Based on events during Episode 4 of GoT Season 8

(Also includes flashback based on events between Episodes 4x05-6x07 of GoT)

Brienne sat by the hearth in her chambers, fidgeting anxiously as she waited for the knock on the door that she so dearly hoped would come, all the while Tyrion's words from the meeting earlier ringing in her ears.

'Ser Jaime has chosen to remain here, as a guest of the Lady of Winterfell.'

The sound of such a statement had made Brienne's heart soar in triumph. She distinctly remembered the look she had exchanged with Sansa following Tyrion's words; Sansa's knowing smirk, Brienne's embarrassed but pleased smile as her eyes flickered down to the table. She'd also noticed Tyrion briefly raising his eyebrows at Brienne, his lips twitching slightly for merely half a second, before returning to the task at hand of planning the next battle strategy; perhaps he too was aware of the 'secret' understanding between her and his brother. Not that Brienne fully understood it herself.

To both their disappointment, she and Jaime hadn't been able to meet in private throughout the day; Brienne had been kept busy up until the evening, during which they had eaten together in the hall, but once again surrounded in the company of others, and so had been forced to act normal and composed. They had tried not to exchange glances or brush their arms against each other's while they ate with their friends, but this had grown increasingly hard as the evening had trailed on.

By now, however, it was well into the night and most people had retired to bed. And yet still Brienne waited.

'Do I still have permission to return to your chambers tonight?' Jaime had asked this morning, a teasing smirk on his face.

Perhaps he had changed his mind. Perhaps he had thought back on last night and decided it had been a mistake after all. Perhaps he was embarrassed. Perhaps –

But Brienne's reverie was broken as there came a gentle knock at her door. Her breath catching in her throat, Brienne rose to her feet at once.

'Who is it?' she asked in a wavering voice.

'It is I, Tormund Giantsbane, your one true soulmate, here at last to-'

But Brienne had already flung the door open before he could finish. Jaime stood there with an amused smile on his face. Brienne had pursed her lips in disapproval at his joke, but she didn't fool him; her lips were trembling with the effort of trying (and failing) not to smile.

'Took you long enough,' she muttered, yanking him by his collar.

'My apologies,' Jaime said as she pulled him into her room. 'It took me a while to get away from the hall, I didn't want to arouse any suspicion.'

Their lips found each other the moment she'd closed the door behind them, and for a moment they simply kissed tenderly, their arms around each other. When they leaned apart, both of them were smiling, their bodies relaxed. Neither of them emitted any of the fear or awkwardness they had both felt last night.

'I spoke to Lady Sansa,' Brienne said tentatively.

Jaime smiled. 'I see.'

'She told me what you said,' she murmured, and they gazed at each other. 'You really want to stay here?'

'I do,' Jaime replied, touched by how pleasantly stunned she sounded by this very fact.

'But…you said you hate the North,' Brienne reminded him, with a playful frown.

'It's not so bad,' Jaime said, touching his nose to hers as he smiled warmly at her.

Brienne felt lost for words. He was gazing into her eyes like she was the only woman in the world, like she was an angel meant only for him. It was a look that changed everything.

'So…how long are you going to stay with me?' Brienne asked, slightly breathlessly.

'Until you want me to leave,' Jaime said simply, entwining his arms around her waist.

Brienne hesitated. 'And what if I never want you to leave?' she said, rather nervously, but she soon realised from the warm smile that spread on Jaime's face that she had no need to be nervous when she spoke the words.

'Then it looks like I'll be staying for a very, very long time,' Jaime murmured, gazing tenderly at her, and as he brought her lips to his Brienne knew she was home.

When they broke apart, Brienne led him further into the room. Their fingers intertwined easily, fitting perfectly like they had been made only for each other's. It felt so familiar and so right that it almost made Jaime forget that what they were doing wasn't right. Almost.

'But I've been thinking…' Jaime said worriedly, bringing them both to a halt before they reached the bed.

Brienne frowned, trying not to be too concerned. 'That's never a good sign.'

Jaime smiled weakly. 'I don't think we should keep doing…this.'

He indicated the bed beside them. Brienne felt her heart sink in dismay.

'Oh,' she murmured, her fingers falling from his. 'You…didn't enjoy it last night?'

'No, you misunderstand me…last night was…wonderful,' Jaime said, gripping her hand back in his, and they both laughed softly, blushing. 'Truly wonderful…it made me so happy.'

Brienne frowned. 'But you regret it?'

Jaime shook his head, a lump in his throat; he found this much harder to put into words than he'd expected. 'My only regret is that I took the virginity of an unmarried noble lady while…well, intoxicated.'

At this, Brienne yanked her hand from his irritably. '"Took the virginity". Who was it who made the choice to remove my clothes?' she pointed out, and she sighed. 'Do you really think I care about virtue and marriage and all that nonsense?'

'Well…yes?' Jaime said, eyeing her in confusion.

'Well I don't,' Brienne said shortly. 'I would never have let you in here last night if I did. Do you think me less a woman of honour now because I slept with you?'

'Of course I don't,' Jaime said earnestly. 'But I thought…that sort of thing is…important amongst highborn families like ours, and I ruined-'

'No, don't talk like that,' Brienne interrupted, closing her eyes as she took a few steps away from him. 'Don't make last night something negative that I should look back on with shame.'

'That's the last thing I want!' Jaime said, indignant.

'Then what are you trying to achieve with this conversation?' Brienne demanded. 'It happened, Jaime, and I'm glad it did, and I would not have had it any other way.'

