Based on events during Episode 3 of GoT Season 8

(Also includes flashback from Episode 7 of GoT Season 3)

The night had suddenly come alive with fire. Jaime nodded with a slight surge of hopefulness as his mesmerized gaze followed the flames dancing to the side of him, Brienne and Pod. All the soldiers watched, stunned, as the Dothraki swords continued to light up around them. Perhaps they had a chance at beating the dead after all.

'Have you ever seen anything like it?' Brienne murmured to him, dazed.

'No,' Jaime replied. 'Never.'

He had never once believed in any kind of magic or sorcery. He had openly laughed at those who preached about the Lord of Light. And yet now what he was seeing before his very eyes contradicted everything he had stood by.

'It's incredible,' Brienne whispered.

Jaime looked at her, the expression in his eyes softening; the flames shone quite a flattering light on her, and then it hit him. 'I've just realised…is this your first proper battle?' he noted, surprised.

'It is. Pod and I didn't make it in time to join the fight when they took the castle back from Ramsey Bolton,' Brienne replied, and she gave him a dry look. 'Why, do you think I should have tried to practice in some other battle before leaping straight into this one?'

'No. You don't need it,' Jaime reassured her, and she reciprocated his small smile.

'Milady. Look,' Pod then murmured at her other side.

Brienne and Jaime turned; the Dothraki were riding off into the vast unknown that lay before them to greet the Army of the Dead.

The battle had begun.

It was an impressive sight, the horde charging ahead, cheering confidently, with their flaming swords while the catapults began to launch from behind. Jaime and Brienne remained silent this time as they watched. They had liked the comfort of one another's words since lining up on this battlefield, but, whether out of fear or awe, neither of them could find anything to say now that the first move had been made against the White Walkers. Brienne exhaled deeply as the Dothraki finally reached the enemy waiting menacingly ahead in the darkness, her chest puffing out in hope and determination.

But then the Dothraki's roars of courage that had been so encouraging before had suddenly turned to yells of despair.

Neither Brienne, Jaime, Pod or anyone else could see what was happening – the Dothraki were far away now, and all the light that remained in this black night was that of their flaming swords. But the swords were being struck down. They were disappearing before their very eyes, the lights flickering out one by one. Pod let out a shaky breath as the sight before them grew rapidly quieter and darker. He could no longer pretend he wasn't fearful; the moment the White Walkers were done wiping out the Dothraki, they were coming straight for the rest of them.

Jaime and Brienne slowly glanced at each other and exchanged a knowing look of horror. The situation was helpless. They could do nothing but watch the Dothraki get annihilated…and wait for the onslaught.

This is it, they both thought, terrified. The end of the line. We're finished.

All too soon, the attack was done, and it was clear who had won. There was no triumphant roar. There wasn't a single burning sword left in sight. Only a few injured victims remained; they rode back towards the castle in a hurry to get away as quickly as possible, their faces alive with panic and terror.

There was nothing but silence. And darkness. Never-ending darkness.

Jaime and Brienne were both dismayed. The Dothraki horde, once a legendary terrifying story during their childhoods, had been stopped in the blink of an eye and simply vanished before them, as if they had never been there at all. The Army of the Dead had done that. And if Dothraki couldn't stop them, who in this world could?

An inaudible shaky breath escaped Jaime's mouth as he stared with wide eyes ahead of him. He couldn't see the dead bodies of the Dothraki, or the army of White Walkers approaching. But he could hear them. He could sense them. They were coming closer towards Winterfell. It was only matter of minutes, maybe even seconds, until they reached them.

Jaime glanced back at Brienne as she drew out Oathkeeper, the sword that meant so much to both of them. He knew then that it was no use. He couldn't keep it in any longer.

Without looking at her, Jaime let out a deep breath. 'Brienne, there's something I need to tell you-'

'No there isn't,' Brienne cut over him sharply, staring firmly ahead as they awaited the approaching Army of the Dead.

Jaime looked offended, and he rounded on her. 'Excuse me?'

