Based on events during Episode 3 of GoT Season 8

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

Still on the ground, Brienne jerked her head back at the sound of his feet landing behind her, and she felt her jaw drop.

Jaime Lannister?!

She had been so preoccupied with dealing with the idea that she was going to be mauled to death by a bear, and now she had to deal with the shock of seeing the last person she'd ever thought she would see again.

Jaime was almost as stunned by what he had done as Brienne was; since losing his hand he had struggled to merely mount a horse and cut his food and change his clothes and wipe his arse, but suddenly, now it had come to Brienne's life being on the line, he hadn't even considered the limitations of his only having one hand. He realised however in that moment that his decision that had landed him in here had been more as a show of a solidarity rather than an actual rescue; after all, with only one hand, no weapon, various injuries and his arm in a sling, he was completely useless. For a fleeting moment, Jaime was filled with instant regret at his stupid decision as the bear roared in his face, but then he saw the blood dripping from Brienne's wounds and torn dress, and he regained focus.

'Get behind me,' he said to her, his eyes remaining firmly fixed on the bear as he stepped closer to Brienne.

'I will not!' Brienne said fiercely as she struggled to get up from the ground.

Jaime had to admire the way she refused to drop her pride and honour, even in a situation as bad as this, but he was having none of it. He leant down and pulled her, knocked down and injured, up to her feet and shoved her behind him, despite her shouts of protest. He'd put himself between Brienne and the bear, with no plan and no motivation other than to save her. His goal was not to earn glory or even pay the debt he owed. It was to see her live.

Why am I risking my life for this woman? What's happened to me? Jaime thought to himself, as he stared in horror at the bear facing them.

He crouched in front of her, eyes wide and alert on the beast before them, while Brienne remained at his side, a few steps behind him. The bear began to claw at the ground angrily as it neared towards them. Both Jaime and Brienne gasped out in fear as they backed away, Jaime struggling to move his injured arms out to protect her.

Brienne was almost paralyzed with not just fear but also shock. Jaime Lannister was shielding her with his own body and it was only then when she fully realised that he had jumped in here to try and save her life…even if it meant at the expense of his own.

The bear was making its way steadily closer to the frightened pair, but before it could raise its claw to harm either of them, an arrow then landed in its side, and the bear growled out in pain and halted. Jaime glanced up to see that Steelshanks was stood beside Locke, getting ready to shoot the bear again with his crossbow. Relief flooded through Jaime; the arrows wouldn't stop the bear, but they would distract it, and a distraction was all they needed.

Giving Brienne's arms a brief grab, Jaime then rushed back towards the old timbre wall and looked up desperately at Steelshanks and his assigned men. 'Pull her up!' he shouted urgently.

When he knelt down on the ground, Brienne realised what he was doing. Astonished, she hurried over to him, and saw that Bolton's men who had been charged with taking him back to the capital were already leaning over the wall with their hands held out for her. Brienne clambered onto his back and Jaime boosted her out of the pit; she reached out and Bolton's soldiers pulled her over to safety.

Relieved and yet also terrified, Jaime turned his focus back to the bear, which was getting increasingly angry and restless across the opposite end of the pit. He had left himself behind, with one hand and no weapon, to die for this woman in the most horrible way.

But then he heard Brienne's shout.

'Hold my legs!'

Jaime looked up to see that she was leaning fully over the wall to pull him up, while Steelshanks and his men kept her legs pinned down to stop her from toppling over back into the pit. The sight made his heart soar. Deep down, he knew he could have trusted her to get him out – not just because of her vow, but because he flattered himself believing that she preferred him to be alive rather than dead.

He glanced back towards the bear; it was clawing the ground, looking ready to charge. Eyes widening in horror, Jaime turned and ran at the wall; he clambered up, clinging to the wooden frames as best as he could. When he felt the thump of the bear colliding into the wall below him, Jaime felt his stomach lurch in terror. His feet were dangling helplessly merely inches from the beast's roaring mouth, but he couldn't dwell on that; all he had left to focus on was Brienne, leaning over for him with her hands outstretched in desperation. Wincing and groaning in pain as he struggled to manoeuvre his legs and feet out of the vicious bear's reach, Jaime then took a leap of faith as he reached out for Brienne.