'I only meant…' He trailed off and sighed. 'Years ago, I lost my hand to defend your virtue. I told Locke that he shouldn't besmirch your honour…and I did just that last night.'

'That was completely different, and it makes so angry you could even think to compare those two situations. That night with Locke, I was a hostage and I was about to be raped by a group of vicious men,' Brienne said furiously. 'I didn't want to sleep with them. I didn't have feelings for them. I certainly wasn't serious about them.'

There was a slight pause as Jaime realised what Brienne was trying to say.

'But you're serious about me,' he said, trying to keep his voice and expression calm and collected.

'Yes,' Brienne replied fiercely.

She refused to let her embarrassment and shyness win this time. She was no longer afraid to speak her mind. She was no longer afraid of her feelings. And she had Jaime to thank for that.

'And you're not ashamed to be with me? With me…being a Lannister, and…my reputation?' Jaime asked, her brow creased. 'I'm tainted, you know I am, I have nothing to offer you.'

Brienne sighed sympathetically. 'No, Jaime. I'm not ashamed to be with you, because…there's nothing to be ashamed of,' she said earnestly. 'I wish you could see yourself as the person I know you to be. Besides, if anything, I'm the one who should be anxious about that side of things.'

Jaime frowned, confused. 'Whatever do you mean?'

'Well look at me, and look at you. Even without a shave you're like a bloody god, and then there's me, the famous 'Maid of Tarth' or…'Brienne the Beauty' and…' She trailed off as she gestured herself, tall and awkward and battered and bruised underneath her male-suited garb, and she sighed. 'We couldn't be more mismatched if we tried. I'd understand if you were…embarrassed-'

'Look me in the eye and tell me that you truly believe that to be the case,' Jaime said, almost angrily; he hated that she assumed he would still have such a view of her.

'All right, perhaps not completely embarrassed, but still you can't deny what you said when we first met,' Brienne insisted. 'I may be lucky in my strength and my fighting skills, but certainly not in my looks-'

'You're beautiful.'

Brienne pulled a face at him. 'Oh, shut up!' she snapped irritably.

'I mean it. To me, you're beautiful,' Jaime said, his voice quieter, his tone so soft that it calmed down Brienne's breathing as she looked at him in bewilderment. 'Everything about you is beautiful. Your eyes. How blue they are, the way they sparkle. Your lips, how soft they are. The soft curls in your hair. The dent in your chin, the way it moves when you try not to show your feelings. The crease between your eyebrows whenever you get angry with me. Your gentle hands. Your body…how tall you are, your shape, your incredibly long legs…I would go on in more detail but I fear you'd chastise me for being indecent. And your eyes-'

'You already said about my eyes,' Brienne interrupted quietly, but she was smiling.

'Well they're particularly nice eyes.'

Brienne gazed at him, disbelieving. Was this truly the man she had once held captive all those years ago? She barely recognised him.

Smiling, she turned away; she couldn't cope with the intense smoulder of his eyes. 'You don't have to flatter me, Jaime, you already wooed me long ago.'

'Did I?' Jaime said smugly, smiling at her. 'I'd love to know when that was.'

'I'm not sure, if I'm honest,' Brienne said thoughtfully, 'though I think it was most likely the day at the bear pit. Or perhaps…afterwards…when we were on the road back to King's Landing. Although obviously it was much later when I realised it.'

'Ahh. I hoped it might have been when we had that bath in Harrenhal, and you saw me naked,' Jaime said, nearing towards her. 'I know I was certainly impressed by what I saw.'

'Don't make me blush,' Brienne said, backing away from him with a smirk. 'Besides, you shouldn't be entertaining this topic of conversation if you're refusing to share my bed.'

Jaime chuckled; he liked this newfound confidence in her. 'Brienne, I can't tell you how badly I want you right now. But it's not right,' he said hopelessly. 'You're an unmarried woman of noble birth, and we can't keep this up as a secret forever, when Lady Sansa already knows, and Tyrion and Pod have probably figured it out as well. What is it you suggest, that we court and I move into your chambers like it's no big deal and we carry on sleeping together? It would be a scandal. You'd be living in sin. And I'm not…I'm not worthy of you.'

Brienne rolled her eyes. 'Oh, seven hells, I never took you for being so melodramatic. You can calm down, Jaime,' she said exasperatedly. 'It's my life, it's my choice. I know what I want. The question is, do you?'

'You know I do,' Jaime said, his voice tremoring with passion as he closed the distance between them and took her hands in his. 'I just don't understand why you aren't so…concerned about this whole matter. Your honour means a great deal to you.'

Brienne tilted her head at him, and drew her hand up to brush his hair out of his eyes; he closed his eyes at her gentle touch. Then she unclasped the fastens of his golden hand, and took it off, placing it on the table beside them. Jaime wanted to move his stump away from her, but Brienne kept it firmly there with his other hand, entwined with her own hands.

She sighed. 'Yes, my honour does mean a lot to me. But honour and…the concept of virginity…they're two very different things. You're right, perhaps I did care about my virtue, but not that I kept it until I was married, because I accepted long ago that would never happen for me,' she said. 'I just wanted my…my first time to be…with someone I…someone I cared for deeply, who reciprocated my affections, and someone I was…serious about, someone I saw a future with. That was what I wished, and you granted that for me last night.'

Brienne looked down then, mortified. She didn't know what had come over her. She wasn't behaving properly. She wasn't behaving like herself.

'Forgive me,' she said at once. 'I know it's unladylike to speak so openly of such things, but you know I'm no lady.'