Brienne closed her eyes briefly as she clutched tightly onto her sword, her heart racing. 'I don't want you to say anything you wouldn't say if we didn't have an army of dead men charging at us,' she said, her voice shaking ever so slightly as she kept her gaze fixed determinedly ahead of them.

Jaime's expression softened and the merest shadow of a half-smile appeared on his face as he tilted his head sympathetically at her. 'Understood, my lady,' he said.

They fell silent again, though in the mere seconds it had taken them to exchange a few words, the night seemed to have become less quiet. The White Walkers sounded wild and out of control…almost animalistic. They sounded like monsters. And they sounded extremely close. Brienne so dearly wished she could just see them coming. All that lay before them was mist and frost in the black air. The corpses were practically invisible in this darkness…but they were almost upon them.

She glanced over at Jaime; he was about to reach into his hilt to pull out his own sword. Before he could, she slowly reached out. Brienne hesitated, but then let her gloved fingers brush slightly against his tentatively before she could change her mind. She wanted to feel his touch, even if it was miniscule, before the horror they would be facing so very soon. Jaime closed his eyes as the warmth flooded through him, wanting just for a second to forget what was about to happen. He was glad; he had chosen to stand at this side of her for this very reason. He hadn't wanted to hold her hand with his gold Lannister one. Ever so slowly, Jaime intertwined his fingers with Brienne's, and he squeezed her hand softly.

They had never held hands before. Well, there was a first time for everything. And a last.

Brienne felt a tear well up in her eye. The noise of the oncoming Army of the Dead was only getting louder. She glanced over at Pod; they exchanged a nod. She then turned to Jaime. He was already gazing at her; even in this darkness, she could see that his eyes were slightly wet too. The thunder of the White Walker's running footsteps and blood-curdling shrieks were only getting louder.

She managed a small, sad smile at him. 'It's time,' she whispered.

'Then go on,' Jaime murmured encouragingly, giving her hand another firm squeeze before reluctantly letting go.

Brienne nodded at him and stood slightly to the front as she held her sword up high, ready to give the command. She could almost see their shapes scurrying towards them now. Fear clenched to her heart.

They were here.

'STAND YOUR GROUND!' Brienne roared fiercely, as Jaime crouched slightly and drew up his sword.

And then the dead charged right into them.

They piled on top of them all: terrifying, grotesque corpses that were very much alive and full of energy as they burst out from the black frosty mist and attacked in one huge wave. Brienne moved almost gracefully as she and her soldiers immediately sliced at them with their various dragonglass spears and swords. Jaime was overwhelmed by the sheer force of the charge, and was knocked down to his feet almost at once. Adrenaline coursing through his veins, he struggled up quickly to his feet while bodies – both alive and dead – slammed into him.

It was utter pandemonium. So many had been killed already before they even knew what had happened.

The fighting was eerily quiet on the side of the living, or if there were any yells or cries from the soldiers, they were drowned out by the snarling and hissing and shrieks of the White Walkers.

But that didn't stop Jaime from hearing Brienne's yell of agony that rent through the air.

Stabbing a wight out of his way, he looked up in horror at the sound; a wight seemed to have charged directly into Brienne and knocked her to the ground. She was being buried underneath a tirade of White Walkers, and her blood-curdling scream reminded him of the time years ago when Locke had seized her to be raped. It sent chills down Jaime's spine.

His eyes widened in panic. Not Brienne, no.

Pushing and shoving his way through the armies of dead and living men, Jaime ran instantly to her side and charged at the attacking wights with a roar of determination. He shoved his sword through the backs of the corpses while Brienne continued to yell out in agony, and pulled them desperately off her. He bent down to help her but then felt his breath catch slightly in his throat at the astonishing sight of the dragon that had suddenly appeared in the black sky, breathing ferocious amounts of fire down at the White Walkers as it flew above the battle. Jaime watched the dragon in awe, half-amazed, half-terrified, as his memories of his last battle began to haunt him from the sky. He had to remind himself that he was fighting on the same side as the wretched dragon now.

Brienne had also been stunned into silence as she struggled up to watch the incredible sight of the dragonfire, trying not to wince; the wights had somehow managed to pierce through her armour. She felt ashamed of herself – a minute into the battle, and she was already bleeding.