She grabbed his remaining hand with her clammy ones, and both of them let out of groans of agony as they struggled to keep hold of each other.

'Pull me back!' Brienne yelled urgently.

Bolton's men obeyed her at once; they dragged her legs back and reached out to grab Jaime, where together they lifted him up to safety. The moment Jaime had rolled, exhausted, onto the safety of the wooden floor, Brienne let go and got up to her feet to glare at Locke, who was looking at them both with a furious expression on his face. For some reason, despite all he had done, Locke didn't scare her anymore. No one here did. Not now Jaime was with her.

Perhaps he wouldn't have returned and done what he had done just now if Roose Bolton had still been here. But that was no matter – whether or not that would have made a difference, he had still done it. He had rescued her, when Brienne had not been expecting at all to survive today. She had gone into that pit expecting to stay in there until her gruesome death. But Jaime Lannister, the Kingslayer, had saved her from that…and it questioned everything she thought she knew.

Panting heavily as he lay on the floor, Jaime looked up as Locke stepped over to him. A tense silence had fallen around the entire pit as everyone watched.

'The bitch stays,' Locke said firmly.

Jaime struggled up to his feet, beaten and tired and weak as he was, though his expression was that of the fierce commander he had once been.

'I'm taking her to King's Landing,' he said firmly, giving Locke a look of disdain. 'Unless you kill me.'

The tone in his voice indicated that he was not joking, and it wasn't clear who was more shocked by this astounding gesture: Locke or Brienne.

The other day during their uncomfortable dinner with their host, Brienne had been surprised by Jaime insisting to Roose Bolton that she came with him back to the capital. But now she was realising that he had truly meant it. He had come to recover her, at great risk to his own life, from her imprisonment here in this terrible place with these terrible people. And he was going to do just that. He was ensuring her safety, and he wasn't going to leave her. She could rely on that.

Locke's men took threatening steps forward with their hands on their swords, while Locke leered at Jaime. But Jaime was unperturbed and stood his ground, staring back at the man who had taken his sword hand and ruined his life.

'She belongs to me,' Locke said smugly, while Brienne took a few steps closer to Jaime, barely registering the pain from her wounds as she watched the two men closely while they decided her fate. 'Lord Bolton's orders.'

Brienne's nostrils flared as she scowled down at this pitiful man stood before them. She had never hated anyone more than Locke, never, and she stood proudly behind her saviour while Locke confronted them with her shoulders straight and tall, and her head held high. She knew that Jaime wasn't going to let Locke take her from him. No harm would come to her now, she was sure of it.

'What do you think is more important to Lord Bolton? Getting his pet rat a reward or ensuring Tywin Lannister gets his son back alive?' Jaime spat at Locke.

Rain and mud dripped from his long, untidy hair, and dirty rags covered his skeletal, beaten, bruised body, with a sling and bandage covering up his ugly stump. And yet Brienne could see now that he looked more fierce, more impressive, more godly than any other knight or soldier present in this monstrous fortress of broken stone.

The two men stared at each other for a moment. Hatred boiled in every feature of Locke's face as he then turned to glare at Jaime's entourage. Brienne took another step forward; she was prepared to fight for their lives alongside Jaime if Locke and his men made the foolish decision to attack, but something told her they wouldn't do that – it was clear from the stance of Steelshanks and his men that they were backing up Jaime, and no one, not even Locke, would be able to stop them.

Eventually, Locke put his sword back into its sheath, and took a few reluctant steps back from Jaime. He seemed too ashamed to say anything; the fool hated to be beaten, particularly by the man and woman he had enjoyed torturing so relentlessly. A hint of a smile on his face, Jaime turned once more into the pit for one final look at that horrendous bear. When he turned back to face Locke, he looked at him as if he were the most despicable excuse of a human being in the whole world.

'Well…we must be on our way,' Jaime said, and he glanced back at Brienne; even in that ridiculous badly-torn dress she was still terrifically intimidating.

Brienne could only nod at him, her look of disdain for Locke seemingly frozen on her face. She was still too stunned by Jaime's actions to find anything to say.