'I know no such thing,' Jaime said, his voice burning with pride as he smiled up at her. 'You are a lady in every sense of the word, and I couldn't be more lucky and more proud and more honoured to know you as I do. But still, I can't do this to you…sneaking around, hiding me in your chambers, taking me to your bed like its improper. I won't do it. At least…not until…we get things settled…'

At this, Brienne backed away and sank into her chair, stunned. 'Settled? Between us, you mean?' she said, dazed, and when he didn't respond, her lips parted in shock. 'Ser Jaime…is this a proposal?'

Jaime's heart skipped a beat. 'Gods, do you really think I'd muck it up this badly?' he said, and they both laughed.

'Well I'd bloody well hope not, you were bad enough last night. At first,' she added hastily, to Jaime's relief. 'Jaime, I don't want you to feel trapped or…honour-bound to be true to me just because of last night. I won't consider spending the rest of my days with someone who's only doing it out of duty.'

'Brienne, if that were ever going to be an issue, I would never have come all this way to Winterfell,' Jaime said. 'I'd already made my choice then.'

'You had?' Brienne asked in a whisper, gazing up at him in disbelief from her chair.

Jaime's lips trembled as he smiled at her. 'I had. But…I want to wait until the moment's right, when the war is over. I've never done romantic relationships well. And I want this to be done properly. I want the chance to…make you happy. So will you wait?' he asked, and Brienne felt her eyes threatening to well up slightly.

'You know I will. I'd wait however many days, months, years you'd ask me to,' Brienne said, rising from her chair and closing the distance between them. 'But…to abstain in the meantime? When we're both here, alive and well, after surviving that battle? Is that really what you want? Abstinence?'

Her tone was dry and sceptical, her expression tantalising, her posture commanding. It took all Jaime had in him not to tear off her clothes in that moment.

'It's the right thing to do,' he said calmly.

'The old Jaime wouldn't have cared about what was right,' Brienne pointed out.

'I'm a different person now.'

Brienne raised her eyebrows. 'Well in this case I don't want you to be.'

A smile crept up on Jaime's face, which did nothing to lesson Brienne's surge of desire. 'You're very stubborn, aren't you?' he said, amused.

'Yes, and so are you, unfortunately,' she muttered, turning away from him bitterly, and Jaime couldn't help chuckling.

'I can't believe we're arguing over whether or not we're going to carry on sleeping together,' he said incredulously.

'Neither can I, it's absolutely ridiculous,' Brienne snapped.

'It is!'

'So just take off your clothes!'

'I won't!' Jaime said, laughing at her infuriated expression.

'You're maddening,' Brienne muttered with a roll of her eyes, and Jaime smirked.

'So are you.'

Brienne sighed exasperatedly at him. 'Jaime…haven't these past few days taught you that the simple joys in life are so much more important than old-fashioned values? Yes, we survived a battle, but there's still a war going on, and who knows what will happen or where it will lead us. Tomorrow isn't promised to anyone. Life's too short not to do what we want and be with the people we love,' Brienne said, and Jaime felt his lips part at the word; she flushed but nevertheless found the courage to continue. 'I know that's bold of me to say and you may want to run a mile…but…for the first time since I knew how I felt about you, I finally feel brave enough to speak my mind and I won't stay silent. My reputation as 'the Maid of Tarth' doesn't matter to me. What people think if they see you and I together doesn't matter to me. For me, all that matters is us…and only us. I didn't realise this until the other day, but…I made my choice a long time ago and…Jaime, you are who I want to be with – and I mean in every way, and yes that includes sharing my bed.'

Jaime chuckled. His eyes were welling up.

'And I think that, bizarrely, you feel the same way about me,' Brienne went on, her voice wavering slightly as she tried not to let her nerves get the better of her. 'And I don't want to let anything hold us back from something that I think could make us…very happy. We've been on the edge of this so many times, Jaime…for years we've been playing this silent game of not knowing what we want and how we feel and where life is taking us and whether the world means to keep forcing us together or apart, and…I don't want to waste any more time now we're finally here, when we could spend it together.'

There was a pause as the two of them simply gazed at each other from across the room, stunned. Neither of them had heard her speak for so long, with such eloquence and such passion. It was the longest speech Brienne had made in her entire life. It had cost her everything she'd had to speak those words, but she knew she'd had to say them.

Swallowing slightly, Brienne then took a deep breath. 'That's my view on the matter, anyway. What about yours? Truly?' she asked, holding her head up high as she gazed over at him.

Jaime merely looked back at her with tear-filled eyes, half a smile already spreading on his parted lips. And then he crossed the room in a few short strides, took her in his arms and kissed her. The moment Jaime's lips touched hers, Brienne felt an overwhelming release of sheer joy, as if she had been holding back from true happiness for so long, and now finally she was letting go.

He backed her against the wall as their mouths and bodies collided in an explosion of out-of-control passion and desire, and Brienne began to hurriedly unlace his breeches and tunic. Clinging to each other as Jaime turned her around and moved her towards the bed, he began to undress her while kissing her mouth and neck hungrily.

'Bloody hell, how many laces do you have?' he muttered incredulously as he tried to undo her tunic with his one hand.

'A lot,' Brienne murmured apologetically against his lips.

She tried to help him remove her clothing, but this only resulted in them both toppling onto the bed and struggling to contain their fits of laughter. They felt like they were both flying on the rarity of such a thing; the two of them laughing like this, in each other's arms, trying to take off one another's clothes, but soon the hysterical laughter disappeared and they crushed their lips together once again while shedding their remaining clothes.

