It was a relatively easy thing for Jamie and Brienne to follow the change-of-guard back to their main camp; the snow had thinned so tracks were easily sighted and the woods warmed enough for them to keep a steady pace without ripping lung-fulls of dagger-cold air into their lungs…
Though with the warmth came the stronger and stronger scent of hog on the wind.
Jamie had managed to get by on months of gruel and dirty water during his captivity… but the meagre serving of bread they had brought north of the wall was now frozen and tasteless… and the slightest breath of bacon in the wind was enough to start him salivating.
Brienne stopped them in the tree-line before it opened out into a clearing of over a hundred tents…
Surely Stannis had not been able to muster such a force with the small amount of gold he had left in the family vaults…
But then there was that Bravosi armor… it couldn't all be from the iron bank, could it? If so, the bank was switching allegiance. What did that mean for the crown? For his father? For Tommen? And Cersie?
To Jamies surprise, the thought of his sister wasn't a welcome one.
There had been years when simply calling up the image of her face would bathe him entirely in such warmth and radiance… but now her name was stacked up beside his father and son… they shared equal parts of his heart, along with Tyrion, Marcella and Joff…
Curious.
And so, in testing himself, Jamie looked to his side to see his wife…
Brienne was keeping low, out of view of the camp, her jaw set with determination and her eyes sparkling with purpose.
She was at his shoulder, right beside him… Brienne had never been on a pedestal he could not reach. She was always where he needed her to be, a partner and soul-mate.
There she shone; and he was instantly enthralled.
He wondered on his children, whom he loved and yet had never been allowed to father in a true sense… each of them thought on him as no more than a doting uncle. They were all raised to be praised and, in truth, were not how he had imagined his children might be.
As much as he cared for them, he knew he could never claim them.
Perhaps his new family with Brienne would be more the way he had imagined before that first night of passion he had spent with his sister had led him away from the future he always imagined he would have; the life of a knight of the realm… a wife and children awaiting his return from quest and battle and tourney.
Again, Jamie looked to Brienne… perhaps a Septa could care for the children while he and his lady attended tourneys… battles and quests would have to be considered carefully.
"Movement," Brienne whispered urgently, bringing Jamie back into the moment.
He looked out and saw the gathering of fighters as they slapped each other's arms and backs for attention and beckoned into the centre of the camp.
"We need to get closer," his wife informed him.
Feeling his eyes roll, Jamie smiled, "Gods save me from women's curiosity…"
She shoot him a look and he surrendered, gesturing for her to lead the way.
Carefully, slowly, they crept through the clearing until the canvas labyrinth gave way to cold, hard ground and the backs of gathered sell-swords and nights, huddled in a space outlined in Stannis' colours and flags…
Jamie felt his heart pounding in his chest. All it would take to catch them now was for a late arrival to happen upon them or a disinterested soldier to turn…
Strangely, none of them did.
Brienne shouldered him and nodded his attention over to the grand, piqued tent topped with flags as guardsmen emerged, followed by the would-be-king himself.
His wife went rigid with focus… his hand on her arm calmed her, but she remained deathly still.
Others emerged from the Kings tent, a lithe woman with blood-red hair, the familiar forms of Selyse and Shireen flanked by yet more honourguard.
Stannis was addressing the crowd as a ruckuss began from the far left and prisoners were brought to the centre and stood up on a platform that lifted them enough for Jamie to make them out as Wildlings…
The ragged men were bound, standing five in a line as the soldiers secured them to poles…
Jamie paled as the red haired womans voice sounded clearly over the gathered party… speaking of one King in the North… speaking of purging flame and the Lord of Light.
Suddenly he realized what the smell of hog had been for days and his stomach clenched as he gripped Brienne, "We must go!"
"What are they…" it took Brienne little longer to grasp what was truly happening; too filled with honor and innocence to realise Stannis was executing his prisoners until the screams began to sound and she turned to her husband, eyes wide.
"Now!" He urged, tugging at her sleeve and pulling her back the way they came.
They broke out of the maze of tents and into the clearing before Jamie stopped on his heel, forcing Brienne backward as he motioned toward the patrol guard passing a few feet away from them.
Hold fast, stay still, he thought to himself. True enough, they remained unseen.
Once clear, they made it back into the woods and as far from the cries of burning men and the smell of their cooking flesh as they could.
"He's killing his prisoners," Brienne shouted to him as they ran.
"I noticed," Jamie called back, "We have to get back Castle Black!"