Jaime took a step forward to lead their departure, away from Locke and Harrenhal for good, but then he hesitated, and a slight smile fell on his face. The chance was too good to miss.

He leant towards Locke. 'Sorry about the sapphires,' he said.

And with that, Jaime Lannister walked away and pushed his way through Locke's cronies so they could leave this nightmare behind them forever. Brienne followed, making sure to cast Locke the filthiest look of repulsion that he deserved as she passed.

Jaime kept his head bent down, feeling Brienne's curious eyes on him as he led the way out of the pit's grounds. The two friends remained silent, both stunned by the full impact of what Jaime's actions today meant.

Brienne couldn't stop looking at him, her frown softer than usual as she tried to understand what had just happened. She could feel every thought and feeling she had ever held for this man begin to shift inside her. He had been free, he had been released from her charge, he had been on his way to King's Landing, the place he had killed someone to get to, the place he had been longing for all this time, the place where his sister and home waited desperately for his return. But he had come back…for her. He had risked his life for her. That was something she had never thought would happen in a million years, but now she felt like she was seeing him in a new light for the first time. She was finally seeing him for who he truly was, for the man he was meant to be. And it felt like an honour for her to witness it.

While his former captor gazed, mesmerized, at him as they made their way towards the wooden staircases that led the way to the yard, Jaime appeared, not embarrassed exactly, but humbled, as he walked on, trying hard not to limp or let the further strain to his arm limit him. Deep down, he felt almost reborn again. He could not fully comprehend what he had done or why he had done it, but could only reason that it had something to do with his bizarre newfound affection and sense of loyalty towards the woman who had once irritated him so much to the point that he'd almost tried to kill her with a sword.

That day on the bridge seemed so long ago now. He had been a different person then, Jaime realised, as he looked back – a crueller person, sillier and arrogant. If there was anything Jaime was glad of from this horrific detour with Locke since that day, it was the change that had befallen him during those weeks. Perhaps he had Brienne to thank for that.

As they reached the staircase, he looked behind to check that Steelshanks and his men were following. It was then when he noticed that Brienne was wincing slightly as she walked; the bear had wounded her more than she was letting on. Without thinking Jaime waited for her and put his one hand on the small of her back as he guided her along. Brienne was shocked by the physical gesture.

'My lady, are you all right?' he asked quietly, concerned, as together they made their way down the stairs.

'I…y-yes, I think so…' Brienne murmured, and she cleared her throat; her voice was hoarse from the amount of yelling and crying out while inside the bear pit.

'Did he defile you? Did any of his men touch you?' His voice shook slightly with anger at the mere thought.

'No.'

'Thank the gods.'

Jaime was surprised to hear himself say those words without a hint of irony. It had been a long time since he had thanked the gods and meant it.

When they reached the yard, the horses were waiting restlessly for them. Even they seemed desperate to leave Harrenhal at the earliest opportunity. Brienne thought Jaime would let go of her the moment they got off the unsteady wooden stairs, but to her bewilderment he kept his hold on her. Part of her wanted to shrug him off and tell him to get away; after all, she was perfectly capable of walking herself. But for some reason she couldn't fathom, she did not.

'As soon as we're out of here, Qyburn, you'll see to Lady Brienne's wounds,' Jaime called over, as he walked Brienne towards his horse.

'Of course, Ser Jaime,' Qyburn replied, frowning curiously over at the pair of them.

'Are you well enough to ride?' Jaime asked Brienne.

'Yes. I think so.'

She often hated being fussed over, but today, right now, Brienne didn't mind that he was being like this. In fact, she quite liked it. It made her feel like embracing her femininity for once, to even perhaps admit that she was indeed hurt and in pain and needed help. After all, she had just been attacked by a bear. She had to make allowances for herself sometimes. Besides – although she hated to admit himself – ever since she had been a little girl she had dreamed of being rescued by a knight in shining armour. And here he was.