Making love this time was easy, and in no way clumsy or tentative or unsure, as if they had been doing this for years, as if it were natural…just like fighting with each other side-by-side on the battlefield. Brienne gripped the furs beneath her as she relished in the feeling of Jaime's lips smiling against her mouth and her skin, trailing a line down her body as they both lost their minds with bliss. Their bodies wrapped around one another, their souls intertwined, and afterwards all they could do was smile as they rested beside each other in blissful harmony, two hearts beating as one. And Jaime knew that tonight, for the first night in years, he would not be plagued by any nightmares of Aerys or Cersei or Locke or his father or any of it, because he was content at long last – content with the thought of how lucky he was to fall asleep in the arms of the woman he loved.

Castle Black was quite possibly the dreariest, coldest, gloomiest place Brienne had ever set foot in – and that was including Harrenhal. Perhaps it was the glum expressions of the men of the Night's Watch or the bitter freezing temperatures that clouded her judgement, but Brienne didn't feel like they were quite welcome here, regardless of the family connection. The sooner they left, the better.

Over in one corner of the hall, she could see Lady Sansa drinking a bowl of soup with her brother Jon Snow, both of them looking at the other like they could hardly believe they were real, that they were finally reunited as true proud siblings, stronger than ever before. At the other end of the hall, Brienne could see Podrick diligently cleaning both their swords…though that odd red-bearded fellow was near to him, leering over at her from his plate of meat. Disgruntled, Brienne looked down and turned her attention back to the piece of parchment she'd been pouring over for the past hour, possibly even longer.

She swallowed as she read over the words she'd so carefully written.

Dear Jaime,

I hope you are well. I know I ought not to write to you, given the present state of Westeros and the risks involved, but I feel I cannot keep such good news to myself, particularly when it concerns you.

I have found Lady Sansa. She is alive, although I regret to say rather traumatised. She has been through a horrific ordeal courtesy of Roose Bolton's son, Ramsey, and been held hostage at Winterfell. Luckily, however, she was able to escape, and I have pledged my service to her. I also avenged Renly's death while in the North. I know that you more so than anyone will understand how much that means to me.

I wish I could tell you our location and plans, but to do that would risk the safety and welfare of Sansa, and I cannot risk this letter being intercepted by the wrong hands. Please be content with the knowledge that we have sought refuge in a safe place while Sansa recovers. I hope you are also reassured by the fact that your oath to Lady Catelyn remains intact, and I have sworn to keep her safe and remain by her side. This I gladly do in both your name and mine, for our promise to her mother was a joint one.

As I cannot reveal my current location, I do not expect to hear back from you. Instead I must rely on trust and faith that you will receive this letter and be cheered by its contents (even if it is written by your irritating former captor). I confess I have been reminded of you and our time together often through my travels up North, and I pray to the gods that you are well in these troubled times, and that King's Landing has not been treating you and your family too unjustly.

I hope we meet again, for, as much as I hate to admit it, I have missed your company, Jaime.

Yours,

Brienne

Brienne put down her quill, realising too late that she had not written 'Ser' before Jaime. Nevertheless, she sealed the scroll. She then sighed heavily; it was wishful thinking to assume that Jaime would be concerned about her and Sansa's welfare, that he had spent these past couple of years since they had parted wondering where Brienne could be or how she was. But Brienne couldn't help it. It was nice to pretend that he thought of her just as much as she thought of him.

In the initial months that had passed since her reluctant departure from King's Landing, Brienne had remained haunted by the look in Jaime's wet eyes as he'd gazed sorrowfully after her as she'd ridden away from the capital, a visible lump in his throat. Her exasperation with Pod and determination to find Lady Sansa had distracted her from dwelling on this heartbreaking mental image for too long, but no matter how hard she tried she found herself unable to stop casting her mind back to Jaime on a daily basis. Every time she washed, her thoughts would turn, unbidden, to that intimate bathtub in Harrenhal. Even whenever Pod simply helped her into her armour and buckled the decorated sword belt across her hips, she thought of Jaime, as well as whenever she wielded the sword she had named for him.

On closer inspection of the new sword and suit of blue-tinted armour that Jaime had gifted her, Brienne had discovered that Oathkeeper's belt was studded with sun bursts and lion heads, and that each leather square on the chainmail was an embossed sun. Jaime had combined the sigils and colours of both Houses Lannister and Tarth in designing this splendid piece of armour specifically for her. Not only that, the armour was beautifully fitted to go with her shape; a lot more comfortable than the huge, bulky man's armour she had worn whilst she had served Renly. It made her proud, and also rather touched, to wear it every day.

It took a while for Brienne to connect with the squire Jaime had given her, but once they had bonded, Brienne knew that their friendship and loyalty to each other would be irreversible. Podrick was a kind, brave young man devoted to his duty and who never once judged her for the many qualities other men mocked her so maliciously for. He was even there for her in her most vulnerable moments. After they'd first found Sansa, but she'd refused Brienne's protection, Brienne had been left rather dismayed, having felt like she'd failed not just Lady Catelyn, but also Jaime. But Pod had been there for her, to comfort and support her, just as she knew Jaime would have done, and with a little encouragement from him, they'd set back on their way to try again with the unfortunate eldest daughter of the late Lady Catelyn.

And then Brienne had found Sansa again, and this time, Sansa had gladly taken Brienne into her service.

Brienne knew she ought to feel over the moon with joy and triumph right now, even all these weeks later since rescuing Sansa from the clutches of Ramsey Bolton's evil hounds and soldiers, but for some reason she couldn't help feeling a little downcast. She wanted Jaime to be here, to celebrate with her the success of their joint mission. But alas, it was never to be. And he would never even know that she had succeeded.

