They all gathered in the courtyard, the sun by some miracle breaking through the thick storm clouds and heavy smoke blanketing Winterfell. A cast of gold over massacred land. Brienne's body moved her automatically, searching amongst the many dead for the Starks. When she saw Lady Sansa gingerly walk her way out of the crypt, a shell-shocked expression written on her porcelain features, Brienne drew out a ragged breath she hadn't realized she had been holding.
"Lady Sansa" was all Brienne could manage as she clamored her way through the wreckage, but still managing to stand tall and proud despite her bloodied and bruised appearance. Sansa looked up, a ghost of a smile on her face, but with sad, haunted eyes.
"Lad-… well, Ser Brienne now, I suppose" she spoke, quickly glancing beside her to Tyrion Lannister, who managed a small nod in Brienne's direction. Sansa's voice was frail but with it the same steely demeanor. Every bit Lady Catelyn's blood. Not the summer child she once was in King's Landing.
The two women took in each other, glassy-eyed, simply relieved but so incredibly sad of the sight that was held before them. Tyrion observed the Knight in front of him, a peculiar sight indeed. He then remembered Jaime. Tyrion spoke, breaking the spell between them. "My brother?". His tone was hesitant, almost as if him asking would bring a terrible truth. She was with him on the ground. He vowed to serve alongside her. Tyrion had managed to get it out of his brother whilst sharing a cup of dogshit wine.
x
"Dearest brother" Tyrion started, taking a massive gulp of his wine. Jaime sighed and knew a conversation were to come up that Jaime wouldn't enjoy. He could tell by Tyrion's tone. "It struck me dumb today how often your eyes were glued to a certain tall, blonde-haired woman".
Here we go, indeed.
Tyrion paused before continuing. "You never told me what happened to your hand all those years ago, you know. Indeed it was only today when she declared in front of Queen Daenerys herself that you saved her and your life was worth holding onto. The men were forcing themselves onto her, a woman you barely knew, and you saved her" Tyrion declared, a quizzical look on his face, but not in any manner that could be accusatory, more amusement, Jaime thought. "A curious thing indeed for the proud Kingslayer to do. Defending the honor of his captor, who was serving the enemy of House Lannister".
There was truth in his words, and Jaime simply didn't have an answer to his ponderings. In fact, he asked himself most days why- before he really knew the woman- why he did prevent Locke's men from having her. Of course, now it was a different story. He would give his own worthless life to stop that from happening to – well what was she to him... A friend? The title didn't seem to fit.
But no, he didn't have an answer for his smartass brother, who Jaime knew had an agenda with this conversation, as he always does, and he waited for it to come.
"You've never once mentioned her to me really, even when I asked as if she were your precious secret".
Jaime managed a small huff of a laugh, looking up from his cup to Tyrion, who was studying him with his large eyes. "It's a long story I'm afraid little brother, one that would take time. If anything time is not on our side at this very moment".
He was trying to avoid the subject. Again, like Cersei were still here and uttering Brienne's name would summon their dear sister. Tyrion was a smart man. He never brought the woman up in King's Landing, for the simple fact of Cersei. He was trying to protect Brienne from Cersei.
It all clicked then and there for Tyrion. He thought he knew what his brother was like, as a man in love. Lovesick, and weak, bending to his sisters every command. But no – this was something else entirely. The poor fool probably had no idea either. He never was the smartest Lannister after all.
"That's bullshit and you know it" Tyrion chuckled, looking at the crackling fire before him dying down, so decided to stand and stoke the flames some more. He inevitably decided to drop the conversation altogether when his brother was rendered speechless, clearly deep in thought.
"She's a good fighter" Jaime whispered, breaking the deathly silence that blanketed the hall for some time. "And yet still an ever better woman".
His brother was singing praises of another woman? The world truly was ending, mused Tyrion, thinking Jaime wanted to drop the conversation. Tyrion didn't want to break the spell, to interrupt Jaime's thoughts with some witty comeback.