'I'm afraid we have a lack of horses,' Jaime said apologetically as he looked around at Bolton's men and their steeds. 'You can share with me for now until we acquire another or…if you'd feel more comfortable with someone else…'

He looked around expectantly at Steelshanks and the others. None of them looked very keen, and Brienne couldn't blame them; after all, she was unsightly and repulsive to all men on her good days, and right now she was drenched in blood and mud.

To her surprise, however, one of the soldiers spoke up. 'There should be room on my horse, my lady, if you'd prefer-'

'No,' Brienne said at once, and she flushed. 'Thank you, ser, but I'll ride with Ser Jaime.' She turned tentatively to him. 'If that's…'

She wasn't sure why she hesitated as she glanced at Jaime, the only one here that she trusted. He had risked sacrificing his own life by guarding her with his body from a bear. How could she doubt anymore that he genuinely cared?

Something that looked like a smile appeared on Jaime's face as he nodded at her. 'Of course,' he said kindly, and he encouraged her forwards, though his eyes ran up and down her ruined pink gown in distaste. 'You may have to ride side-saddle with that dress.'

Brienne stared at him, her nostrils flaring. The mere notion of riding side-saddle while wearing this hideous thing was repugnant to her. She leant down, groaning slightly with pain, and grabbed the skirt of her dress, which she promptly ripped up the side in between her legs. Then she straightened up and tilted her head at him.

There. Now I can ride properly.

Jaime gazed at her for a moment, stunned, and his eyes fell to the huge tear in her dress, where her muddy legs were now on show.

He swallowed slightly and raised his eyebrows at her, impressed. 'Then again, maybe not.'

He held out a hand to help her get up onto the horse; she hesitated, but took it all the same. He clambered on just as ungracefully as she did and sat behind her, where he moved his arms around her waist to grab hold of the reigns with his one hand. Jaime didn't really mind that he was so close to her; after all, they had shared a horse while bound together numerous times during their eventful journey with Locke and his cronies. Back then, Jaime and Brienne had been repulsed by the mere sight and touch of one another, but things were different now. So very different. It made their casual acceptance of the intimacy of their current situation all the more strange.

As he adjusted the reigns, Jaime then noticed that the top of Brienne's arm was still bleeding a considerable amount. Frowning anxiously, Jaime reached around to remove the bandage that had been supporting his stump and arm. He began to rip it in two with his teeth.

'My lord, you shouldn't-!' Qyburn protested from his horse nearby, but Jaime interrupted him.

'You can redress me later,' Jaime said irritably. 'You have enough supplies on you, I trust?'

'I-I do, my lord.'

Jaime passed one of the bandage pieces over to Brienne. 'Hold that on your neck, it'll stop the bleeding for now,' he told her. 'I'll use this for your arm.'

Brienne frowned. 'But what about you-?'

'Just do it. Please.'

Brienne fell silent; she knew there was no point in arguing with him. She folded the bandage piece in two for more support and pressed it firmly against the bear's puncture marks gashed into her neck, while Jaime tried to wrap the other piece of bandage around the top of her arm. Tired of watching him struggle with his one hand, Qyburn then wearily trotted over to them on his own horse to help Jaime finish up.

Once they had done and the bandage was secure, Qyburn rode away slightly as Jaime turned to address his assigned men.

'We'll ride until we're far away from this ghastly place, and then we'll stop so Lady Brienne can get treatment and proper clothes, and some rest,' Jaime said to them all, his voice ringing out commandingly; blinking rapidly, Brienne looked down at his hand and stump wrapped around her as he held the reigns, and felt herself begin to blush.

Steelshanks looked uncomfortable. 'Ser Jaime, Lord Bolton charged us with seeing you to King's Landing as soon as possible,' he said, 'we can't afford any more delays, your father will-'

'I don't care about delays and I don't care how long it takes us to get to King's Landing or what my father will think, do you understand?' Jaime snapped at him, and Brienne's lips parted in shock.

'Yes, my lord,' Steelshanks replied eventually, exchanging a confused look with his fellow soldiers.

Feeling slightly flustered, Jaime then nodded at Steelshanks. 'Then ride on,' he ordered.