She knew deep down that she could never send the sealed scroll clutched in her hands. The risk of the letter being seen by someone other than Jaime was far too great. It could put both him and Sansa in grave danger. And Brienne couldn't have that.

'Are you all right, milady?'

Brienne looked up, blinking, to see that Pod was stood hovering by her table. 'Yes, of course,' she replied.

He gave her a tentative smile. 'Oathkeeper's looking particularly majestic, if I say so myself,' he said, handing over the newly-cleaned sword.

Brienne nodded gratefully as she took her beloved sword from him. 'Thank you, Pod. You've done a wonderful job, as always,' she said; Pod smiled and glanced over at Sansa at the other end of the hall, as if hoping she'd heard.

'May I ask what you're doing?' Pod asked curiously.

'I was writing a letter to Ser Jaime Lannister,' Brienne replied, sighing heavily. 'Huge mistake.'

Pod frowned, confused. 'Why so, milady?'

'Because I can't ever send it,' Brienne explained miserably. 'The raven could be shot down by an arrow. Cersei could read it. It would put both Ser Jaime and Lady Sansa in danger.'

'But you knew this before you started writing, milady,' Pod pointed out.

'I know. It was just nice to pretend, even for a short while,' Brienne murmured, a hint of a sad smile flickering momentarily on her face. 'I just wish I could let him know that you and I succeeded. That we found her. Not that he would care, probably.'

'He would care, milady,' Pod said reprovingly. 'It was his quest as much as yours, from what you've told me.'

'I suppose.'

'May I ask how you came to be in the Kingslayer's service, milady?' Pod asked, interested, as he sat down on the bench opposite her.

'Jaime, not Kingslayer. And I was never in his service, I was his captor,' Brienne corrected him. 'Lady Sansa's late mother charged me with releasing him from King Robb's camp and seeing him safely to King's Landing in exchange for Sansa and Arya.'

Pod raised his eyebrows. 'That must have been an interesting journey.'

'Oh, you have no idea,' Brienne said, almost fondly. 'I'll tell you about it someday if you like, when we have more free time.'

'I'd like that very much, milady,' he said, smiling. 'I'm very intrigued to find out how you became friends in King's Landing. Unless…I was wrong about that?'

Brienne's lips parted slightly, her expression faltering. 'No. You weren't wrong,' she murmured eventually, as she held onto the letter in her hands. 'Ser Jaime was my one friend in the capital, and…perhaps I his as well. At the time anyway.'

'Do you think you'll see him again?' Pod asked.

'I'm not sure,' Brienne replied thoughtfully. 'We're fighting on opposite sides of the war now that I'm sworn to Lady Sansa.'

'But he knew that would be the case, once you found Lady Sansa.'

Brienne looked doubtful. 'In truth, I'm not sure if he thought I would ever succeed in finding Lady Sansa.'

'Maybe not,' Pod said, shrugging. 'He just wanted to get you out of the capital.'

Brienne scoffed. 'I'd no doubt become a nuisance.'

'No, milady,' Pod said softly, 'I only meant that…well, he wanted you out of King's Landing to protect you, that's all.'

Brienne gave him a questioning look.

'Well, you must have been important to him. He told me to watch out for you, to guard you with my life if need be,' Pod said, as if he had no idea of the impact his words would have on her.

'Really?' Brienne said, her voice breaking; she cleared her throat, mortified.

'Yes, milady,' Pod promised, and he smiled gently at her. 'I could tell from the way he spoke of you when he recruited me that you meant a great deal to him, if you don't mind me saying so.'

'N-no, I don't mind,' Brienne said quietly, rather stunned.

'Perhaps you'll meet again, under…happier circumstances,' Pod suggested hopefully.

Brienne tilted her head at him, touched. 'I admire your optimism, Pod. I'd like to think you're right,' she said, though she didn't believe for one second that he was.

Speaking of Jaime like this only made Brienne long for his presence even more than usual. She so dearly wished that he were with her. But then again, when didn't she? She thought of him when she was awake and dreamt of him when she was asleep, always praying for his welfare and for a reunion that she knew would never come.

It took her every bit of effort to tell Pod to do what she knew must be done.

'When you can, please dispose of this,' Brienne muttered, looking away as she handed him the sealed scroll across the table.

'Milady, are you sure?' Pod said doubtfully, as he took the letter from her.

'I can't risk sending it, Pod, you know I can't. Burn it,' Brienne said firmly, and with that she rose from the table and left to cross the hall towards Sansa.

Pod watched her go sadly, and with a heavy heart walked over towards the hearth. The fire burned proudly, the flames flickering as if they already sensed the presence of the scroll in Pod's hands. Pod glanced down at the scroll as he held it out, ready to drop it into the flames, the small piece of Brienne's heart, the piece of parchment that had made her smile just for a fraction of a second as she'd written her last sentence. He turned around; Brienne was deep in conversation with Lady Sansa and her brother. Taking a deep breath, Pod then walked away from the fire, pocketing Brienne's letter as he went.

~ Present Day ~

When Brienne woke, her muscles were sore, her lips numb. Her eyes slowly flickered open to see Jaime's face opposite hers on the pillow, wearing a tender gaze as he smiled at her.

Brienne groaned. 'Please don't tell me you've been looking at me all this time,' she muttered as she stretched under the fur covers; she could only imagine how ghastly she must look while asleep.

'Only for a few minutes,' Jaime said softly, chuckling. 'How did you sleep?'

'Very well, thank you. How about you?'

'Very well,' Jaime replied, and he reached out to stroke her cheek. 'Brienne.'

'Yes?' she murmured.

'I feel the same,' he whispered.