'Brienne!' Jaime said anxiously, tearing his eyes away from the dragon – who had now also been joined by its brother – and he took both her hands in his and pulled her up to her feet. 'Are you all right?'

'I-I'm fine,' Brienne panted, retrieving her sword from the ground. 'Thank you.'

'Where did it get you?' Jaime asked urgently over the din of the dragons' roars and the wights' assault around them, and his eyes scanned her body fervently for signs of injury.

'It's just a scratch, stop fussing!' Brienne insisted, slapping his hand away.

He did not need telling twice. With a nod he turned to the left to see what could be done with the hundreds of remaining White Walkers that hadn't been obliterated by the dragonfire.

'Pod, MOVE!' Jaime yelled at once, diving forwards to shove Pod out of the way as a wight charged directly at him.

He'd already destroyed the wight before Pod had even realised it was there. Brienne let out a shaky breath and gave Jaime an appreciative nod, before the three of them returned to the fold of the battle with their weapons held high, stabbing and slashing as they went.

The White Walkers were a plague of creatures far worse than what Jaime and Brienne had remembered from the one Jon Snow had introduced to them at the Dragonpit last month. Some of them were rotted away, with barely any flesh left clinging to them. Others were less skeletal and looked to have been dead for merely weeks. But both kinds were equally as horrifying.

All around them was nothing but a whirlwind of violence, chaos and bloodshed. In the mad confusion and darkness, Jaime and Brienne struck out at the wights quickly and ruthlessly, relieved that their Valyrian steel swords managed to cut them down. But then suddenly a fog rolled in, bringing with it a fierce wind that screamed and slashed at their faces as the two dragons struggled against the storm in the sky above. The fog was so dense you could cut a knife through it, and the shadows of the mangled, horrific corpses were only just visible…but visible enough to send fear and panic punching through everyone's insides.

More floods of these monsters continued to swarm forwards ravenously and break their lines, sending some soldiers fleeing for the safety of the castle. Amongst the blizzard of spears and swords and frost and wind, Jaime and Brienne could see nothing through the fog but the snarling, rotting faces of the dead clawing at them.

It was an absolute slaughter.

Ash – or was it snow? – had begun to fall all around them when they heard the frantic shouting of orders to retreat to the castle.

In the chaos, Brienne yelled out to her force: 'FALL BACK!'

She had lost sight of Pod as everyone went piling into the castle, desperate to run as fast as they could into the grounds while the Unsullied remained diligently behind to protect the retreat. Brienne felt the fear surge up inside her, but she knew she couldn't go in search of her squire when she had a job to do. Besides, she had faith that he would be all right; he was a strong fighter, and would most likely just be caught up in the crowd.

Brienne found Jaime slashing through a wight near the castle walls; she grabbed him by the arm and pulled him with her through the open gates.

'Where's Pod?!' he asked her, panicked.

But Brienne didn't answer. 'I need you to take charge of that side,' she said loudly to him over the noise of the screams and shouts, and she pointed to the left of the courtyard within the castle grounds. 'See that everyone gets in the right positions to defend the battlements-'

'What?!' Jaime exclaimed, appalled; he didn't want to leave her side. 'I can't-'

'That's an order, Jaime! You're the only one I trust to take command!' Brienne shouted desperately.

Jaime stared at her for a moment, fuming, then nodded. Brienne nodded back and they gripped one another's arms briefly before hurrying away in the opposite directions to help lead her men to safety. The two of them stood at the other ends of the open gates, encouraging the soldiers in while the trench was lit outside to prevent the dead from following.

'GO! GET IN! GO!' they both shouted urgently.

When Brienne caught sight of Pod, she felt almost like she would crumble with relief. His face was stained with blood and muck, just as hers was, but otherwise he looked unharmed. She grabbed him and checked him over quickly, then let him go.

They'd all barely had time to catch their breath when the shouting began with their new commands merely minutes later.

'MAN THE WALLS!'

Brienne's heart stopped. That could only mean one thing – the Army of the Dead was already breaking through the firelit trench.