Steelshanks led their group out of the fortress grounds, with Jaime and Brienne following closely behind. As they rode out into the hills, Jaime tried to control their horse so that it wouldn't jolt about and cause further injury or pain to Brienne, but it was hard with only one hand on the reigns. Eventually, Brienne abandoned keeping the bandage on her neck in place so that she could help him steady the horse. Their fingers touched occasionally on the reigns, but neither of them flinched away. Indeed, they were secretly grateful for the warmth of each other's presence after the traumatising horrors of the bear pit as they continued to ride.

Brienne could still hardly process the days' events fully in her head. Today she had been forced to play the part of the 'Maiden Fair' in the song Locke's men had sung so mockingly at her, and despite her tough exterior, she did not mind on this one occasion. She was a hopeless romantic at heart, after all, and the man sat behind her on the horse now, his chest warm against her back, his hand steady and comforting as he rode them away to safety, had filled her wish. She couldn't make sense of her tangled web of emotions whirling through her right at this minute, but all she knew was that they unnerved her deeply, and that the merest touch on Jaime's part as they rode suddenly sent her heart and temperature soaring. And that could not be a good thing.

Meanwhile Jaime was still equally as stunned as he recalled the vivid feeling of him leaping into the pit over and over again while they rode on. Not since the Mad King, and not until Brienne, would he have ever done something like that for someone so wholly unrelated to him. And he hadn't done it out of guilt or honour, he knew that now, with Brienne sat securely between his arms on the horse. He had done it for something else…some strange emotion that he didn't recognise. Something real. Something pure.

He wondered if he would ever find out what that was.

~ Present Day ~

The air was filled with more ash and flames than ever as Jaime and Brienne continued to hack away at the relentless White Walkers clawing at them. Once they'd beaten the wights on the battlements back, the two of them grabbed each other and hurried down the stairs to defend the yard, where more fighters were needed.

Bodies scattered the castle grounds, dozens of them lying mutilated in heaps. The intense noises of the men's screams and the wight's screeches, along with the clash of steel and dragonglass, was almost deafening as the butchery continued. Blood pounded in Jaime's ears as he fought bravely on. For years he had been known as one of the greatest swordsmen in the Seven Kingdoms, and yet now he was fighting better than he ever had done before, even without his sword hand, because for the first time in his life, he had something worth fighting for. He wasn't doing it to be the best or to uphold his reputation. He was doing it for Brienne and for the living.

Jaime never left Brienne's side as the battle ploughed on, and the pair found themselves constantly saving one another from the nightmarish corpses…until, at last, there came one blissful moment where the fighting inexplicably stopped and everything was suddenly still and silent. It smelt of sweat and shit and blood and death but for some reason the battle seemed to have halted, and that was all that mattered. It was as if time had frozen around them.

Exhausted and beaten, Jaime turned breathlessly to look around the castle's courtyard, wondering why silence had fallen, with only the eerie howl of the frosty wind to be heard. And then his eyes widened and his mouth fell open in horror as he watched the figures slowly beginning to struggle up to their feet, their eyes a piercing blue.

The dead were rising, the recently-fallen soldiers of Winterfell along with them.

'Jaime…' Brienne whispered from beside him as she watched in dismay. 'Are they…?'

'Yes,' Jaime said heavily.

Terror seared through her. 'We'll never stop them. They'll just keep coming back,' she realised, and she turned to Jaime anxiously and took a few steps towards him. 'Jaime, I…I've always-'

'No, no, no,' Jaime cut over her, panicked, 'don't talk like that, remember?'

'But this is it,' Brienne said hopelessly, indicating the ever-growing Army of the Dead as more and more of their new soldiers slowly got up to their feet. 'This is the end. I don't want to become one of them, I-'

'I won't let you,' Jaime and said firmly, and he gripped her arms fiercely; she grasped him back, desperate to hold on and never let go. 'I promise.'

He hated to see her resolve begin to disintegrate. He couldn't let her be frightened, even if he was, if possible, even more terrified by what they were witnessing. He glanced over her shoulder; there were more White Walkers than ever before; the corpses they had destroyed before, resurrected along with their tragic victims who had until recently been on the side of the living. There were too many of them. Far too many. And there was no way out of this.