She realised then that he was answering the question she had put to him just before he'd crushed his lips to hers last night. Smiling, Brienne leaned in to kiss him, blissful in the knowledge that she had never felt happier, and henceforth their 'secret' courtship began.

Jaime knew that Lady Sansa had only let him stay here as a glorified hostage should things take a turn for the worst in King's Landing, not to mention that she was happy for Brienne to enjoy a good time while she could, and yet he couldn't help parading around Winterfell with a bounce in his step as the days slowly passed. He had turned over a new leaf and committed to his decision in not giving in to temptation and riding back to the capital; that was something he knew he ought to be proud of in his efforts to try and become a good man, if such a thing were possible. And that wasn't even mentioning his main reason for staying here – Brienne of Tarth, the woman who had saved him in so many different ways, the woman he owed everything to. The woman he loved, and who loved him back.

He could vividly remember that day at the Dragonpit in King's Landing. Just seeing Brienne there, sat under the canopy and glancing uneasily between him and his sister, had made Jaime question every life choice that had led him to that point. And he was overwhelmingly grateful for it. Without Brienne's presence there, he might not have realised the extent to which Cersei had fallen. Without Brienne there, he might never have come to Winterfell to fight for the living alongside her. And then he would never have known what it was like to feel the sheer joy he was experiencing now.

They avoided talking of King's Landing and the battle strategies being discussed for Daenerys' upcoming journey to the capital. They avoided talking of Cersei, having reached an unspoken agreement that it would be best not to mention her name. They both knew that they would have to discuss the issue at some point, but it was a conversation neither of them knew how to begin and things were so good and happy and stable between them now – why risk unsettling that, when Jaime had come so far? His life had led right to Brienne's side and he was determined to never look back. After all, he loved her and he truly wanted this.

It turned out to be surprisingly easy to steer well clear of the rather large elephant in the room; after all, there was much to do to occupy them at Winterfell. The castle needed repairing and cleaning of all broken debris left from the battle, and the traumatised villagers of winter town urgently needed food, firewood and various other supplies replenishing. Jaime assisted Brienne and her men with setting about these tasks, but it was hard for the two of them to focus when they worked around each other, exchanging the briefest of glances and touches while hoping no one saw. Brienne, in particularly, found her concentration wavering constantly throughout the day; her thoughts kept thinking to each night that awaited her, anticipating the smouldering look in Jaime's eyes whenever the door shut behind them, the way he undressed her, the feel of his skin on hers, his fingertips and lips tracing every inch of her body, the loving tender words he murmured in her ear as she fell asleep in his arms.

In merely the space of a few days, she had grown quickly accustomed to the warmth and weight of his presence beside her underneath the cosy fur covers of her bed. No, their bed now. His touch, his gaze, his lips on hers, were all familiar to her now…familiar and exciting and wonderful. And with each night that passed, Brienne began to grow more comfortable with herself…and even more confident with her own prowess.

'It's just like riding a horse, it'll come naturally to you,' Jaime had said encouragingly the other evening, with a wicked grin and teasing glint in his eyes, after which she had told him to piss off before holding him down and straddling him.

Neither of them could quite believe that, after all that had happened, they were finally happy. A few days ago, they had been fighting off a tidal wave of corpses. Now they were free. Now they were together at last. It felt too good to be true. Jaime in particular felt as if he were living someone else's life. He must have done something good, something worthy that stood out amongst all the wicked, miserable deeds of his past, to make him deserve the love of this wonderful woman at his side.

Although they most enjoyed their time when it was spent together in the warmth of their bedchamber, hidden away from the curious eyes of all those residing at Winterfell, Jaime and Brienne did continue to join the company of their friends when they could. They were particularly determined not to leave out Pod, nor to neglect Tyrion in his final days here before he travelled south along with the rest of Daenerys' force. Mealtimes in the great hall were often when they all reconvened as a group, a large number of them sat together on the long table and both Jaime and Brienne feeling like they belonged, like they were wanted and included there. As they all talked and laughed together, Jaime and Brienne would occasionally stop just to smile at one another, both lost in each other's eyes. It didn't matter that they were sat too close to be purely 'just' allies. It didn't matter that smallfolk and soldiers alike judged them to be behaving improperly. None of it mattered anymore. All Brienne cared about was that Jaime was here, right beside her wherever they went in these grounds, and that they were no longer hiding away from something so strong that lay deep between them. They were free from that.

And yet they could never be quite free from the suspicions of those who saw them together.

Ser Davos was helping himself to some food over their breakfast one morning when he noticed Lady Brienne step over to Ser Jaime, as if quite unaware of their inappropriate proximity, to brush off some mud that had dried onto his leather jerkin from their hard work of labouring out in the fields yesterday. He watched as Jaime laughed and caught her hand with his own. Davos's lips parted in shock; they weren't even wearing gloves! Swallowing, Davos looked away from the pair huddled away in the corner and headed back to the table with his plate of food.

'Did you see that?' he said urgently as he joined the others.

'See what?' Tyrion asked, as Varys peered around curiously.

'Lady Bri– sorry, Ser Brienne with your brother,' Davos replied, looking uneasy. 'She just brushed down his jerkin.'

'Seven hells, what are we to make of such a scandal?!' Tyrion said in mock horror.

Raising his eyebrows sceptically, Davos turned his attention instead to his food. Tyrion glanced anxiously over the onion knight's shoulder, and he rolled his eyes at the sight of Jaime and Brienne stood over in the corner of the hall, laughing together and taking their time to gather their food, making no effort to hide the fact that their arms were touching as they did so. Tyrion's lips twitched.