And from one moment to the next, he felt the ground beneath him fail; his foot fell, followed by his body, head over heel, clattering into a pit dug to trap animals as Brienne fell behind him and they thudded into the cold, hard ground.
All was darkness.
()()()
Fire.
Jamie had had quite enough of it for his lifetime.
The Mad King had loved the flame so much he fed all into it, growing hard as they screamed and begged and cooked…
What was Jamie to do? A fresh knight of fifteen years and newest of the Kingsguard, sworn to protect the king of the land… no matter how deranged and sadistic. In comparison, Robert Baratheons boorish, whoring ways were nothing to gape at, save for the slight he gave his sister by fathering so many bastards across the seven kingdoms.
It seemed Stannis had learned to appreciate fire as well, offering men to the flame as easily as tossing a dog a scrap of meat and watching it greedily devour the offering without any hint of horror. Perhaps taking Dragonstone had tainted his heart with the same fire-sickness that ruled the Tagaryens.
For the moment, bound and blindfolded as he was, the smell of fires warmth and burning bark and damp wood caused dread to creep through Jamies veins.
He had enough of his senses that he knew Brienne was near… he was bound to her back, something he was familiar with after all their travels… so stretching out the fingers of his left hand, he was relieved to feel them closed in the hold of hers.
So far he knew she was alive and conscious… and they were by a fire… still in the North…
Not too useful.
Further out from them, perhaps a few feet, a number of hushed voices were growing loud enough to hear as he felt Brienne lean in their direction.
"There's nowhere to go," a light voice sounded, thick with concern, "Those horse riders have cut us off from going north…"
"We go south then," another answered.
"To the Crows," someone spat, "rather be fed to the flames."
"Like all the others that damned stag has caught?"
"Better to die, quick, on a sword than crisp, slow, in the flame."
"He may yet let us live…"
"Seen enough of his mercy for my tastes."
"What about the Crow? That bastard…"
"The turn coat!"
"He's all we have."
"Tormund, think of all we've lost," a pleading voice insisted, "Mance is gone… Arisa and Crann. We've even lost Ygritte."
There was an opening…
"Ygritte," Jamie said blindly, attempting to angle his head in the direction of the discussion, "Pale, thin girl… sunset hair and sky blue eyes."
Silence had overtaken the group, save for the labored breathing of two or more of them…
Jamie supposed he had made an impression, until the heavy sound of approaching boots heading his way warned him of the inevitable rough grip on his hair, almost tearing from the root to tilt his head up and angle it.
"What do you know of Ygritte?" A thick accent demanded.
"Nothing," Jamie admitted, "save for the fact she lives, safe and well in Castle Black."
Lightning pain cracked across his jaw as his body lurched away from the blow, only held up by the ropes binding him to Brienne.
The hand was back in his hair, "You lie."
"He does not," Brienne spoke out, "she fell in the battle of the wall and he stood guard over her while a maestor healed her wounds."
The hand left him and Jamie felt his heart in his mouth as Brienne jerked in reaction to something and gave a small cry…
"She speaks the truth," he spoke quickly, "on my honour as…" can't tell them you're a Lannister, "the Lord of Tarth."
"We have ourselves a Southern Lord," someone mocked in the background. "Aren't we fucking lucky."
But the gruff voice was back before him, "You stood watch over her…"
"Yes," Jamie replied.
"Why?"
He felt himself frown, "It was my duty to protect her."
"Why?"
"I promised Jon Snow."
Silence.
Jamie felt for and found Briennes fingers once more, comforted by her touch for a moment before the same rough hands that had grasped him before tugged the blindfold from his eyes.
He blinked into the moment, adjusting to the night and the fire and the unfriendly, northern faces of the Wildlings that had snared them.
The gruff one, Tormund he assumed, had moved to Brienne and finished by unbinding them, despite a number of muffled protests from the others… perhaps a dozen; Jamie was too concerned in getting Brienne to her feet and checking her for injury, as she did him.
"When you're done," the firey-haired man said, untouched by their concern for one another, "I want you to tell me about how you know Jon Snow."
"Our families are acquainted," Jamie didn't lie. "We go way back."
"Liar," Tormund growled.
Brienne had shouldered past Jamie in an instant, snarling, "My husband is no liar, you Craven!"
"Craven, is it woman?" The man spat, drawing his sword as Brienne rushed to throw her armoured chest-plate against his and hold him there, chest-to-chest, eye-to-eye.
"The enemy burns your king to ash," she continued, "and rather than fight him you quarrel as old septas in the scullery!"
The man blew breath through his nose, but listened.