Eyes filled with dread as he looked up at the misty, ash-filled sky, Jaime hurried across the courtyard towards the steps. If Brienne wanted him to command this side, then that was what he was going to do – he'd have to change the men's' positions so that they could defend the wall while shooting from above.

Pod was rushing over; Jaime grabbed him by his arm, overcome with relief. 'Come on!' he encouraged, pushing him forward to join the others on top of the battlements. 'COME ON, GO, GO, GO!'

'COME ON!' Brienne shouted to the men on her side, and she glanced over at Jaime to see him doing the same; their eyes met across the courtyard through the fog and ash and chaos, and they both nodded encouragingly at each other before hurrying to the upper levels.

When he reached the top of the battlements, Jaime looked around to quickly assess their situation. 'WE NEED THE ARCHERS!' he shouted urgently.

To his astonishment, he heard a few men repeat his command. Throughout the day, many of these soldiers had been so openly angry about the concept of fighting alongside the Kingslayer, but now that the time had come, they were following his orders.

'ARCHERS ON TOP!'

Jaime couldn't believe it. They were listening to him. They were following him. They no longer cared that he was a Lannister, and it was this, more than anything, that filled Jaime with a huge burst of confidence and pride.

While she commanded from the opposite side of the battlements, Brienne saw briefly as the soldiers on the other side continued to obey Jaime's orders, and she felt a momentary smile flicker on her face; he was experienced in battle, he knew what he was doing, and, most impressively, he was a natural leader. And she was overwhelmingly grateful to have him there.

'DRAW!' Jaime shouted as all the archers assembled across the battlements, waiting for the White Walkers that were slowly but surely making their way up the outer walls of the castle to infiltrate the grounds.

The haunting moonlight reflected the flames of the fire that had been lit up around the trenches so that the sky now looked to be a burnt orange. But even with this change of lighting, it was still almost impossible to see what awaited them; the fog and ash made sure of that. All Jaime and Brienne and their men could do was prepare, their arrows, swords and spears ready to strike at any moment.

But even though they initiated the attack, the storm of arrows did not prevent the dead from clambering over the battlements to join them.

Jaime continuously shoved his sword through the wights' heads or ribcages whenever they appeared, all the while shouting, 'COME ON!' encouragingly at his fellow knights and soldiers. He could hear the reassuring sounds of Brienne's confident, heroic roars as she cut through more of them on the other side of the battlements. Each wight they destroyed seemed to have a different texture to them; sometimes their blades would cut through flesh, other times they would hack into bone. But, whatever their condition, none of them seemed deterred by the men and weapons blocking their way into the castle, and they just kept coming and coming…until eventually they landed on solid ground.

When Brienne heard Jaime cry out through the din, all other noise seemed to block out of her mind as her head jerked up and she stared wide-eyed over at the other side of the battlements across the castle just as more wights clambered onto Jaime, who was struggling to fight them off.

He was in trouble. And Brienne could not have that.

Running to him without thinking, Brienne cut her way across the battlements, slashing her way through the oncoming wights and not caring whether she was pushing living or dead out of her way in order to get to the man whom she had once despised but now loved so dearly. She roared out determinedly as she struck corpse after corpse, smashing one into the balustrade and knocking it down onto the ground of the courtyard below. If she was destroying the structure of the battlement structure, Brienne neither knew nor care; all she knew was that she had to get to Jaime as soon as possible.

When she reached him, he was pinned up against the walls of the battlements, with half a dozen wights on him. The moment Jaime heard her familiar determined roar and strike of her sword, he felt himself relax.

She's here. I'm saved.

Brienne slashed away angrily at the wights on him, and he soon broke free, but there was no time for him to stop and thank her; more of the never-ending dead were already upon them. Jaime and Brienne turned and found themselves fighting together back to back, in perfect synchronisation. The fluidity the two of them had developed with one another had become almost automatic; they looked extraordinary together as they brandished the two halves of Ned Stark's sword to defend Winterfell.