Varys leaned forward to speak in a low voice to Tyrion. 'He has a point, you know. It is a scandal if the implication of such an intimate gesture is indeed true. After all, the Maid of Tarth is not exactly famed for her open-heartedness and displays of physical affection,' he said slyly, glancing pointedly over at Jaime and Brienne.

Tyrion gave him a disapproving look. 'They are close companions, that is all. Friends.'

'Yes, so I see, they're quite inseparable,' Varys said thoughtfully. 'Even at night, and in the early hours of the morning, so I gather.'

'Oh really, Varys,' Tyrion snapped, glancing around anxiously to make sure no one else had heard. 'You have your little birds spying on people here? In Winterfell?'

'I have them everywhere, surely you know that. But this time, as a matter of fact, this fact does not come from my little birds.'

'Then where, dare I ask?' Tyrion said warily.

'Intuition. Basic common sense. My sight. Take your pick,' Varys said coolly.

Tyrion sighed heavily. 'Do you think everyone knows?'

'Well they will soon if they keep on the way they are. Have neither of them ever learnt the art of subtlety?' Varys asked wearily, watching Jaime and Brienne as they made their way towards the table; the constant looking and touching from the past few days had been driving Varys mad.

'Relax, please,' Tyrion said, sighing. 'Until now, my brother has only ever known a secret toxic so-called 'love' that filled him with guilt and that he had to keep behind locked doors all his life, and I strongly suspect Ser Brienne has never experienced any normal romantic relationship before either. They're happy. Why should they hide it? Surely the White Walkers and the war have changed people's opinions on such trivial matters like tradition.'

'Ah, if only that were true,' Varys said wistfully. 'I must say it's refreshing, to have something to preoccupy myself with other than worrying about our Queen.'

Tyrion swallowed as he turned his attention back to his food. 'Let's not discuss that right now,' he said uncomfortably, as Jaime and Brienne sat down on the bench opposite them.

'Good morning,' Jaime greeted cheerfully.

'You seem very…bright this morning,' Tyrion noted, raising his eyebrows at Jaime with a look that clearly said: be careful.

But Jaime barely noticed. 'I've been sleeping well recently, that's all,' he said, smiling. 'Not a sensation I'm familiar with.'

He glanced over at Brienne, wearing the softest smile and most tender gaze that he reserved only for her. Tyrion felt almost choked up to see his brother like this. It was so new and familiar, but a welcome change.

He's so happy, Tyrion realised.

'No. I'm sure there are quite a few sensations you've not been familiar with until recently, Ser Jaime,' Varys then said, making both Jaime and Brienne freeze.

'Anyway,' Tyrion said pointedly, and he called over to Pod sat on Ser Davos's other side. 'Pod, my good man, are you helping Sers Jaime and Brienne in the courtyard today?'

'I am, milord,' Pod replied enthusiastically.

'Very good. Lady Sansa will be most impressed by your efforts,' Tyrion said, trying to sound encouraging. 'The castle's already starting to look as if it were never encountered by dead men.'

Jaime smiled; the mention of the Army of the Dead barely made him shudder with fright anymore. He knew Brienne was still quite traumatised by the memory of the onslaught of corpses attacking them, as she and everyone else under this roof had every right to be, but he'd encouraged her to speak to him about it, and he sensed a small improvement in her since she had obliged. She no longer froze in fear outside in the courtyard or the fields or up on the battlements, anyway. And she took his hand whenever she felt the panic begin to seep in as the vivid mental images of the wights threatened to engulf her.

He glanced down at her hands now resting close to his on the table as she picked up her knife and fork…those gentle hands that had pulled on his hair so passionately last night as he'd pleasured her…

'Sansa did mention how the work you've achieved in the castle grounds would never have been done so quickly without Ser Brienne commanding the force,' Tyrion went on, flashing a grateful smile over at Brienne; he'd been acting particularly nice towards her since his drunken comment about her virginity at the feast a few nights ago. 'I'm sure many here are grateful for your influence, my lady.'

'Yes, well it has been a great privilege to serve under Ser Brienne's command. More so than I imagined,' Jaime said, his lips twitching; he knew that would infuriate her.

He spat out some of his drink as Brienne reached out her leg to the side and kicked him roughly under the table.

Tyrion and Varys both stared at him, infuriated, as if to say, 'are you mad?', while Pod and Ser Davos merely looked confused. Jaime swallowed, embarrassed by his recklessness, but as Tyrion tried to change the subject by talking to Pod, Jaime glanced sideways at Brienne and saw that she was pressing her lips together in a failed attempt to stop herself from smiling at his comment. Jaime grinned as he took a sip of his drink and returned to his breakfast, unaware of Varys's watchful eyes on them both; as long as Brienne was smiling, all was right with the world.

Later that day found Jaime, Brienne and Pod working outside in the courtyard together, clearing away fallen masonry as they tried to start restoring the yard to its former state. A few other people were out helping, some of whom nodded their heads respectfully at Jaime as they worked together, others who spat on the ground and stormed away as far as they could, clearly too proud to be seen to be stood close to the notorious Kingslayer. Jaime didn't care; he was too preoccupied telling Brienne all about everything that had happened since he had sent her away from King's Landing to find Sansa. They had spent these past few days catching up on everything they had missed in each other's lives since they had parted ways years ago. Yesterday, in the secluded comforts of their bedchambers, Jaime had told a deeply-saddened Brienne of the deaths of both his remaining children, Tommen and Myrcella, which had led both of them to tears and for Jaime to fall asleep against Brienne's chest, using her shoulder as a pillow as he relaxed in the comfort of her secure, safe arms. Today, Jaime had finally reached the tale of the Battle of the Goldroad. As he'd predicted (and somewhat dreaded), Brienne was absolutely horrified when he told her that he'd charged at Drogon while Daenerys had attacked his army.

