sorry for it. There does not appear to be another option. Will you release Ser Jaime from his oath and permit him to lead the army south?"
Brienne looked down at the girl, a woman who had experienced more than her fair share of pain and loss, and despite that, could not fathom what she was really asking. Jaime was so embedded in her soul now that this parting could ruin both of them. And yet she had no choice.
"No-"
Sansa was taken aback and Jaime clutched at his wife. "Brienne, don't-"
"-No, I will not release you from your oath. Please do not-I cannot. But I can command you to lead the army south for Sansa...and I command you to return to me when the fighting is ov-" her voice broke, and her knees suddenly felt as if they could not hold her any longer. She couldn't recall ever feeling so weak. Even with Locke's men, even at Harrenhal, she'd never felt so impotent.
"Thank you, Brienne," Sansa said quietly. Then, rallying, "Ser Jaime, please rejoin Lord Alten below when you can...Brienne, I will ask the master of arms to see to it that the two of you are not on duty for the remainder of his time here." She turned back to Jaime with a solemn but knowing glance, "You will need your strength."
She took them both in with all the pity in her heart, and left the room. Before the door had closed, Brienne fell to her knees with a cry, Jaime catching her under her arms and sinking to the ground with her. She wrapped her arms around his shoulders desperately pressing him to her, her lips at his ear as his heart broke. "Swear to me, Jaime. Swear that you will come back, that you will not let her-"
He wound his hand in her hair and gently tugged her head back so that he could lay hold of her lips with his. The taste of his tears finally drew out her own and she wept into his mouth. He pressed his forehead to hers and snuck his arm between them to clasp her face. "You will be with me. In my heart, in my dreams."
"You know this is suicide."
"It's not. Know that I mean to live. That I promise you. It's not like before. I have every intention of living."
"And if you don't succeed? If she wins this? We could have been together instea-"
"It won't matter. I will find you, Brienne. As long as we live...and long thereafter. I will always find you." He brought his hand up higher to wipe a tear from the corner of her eye. "Whenever you close your eyes, it will be me kissing these lids. And each time you wield your sword, I will strengthen your arm. Any time the wind combs through your hair, I'm reaching out to touch you. ...And any time someone manages to irritate you to the point of madness, you can be assured that I'm behind it."
She glared at him and he kissed her angry mouth and stroked her furrowed brow, every touch a promise and a prayer, until her tears had dried. And after he'd seen to Lord Alten's needs he returned to their chamber and continued his devotions.
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.