Jaime exhaled deeply as he tried desperately not to let his eyes well up. 'Now…we don't have much time before those bastards are steady enough to start moving towards us,' he said, his voice wavering with fear slightly. 'So we have two options: either we…crouch to the ground to stay low and play dead to avoid joining this wretched army of mad corpses…or we fight to the death. What will it be, Ser Brienne?'

Brienne gazed back at him through watery eyes, blood dripping from her messy hair, and her chin quivered. 'I think we both know the answer to that,' she replied.

A sad smile fell on Jaime's face. 'Yes, we do,' he said encouragingly, his voice breaking. 'Together?'

Lips trembling, Brienne gave him a determined nod.

Before she knew what had happened, Jaime had gripped his hand around the back of her neck and pulled her face close to his, where he pressed his lips firmly against her forehead. In that one wonderful moment, Brienne almost forgot about the new White Walkers slowly finding their feet and making their way over towards the remaining defenders of Winterfell. And then all too soon it was over; Jaime leaned away and wiped a single tear off her cheek with his thumb, a sympathetic expression on his bruised and bloody face, before he turned to their left to find the one other person they needed beside them in their final fight.

'Pod, come here,' Jaime called urgently, and the battered squire came hurrying over; Brienne gripped him earnestly, overwhelmingly pleased that he was here. 'Stick with us, you understand?'

'Yes, milord.'

'Good man,' Jaime said, clapping him on the shoulder.

He looked around at Brienne; her tears had been shed, and she'd stopped shaking. The face of the fierce knight he knew and loved was back. The three of them exchanged a determined nod before holding their swords up high above their shoulders, ready for the next attack.

They were outnumbered greatly. But at least they all had each other.

The monstrous corpses, along with the dead bodies that had only just turned cold, were upon them within seconds; Brienne, Jaime and Pod lunged forward as one and hacked their way through the horrifying creatures. The three of them never lost sight of each other, and had each other's backs as more and more wights charged at them.

Men wailed and screamed all around them; Brienne joined in with their roars fiercely, her voice loud and pained as they struggled on. Blood splattered from their gaping wounds and yet Jaime and Brienne kept on fighting, because that was what they did best. Despite all the chaos and bloodshed, they were glorious warriors together, and they would not be beaten. Not until the very bitter end.

As the massacre grew steadily worse and more of the northmen were slaughtered and fell to the ground, Brienne, Jaime and Pod found themselves surrendering their position as the wights backed them into a corner of the courtyard.

'Stay close to him!' Brienne yelled at Jaime, indicating Pod, and Jaime nodded back at her as he sliced through another wight.

The three of them continued to fight side-by-side, backed against the castle wall with Jaime in the middle trying to protect both Brienne and Pod, as what seemed like hundreds of dead men came clobbering at them. Pod was shoved roughly against the wall as a new onslaught of corpses charged at him; confident that Brienne could take care of herself, Jaime went to Pod's side and tried to push the wights away off them both but it was no use. There was no stopping these creatures, not now.

Brienne cried out as a wight jumped on her back and another attacked her chest; the noise emitting from her mouth was terrible. Jaime so desperately wanted to run to her to help pull them off, but he was practically suffocating underneath the weight of all the dead corpses clambering onto him, their skeletal jaws clacking away.

To die beside Brienne would not be a death he deserved, not after everything he had done in his life, but one Jaime gladly accepted. At least they would know that they were dying together, and for one another.

Brienne closed her eyes, thinking of the way Jaime had kissed her forehead, as she continued to slash out at her attackers closing in on them, determined not to let her sword fall. If she'd had the time or capacity to think properly about it amidst all the fighting, she would have become instantly sad in that moment; a part of her had foolishly believed that the three of them would live to see another day. At least she was stood with Jaime and Pod, the two people she cared about most, when facing her death. That was all that really mattered in the end – that they were together.

And then suddenly they felt the White Walkers freeze.

Before they knew what had happened, the wights then toppled down to the ground and crumbled at their feet.

Seconds passed during which Jaime, Brienne and Pod had no idea what was happening. The screaming had stopped, as had the clanging of swords and spears. All that could be heard was the heavy thumping of more bodies collapsing to the ground all across the grounds of Winterfell…the Army of the Dead falling to their final resting place at last.