They then turned to face each other in the heat of the battle, half-terrified, half-awestruck, but Jaime was forced to pull his eyes from her face when he saw the wight about to attack her from behind.

'LOOK OUT!' he yelled; Brienne ducked out of the way at once as he lunged forwards and struck the wight, just as another one leapt out of nowhere and slammed into both of them.

Both Jaime and Brienne toppled to the floor and collapsed on top of each other, Jaime making sure to position himself so that he could break their fall.

'Jaime-!' Brienne gasped, but before she could finish her sentence she stabbed her sword through another wight who'd dived down to attack them both on the battlement floor.

Jaime was amazed with himself; he'd never thought, given the chaos of the everlasting stream of animated corpses and bloodshed that surrounded them, that he would find himself flustered in these sorts of circumstances. And yet Brienne lying clumsily on top of him had done just that.

'Are you all right?' he asked her awkwardly, straining slightly under the weight of her armour as she struggled to straighten up.

Brienne was unaware that he was blushing just as much as she was. 'Yes-yes, I-'

But their conversation was cut short as more White Walkers came piling over the top of the battlements. Exchanging a dark look, Brienne and Jaime grabbed one another's free hand and helped each other back to their feet, before they resumed slashing their swords at the enemy. Pod, in the midst of the bedlam of the battle, was completely in awe of Brienne and her devoted male companion as he watched them move as one up on the battlements. She and Jaime were practically a mirror image of each other, constantly watching out for the others' safety as they continued to fight relentlessly against the wights. It was an impressive sight to behold.

Jaime and Brienne had never truly fought alongside in battle together like this until now…although they had come to each other's rescue and fought side-by-side once against a common enemy quite unlike the one they were facing now. An enemy with fur and paws, in fact…

Jaime's horse was exhausted and in need of rest, but Jaime didn't slow down with the reigns. They were almost there now; the great intimidating fortress that he had been so pleased to leave behind this morning loomed before them, and he could already hear that dreaded familiar jeering as he led the charge back to Harrenhal.

He didn't care that he had defied Steelshanks, Roose Bolton's captain in charge of Jaime's safe return to King's Landing, nor that he had paid no attention to Qyburns' advice. Jaime could still hear the strange, eerie man's protests from a few hours ago when they'd turned to ride back still ringing in his ears.

'You're only delaying your return…' Qyburn had said to him incredulously. 'Is she really worth it?'

'Yes. She is.'

When they entered the fortress grounds and rode quickly through into the main yard, they found it deserted. His horse skidded to a halt as Jaime looked around urgently, searching for any sign of where she could be.

'Eyes open, lads-!' Steelshanks began, but Jaime cut over him.

'Be quiet!' Jaime snapped; the jeering had become much louder.

Panic was beginning to settle in now. The jeering had turned into singing; he could recognise the voices of Locke's men easily, even from a distance.

Jaime jumped off his horse with a wince and hurried through the yard towards the sound of the singing, his pace quickening with every step. He knew the song they were singing now. He had heard them sing it many times, ever since they'd been taken hostage. Heart pounding in fear, Jaime ran as fast as he could in his weakened state, terrified that he might already be too late.

'The bear, the bear and the maiden fair

From there to here, from here to there,

All black and brown and covered in hair

He smelled that girl in the summer air

The bear, the bear, and the maiden fair!'

Panting heavily, Jaime climbed unsteadily up the wooden staircase towards the sound; a huge crowd of men dressed in armour were stood around what seemed to be a fighting pit, cheering and singing and applauding as they watched whatever spectacle was occurring down in the pit below. Feeling suddenly rather nauseous, Jaime pushed his way roughly through the cheering men until he reached the front.

His face fell in horror.

Brienne of Tarth had been thrown into the pit…along with a full-grown grizzly bear, three times the size of her. She was still dressed in that horrendous pink gown, and was clutching what appeared to be a plank of wood in defence. Her hair was matted and blood poured from a huge gash just above her chest; even from so far above, Jaime could make out the bear's claw marks that would remain permanently scarred on her neck. And yet, despite this, she wore a fierce expression; her eyes were determined as she stood her ground and pointed the wooden sword directly at the bear. She wasn't going to let herself go down without a fight.