"Choose to come with us to sanctuary or kill us and seal yourselves to flame," Brienne rose to her full height, towering over him, "but no longer threaten and make the decision soon."
For a long time the Wildlling kept his eyes on her, making Jamie wonder how long he could sustain himself against her will.
Not long at all as his head lolled back and a deep, booming laugh sounded as he turned back to his fellows, "This woman has more northern guts than the lot of you…" then he looked to Brienne with a raised brow, "had I only met you ten years ago and I would have taken you right here."
Jamie couldn't help but react to the pass made toward his wife and was gratified when he saw her bristle and sneer in response.
"Were I not married, sated and content…" she gave a snort, "not even then."
The Wildling laughed again, "If only you had sharper teeth..." then he moved to her side, slapped her on the backside and announced, "tell the others we ride to the crows or be damned."
To Jamies surprise, Brienne did not kill him… nor did the other wildlings bowed low and disappeared into the forest.
Brienne looked to Tormund with a threatening glare… making the Wildling grin and bow low, "Onward then, my lady."
The Lady of Casterly Rock shouldered past him, as the Wildlings admiring eyes followed her.
Jamie couldn't help it… as he passed the other man he gave a stamp on his toe and as a hiss issued the lion of the crescent moon whispered, "Not your lady… but mine."
And for the following hours as they made their way through thickening snow back to the castle on the wall, more and more wildlings joining them with every footfall as Brienne led their way, Jamie at her side and Tormund a breath from their backs.
There were mumbles in the camp that Brienne was of giant stock, but his lady paid them no heed, driving them onward and never slackening pace.
All was well and they were but hours from the gates of the castle and safety when a cry sounded from the rear of the now fifty-strong company…
The definite cry of 'Riders' sounded and all about them scattered as Jamie felt his heart soar and reached for his sword.
The attack came quickly; several riders biting at their numbers like sharks at a shole.
Brienne had already drawn her sword and was leaning back into a crouch, coiled to attack; Jamie wanted her right there and then.
But there was battle afoot.
And he felt himself hunker down on his haunches at her back and ask, "Ready?"
In return, he received a withering look; his lady was always ready…
"What did I say about short and exciting..?" Jamie asked as the first of the wildlings broke to attack the riders circling them.
"You wouldn't be content with a wife a' home baring children and pining for your return," Brienne observed, almost casually swinging her sword to dismount the attacker galloping toward them.
The rider clattered to the ground as his mount continued past and Jamie swirled to deliver a swords point to the throat of the one who had attacked them. "True… but how many will we make, do you think?"
He dispatched the sell-sword as another three took his place and he whirled at the back of his warrior lady, fighting the aggressors.
"Children?" She asked, swinging her sword at the on-coming storm.
"What else?" Jamie asked, seeing the scatter of Wildlings and Bravosi soldiers alike.
"No doubt you would want sons of me," she said, cutting down a foe in mid-flight and pivoting to take down another.
She was an artist.
"Perhaps, if the Gods grant, daughters as well…" he answered as he averted the strike of an axe… all of the luck he had saved in his years allowed him to roll away and slice at the attackers arm, rolling to slice at the back of a leg, stab into a thigh and up into the breast.
When he span back to behold her, she shone in battle-light and asked of him, "Daughters?"
Jamie frowned, "They are as equally desired."
Brienne smiled, before turning to stone and cutting down a Bravosi at Jamies back.
"I should desire a son and a daughter equally, my lady," Jamie admitted, dispatching an assailant Tormund had tossed his way and, indulging in the moment, Jamie smiled, "A Lord of Casterly and a Lady of the Saphire Isle… their parents ever on honourable quests."
"Why should our children not join us?" Brienne asked, ducking and dancing about as she killed and maimed.
"You wish this life for our chidren?" Jamie asked.
A hand griped him and lips roughly pressed to his… Gods he hoped it was Brienne, as his hand gripped deep into the hair and tilted the head to allow his tongue to enter.
It was unmistakably his wife as their bodies crashed together and he tasted her…
The battle all-but done… their enemy vanquished and the Lord and Lady of Casterly Rock and Evenfall Hall had only to convince the Knights Watch to allow their mortal enemy into the gates…
But nothing was impossible in that moment, as Jamies loins ached for his wife, knowing that no Wildling among them would care should he tare her clothes and devour her before them as they dispatched the last of the paid-army of Stannis…
Not the time…
They had their lives to explore those moments… and by the Gods, he intended to.
But for now… they made safe the Wildlings and marched for Castle Black.