The three of them simply stayed stood there, stunned, against the back of the castle wall, in disbelief over what had just happened. They had been merely seconds away from being killed. Pod was half-slumped towards the ground, but Jaime's arm beside him helped keep him upright. On Jaime's other side was Brienne, who appeared paralyzed with shock. A firelit torch attached to the hall hung between them, flickering feebly, and they looked out at the tragic scene before them.

The courtyard within Winterfell had turned into a graveyard of the unburied. The dead lay in heaps and the ground was stained with blood and bones. The putrefying stench of it was enough to make anyone nauseous. There was a fracture of something in the distant sky above the castle battlements – was it sunlight? The beginning of dawn gave Jaime a flicker of hope, and it was then when he realised that he could move and speak again, that they no longer had anything to fight. Jaime turned to Pod and squeezed the squire's shoulder for reassurance; groaning in pain, Pod nodded before jerking his head wordlessly in Brienne's direction, urging him to check on her.

His sword clattering to the ground, Jaime leapt over the broken remains of the defeated wights and rushed to Brienne's side. She looked rather dizzy, and barely seemed to register that he was there as he grabbed her arms and shook her.

'Brienne? Brienne?' he said desperately, concern creased in every line of his face.

It took a moment for Brienne's eyes to regain focus and register whose earnest face was before hers.

Jaime. Oh, thank the gods.

'I'm fine,' she replied, panting. 'Are you?'

'You're not,' Jaime said worriedly, cupping her cheeks in his hands as blood trickled down her forehead, 'you're bleeding-'

'I'm fine,' Brienne repeated firmly, stunned by the way he was touching her, but her eyes then suddenly widened in panic. 'Pod? Pod, is he-?'

'He's fine,' Jaime said at once in a gentle tone, as from the other side of the torch on the wall Pod mumbled something incoherent to try and reassure her; Jaime's lips twitched slightly. 'A little tired, maybe.'

Bizarrely, Brienne heard a rare laugh escape her mouth. Jaime felt himself chuckle as well, and then the tears of joy came brimming to their eyes simultaneously as they gazed at each other in wonder. The battle was done. And by some miracle, they'd survived.

Without thinking, Jaime wrapped his arms around Brienne, crushing armour against armour in an uncomfortable hug, and they both groaned slightly in pain. He wished they could remove these stupid bits of metal so that he could hold her properly. She had given him such a fright earlier. Her cry of agony when the White Walkers had her surrounded against the wall had pierced him like a knife to the heart; he'd thought they'd taken her. But here she was, in his embrace. At least the obstacle of their bulky armour didn't seem to bother Brienne that much; she'd dropped her sword and was holding him back desperately, her head resting on his shoulder.

She's all right. She's all right. She's alive. We're both alive. We made it.

When they broke apart, she and Jaime paused, flustered, their arms still around each other. Jaime reached out to stroke her cheek again where it was bleeding; Brienne placed her hand on top of his as she gazed tearfully at him. Breathing deeply as the relief and joy flooded through them both, Jaime leaned forward to rest his forehead against hers, but they had barely touched when Pod came unsteadily over to them, tripping over bones and slipping in a pile of blood as he went.

'Wh-what happened?!' Pod asked them both, dazed.

'The Night King. They must have killed him!' Brienne replied.

'It's over,' Jaime said triumphantly, and they both smiled before holding their arms out for Pod and bringing him in for another fierce, uncomfortable hug, their armour bashing against each other.

While the sun slowly came up, the three of them saw to each other's more pressing wounds and helped tidy each other up before seeing the maester for more urgent treatment later on in the morning. It wasn't long after when everyone who had been hiding down in the crypts tentatively emerged in the courtyard. Many of them were overwhelmed with shock and horror at the sight that met their eyes, and hysterical tears and screams of despair soon filled the castle grounds once more as people came across their loved ones amongst the many piles of the dead. Only Tyrion could momentarily overlook the misery as he crossed the yard as quickly as his short legs could manage so that he could embrace his brother in relief.