Jaime realised in that moment that Brienne was braver than any man he had ever met.

'Well, this is one shameful fucking performance!' came Locke's familiar voice from the side.

Jaime was too stunned to retaliate. His mouth was still hanging open in shock and dismay, and it felt like his heart had dropped all the way to the pit of his stomach. He still couldn't believe what he was seeing. He feared that if he tried to speak, only vomit would come out.

'Stop running and fight!' Locke shouted down at Brienne in the pit, and Jaime looked around at him in disgust.

Brienne was trying to keep her breathing controlled as she steadily circled around the pit. Her hands shook slightly as she pointed her pitiful weapon at the restless bear. She knew this was the end. There was no hope for her now; all she could do was fight as best as she could. She would not give in, not to someone like Locke…even if it meant dragging out the unpleasant business of being ripped apart by a huge vicious bear.

'A wooden sword?' Jaime said incredulously.

Locke seemed completely unperturbed by Jaime's sudden reappearance at Harrenhal; he turned slyly to face him. 'I thought you'd gone,' he said.

'You gave her a wooden sword!' Jaime said furiously.

Outraged, he shoved one of Locke's cronies out of the way so that he could confront this hideous man. Locke may have taken his hand, but Jaime would not let him take this innocent woman's life. Not today, not ever.

'We've only got one bear,' Locke replied gruffly.

Jaime glared at him. 'I'll pay her bloody ransom. Gold, sapphires, whatever you want – just get her out of there!' he said desperately.

Jaime's escort, who had followed him to the pit from behind, were looking at him in bewilderment. Locke's men surrounding them looked equally confused to see Jaime Lannister plead for his former captor's safety. Only Locke seemed unsurprised by Jaime's attitude.

He shook his head exasperatedly at Jaime, a small smile of amusement on his face as he took a step closer to him. 'All you lords and ladies…still think that the only thing that matters is gold,' he said, and he roughly grabbed Jaime's bandaged stump. 'Well this makes me happier than all your gold ever could' – he then pointed down at Brienne, who was crouching down as she backed away from the bear down in the pit – 'and that makes me happier than all her sapphires. So go buy yourself a golden hand and fuck yourself with it!'

With nothing more to say, Locke then turned his back dismissively on Jaime and rested his hands on the balustrade to re-join his jeering audience in watching the entertainment down below. Jaime stared at him, aghast; Locke truly wanted to just watch Brienne be torn apart right before their very eyes.

A huge enthusiastic cheer then erupted all around him; Jaime looked down into the pit at once and his eyes widened in fear – the bear had stood up on its hind legs and was roaring directly into Brienne's face. Her expression didn't falter as she determinedly reached up to strike it with the wooden sword. But then the bear had grasped the piece of wood with its claw; Brienne struggled against its firm hold and the bear lashed out at her with its other claw and scratched angrily against her face. Brienne cried out in agony, and stumbled backwards as the broken wooden sword fell to the muddy ground and splintered into pieces.

Jaime's mouth opened in horror as he watched. There was nothing she could do now to defend herself. It was a hopeless cause. She was to be defeated and monstrously killed by a bear, at the hands of Locke, and it made Jaime enraged. Brienne had saved him; he knew he couldn't live with himself if he just let her die like this in such a horrible way for someone else's entertainment. He suddenly felt something – was it some long lost strain of loyalty? – surge through him as he stared down at the pit, and he began to move away from Locke and his men, trying to find a gap in the balustrade.

Fear was taking hold in Brienne now as she backed away, the sounds of the men's laughing and cheering for the bear almost deafening. She had no weapon now – not that that stupid plank of wood had really counted as a weapon, but still. She was on her own, injured and tired and defeated. The bear neared to her and scratched at her again with its claw.

'ARGHH! Brienne yelled, as she collapsed to the mucky ground.

A terrified Jaime watched as she lay there in the mud, the top of her arm bleeding profusely along with her neck. The bear growled and moved closer towards her.

Jaime didn't even think about it; he leapt over the balustrade and jumped down into the pit.