'I can't believe you'd be so stupid to try and kill a bloody dragon just like that!' Brienne said, maddened, and she sighed as she put down her shovel and sat down on the nearby stone bench for a break. 'So you owe Bronn your life.'

'I owe Bronn a great deal of money and a castle,' Jaime said, rolling his eyes as he sat down beside her. 'I owe you my life.'

'Me?' Brienne said, raising her eyebrows at him. 'How do you work that out?'

'You told me not to give up after I lost my hand,' Jaime said simply, and Brienne frowned.

'That was years ago-'

'But still, you saved me,' Jaime insisted, and Pod looked up from nearby as he worked, curious to hear what Jaime had to say. 'I was ready for the end. I wanted it to end. I couldn't keep going, I just wanted to die. But you changed that.'

Brienne tilted her head at him sceptically. 'You didn't even like me back then.'

'Yes, I did. Deep down. All right, very deep down,' Jaime admitted, and Brienne chuckled as she bent down to the ground and threw a chunk of snow up at him.

As they fought with the snow and laughed, Jaime couldn't help wishing that he could find some way to make her understand just how much he meant what he'd just said. The moment Locke had chopped off Jaime's sword hand, Jaime had crumbled into nothing more than a million broken pieces, having given up on life and himself. But Brienne had rescued him from his suicidal thoughts. She had brought him back into the world of the living, and he owed everything to her for that. He wondered if that was when he had started loving her, deep down. She had made him better, she had made him care, and she had given him a love to hold onto. He could only hope that he would find the strength to never let go and fall back into the abyss of despair and toxicity that followed him wherever his dreaded sister went.

It was only when Pod cleared his throat pointedly as Jaime and Brienne wrestled in the snow like two lovestruck, playful teenagers that they remembered there were other people present in the courtyard, watching them bewilderedly as they came to a halt, mortified. It was then when Jaime glanced at Brienne and gave her a knowing look.

'Brienne…you know what we talked of last night?' he murmured. 'Do you think…now would be a good time?'

Brienne looked over at Pod then back at Jaime, smiling nervously. 'Only if you're sure you don't mind.'

'Mind? I want him to know. Truly,' he reassured her, and he gave her hand a squeeze.

Nodding at him, Brienne then watched with a smile on her face as Jaime walked over to Pod and asked if they could have a private word. Curious, Pod came over to them and the three found space under some shelter in the corner of the courtyard, away from prying eyes and nosy ears.

Brienne took a deep breath. 'Pod, there's something we'd like you to know,' she began.

'Oh? Is everything all right, milady?' Pod asked urgently.

'It is. It's more than all right,' Brienne replied at once, smiling. 'You see, Ser Jaime and I are…'

She trailed off and looked at Jaime; how could she put it? Did such words exist to describe what they had found with each other?

Jaime smiled back at her, and then turned to Pod. 'We are…together,' he said firmly.

Pod frowned at him; he didn't seem to quite understand. 'Together, milord?'

Jaime gave Brienne a sideways look. 'Involved. Courting,' he clarified.

Pod was still looking at them blankly.

Rolling his eyes, Jaime reached for Brienne's hand and took it, intertwining her fingers with us. Pod stared at their hands for a moment, and then it dawned on him.

'Oh!' Pod said delightfully, his face breaking out into a beam. 'That's wonderful, milady! Milord!'

'We wanted you to know,' Brienne said warmly, touched by his response.

'But it's a secret for now to everyone else, other than Lady Sansa,' Jaime said hastily, but then he grimaced. 'And…quite possibly my brother.'

He shot an apologetic glance at Brienne; he hadn't sought out time with Tyrion alone since the night of the feast to discuss it, but he could tell just from the knowing glint in Tyrion's eyes and teasing twitch of his lips that Tyrion knew exactly what was going on. After all, how could he not, when he had contributed in its fruition?

'Your secret's safe with me,' Pod reassured them, and he smiled joyfully at the two knights he looked up to the most. 'I really am so very happy for you both.'

Jaime clapped him on the shoulder and exchanged a warm smile with Brienne before she embraced her squire with the fiercest hug yet. Pod's opinion on her relationship with Jaime mattered to Brienne more than anyone else's, even Sansa's; to have his approval meant everything to her, and just as much to Jaime. Jaime had been secretly worried that Pod would cast him aside, that his protective instincts would set in and he would tell him to leave Brienne alone and stay away; after all, he cared for Brienne very much – she was practically both his mother and his trainer. But for some inexplicable reason Pod seemed to have accepted Jaime for who he was, and seemed even fond of him ever since their deep conversations after the battle. Already, Brienne's influence was turning Jaime more into a better man in the eyes of people like Pod.

As Pod continued to beam up at Jaime and shake his hand in congratulations for winning the heart and affection of such an admirable, wonderful woman, Jaime found himself reassured that the shadows of his dark past would continue to fade over time with Brienne here remaining beside him. And one day the only memories that would consume him in his dreams would be those of happier times, of him and Tyrion playing together as young children, of his triumphs at tourneys, of his journey from Harrenhal to King's Landing with Brienne, of their time together spent at the capital, of that one blissful moment of truth with Myrcella. And he was sure of this because, suddenly, his life didn't seem such a waste to him now. The world didn't seem as cruel and ghastly, nor did the people. And it was all because of Brienne of Tarth.