'I see you've adopted a new family,' Tyrion noted, once they had released each other, and he indicated Brienne and Pod stood not far from them.

'Yes. I certainly seem to have done,' Jaime said, smiling. 'How were the crypts?'

Tyrion grimaced. 'Not as peaceful as one had hoped, actually…but no matter, a tale for later on once you've got those wounds cleaned up,' he said, looking his brother up and down anxiously.

'Ser Brienne has already helped with some of them.'

'Of course, how splendid of her. And Pod? How is he?' Tyrion asked, as they watched Brienne's loyal and beaten squire walk across the yard to talk to Lady Sansa.

Jaime smiled proudly. 'He fought extremely well.'

'I'm glad,' Tyrion said, and he sighed deeply before smiling up at Jaime again. 'I knew you'd make it.'

'I wouldn't have done if it hadn't been for Brienne,' Jaime said, a tender look on his face.

There was a short pause as Tyrion simply stared at him incredulously. 'When are you going to just get on with it?' he blurted out.

'With what?' Jaime asked with a frown, confused.

Tyrion rolled his eyes exasperatedly. 'You can be such an idiot sometimes, you know, considering you just won a battle against the dead,' he said, and he sighed. 'What I mean is…what are you waiting for?'

Tyrion glanced pointedly over Jaime's shoulder; Jaime followed his gaze to see Brienne, who was shaking hands with Tormund. From the eager leer on his face, he clearly expected congratulations for the amount of wights he'd destroyed. The sight didn't even trouble Jaime; he knew he had nothing to be worried about. He looked back at Tyrion and sighed.

'Is it really that obvious?' he asked defeatedly.

'Plain as the nose on your face,' Tyrion said smugly, and he raised his eyebrows over at Brienne. 'Although not to her, I strongly suspect.'

'Tyrion!' came a shout, before Jaime could reply; it was Jon Snow, drenched in blood, mud and guts and looking exhausted as he asked for the whereabouts of Daenerys and his sisters.

Tyrion soon left to help direct Jon to his Queen and his family, while Jaime traipsed back over to Brienne, who was now sat alone at the bottom of the steps, gazing wearily out at the yard, Oathkeeper lying at her feet. Exhaling heavily, Jaime sat down beside her, and they looked around at the survivors, so many more than they'd expected there to be. But there were still so many dead. It would take them hours and hours to move them all; the piles of bodies were practically like towers.

'We're so lucky to be alive right now,' Brienne murmured. 'I can barely believe it.'

'Nor I,' Jaime said quietly. 'They'll sing songs about this night.'

'I'll get Pod right on it,' Brienne said, and she turned to look at him, her gaze tender. 'Thank you for saving my life. Many times.'

'Thank you for exactly the same,' Jaime said gently.

They both smiled softly at each other, though they turned out to be more like grimaces; both their faces were badly scratched and bruised from the battle, along with their bodies. It would take quite a few days to recover. Jaime opened his mouth to say something, but before he could think of the words, Pod had then appeared beside them.

'Milady? Lady Sansa's requested to see you,' Pod said.

'I'll be there right away,' Brienne said, and she shot Jaime an apologetic glance. 'Forgive me.'

Jaime got up to his feet along with her. 'Not at all. I hope Lady Sansa's all right and I'll see you shortly. Don't forget you need to see a maester!' he called after her as she walked away with Pod.

She turned back to him exasperatedly. 'I will in my own good time!' she replied, her tone irritable and yet also playful, and she turned away and smiled to herself as she walked on.

Jaime smiled as he watched her and Pod go. He'd been wanting to talk to her about what had almost been said between them during the battle, but no matter; there was no rush after all. There would be plenty of time in which he and Brienne could talk…days and weeks and months and possibly years, now they had survived the war against the Army of the Dead.

It was only then when he noticed the smug smirk on Tyrion's face from where he had suddenly reappeared nearby; he and Varys were both watching him with raised eyebrows and a twinkle in their eye. He wasn't sure how long they had been watching him. Rolling his eyes, Jaime turned and walked away to get away from their scrutinizing gaze, though he couldn't help grinning softly to himself as he went.