"I pledged to fight alongside her when the time comes," he said, rising in his seat just slightly. Waiting for his brother to judge him, mock him, or tease him all he liked. I'm probably wasn't going to see the night through anyway, thought Jaime. What harm can my little brother do now?
"Did you now?" Tyrion replied, amusement written all over his scarred face.
"I did" spoke Jaime, with a finality in his tone, seemingly satisfied and calm, despite it all.
"Well, I'm happy for you". Jaime scoffed in response, unsure just what his brother was implying, but not asking any questions. With that, the conversation was dropped, and the two golden-haired men turned back to the fire, sipping on their wine, pondering their imminent death.
x
She must know what has happened to his brother. He said he was to fight alongside her on the left flank.
Brienne turned to him and immediately replied: "Ser Jaime is alive".
Her saying those words brought up a lump in her throat, finally able to accept that he was indeed still alive. Tyrion sucked in a breath, and nodded, before turning to Lady Sansa and squeezing her hand. Tyrion and Sansa's eyes met in a brief but weighted moment, with words written on their faces that words could not convey. What happened down there? Brienne wished to ask, but before she could, Tyrion walked off in search of the others.
"It's a peculiar thing" Sansa whispered, Brienne uncertain if it were her that she was addressing, or simply the wind, the ghosts around them. "We've won. The night king has fallen, the dead are gone. But with it, he took all those with him, so I cannot help but feel we've lost and he still won because we're left with this".
The words rang true for Brienne, unsure just how much the lady bared witness, but knew something must've happened down there to make her speak such things. Like always, Brienne could never seem to find the right words at the right time, to comfort Sansa. But she felt selfish because she could not bring herself to care for comforting others, for speaking wise words or looking forward. Her whole mind was a whirlwind and she could not think. So she did the only rational thing she could do in that moment.
"I better go, get to work, find the others". Lady Sansa looked up, a terrified look on her face knowing who she was referring to. Her brothers and sister. Sansa nodded, standing rooted to her spot, watching Ser Brienne walk away, unsure what to do with herself for the first time in a long time.
x
Some hours had passed, yet feeling like days, and Ser Jaime left himself with the strenuous task of compiling the bodies, getting the men around him to haul them onto carts. "M'lord" Podrick spoke from behind him, causing Jaime to stop and turn around. "Your brother has been asking after you".
"Tell him I'm busy" he muttered, wanting to deal with the task at hand. Podrick watched with sad eyes at the man before him, with one good hand hauling the dead into piles outside the gates as Jon Snow had instructed. Evening was upon them and Jaime hadn't stopped to rest, or even think, not once. He set to work as Podrick expected he might.
Ser Brienne was doing precisely the same thing, outside the broken gates, making the young squire concerned. He goaded her to rest and eat something but the stubborn knight barked – as expected - that she was occupied and couldn't stop. He knew she didn't mean to bite at him, he understood her well enough to know she needed to be left alone and do something useful. That was the way they both worked. Their faces were both still marked by the blood of the dead, and by their own blood.
He focused back on the broken man in front of him, the past day's wounds and bruises catching up to him, from what Podrick could tell by his demeanor. "I'm afraid he insisted and instructed me that if you were to refuse to drag you by your heels". Jaime looked behind him once again, exasperated with the young squire. He saw Podrick's kind eyes smiling back at him. "Come, m'lord, you need to rest, even for a moment. There's food in the hall".
"I insist that I'm quite alright and you can tell my brother that" he bit back, carrying on once again. He paused and looked up before saying. "I'll be in later, I just -…" his words caught in his throat, a stinging in his eyes stopping him. The man looked as if he were about to cry. Podrick then understood. Seeing Jaime like this was more terrifying still. He nodded silently, and left the man to it.
The men around him insisted on a break, and before he knew it he was the last man left in the courtyard, still piling the bodies, another and another. Darkness crept up once again, Jaime musing how short the days were to the north. Weak Northern fools, his brain would've once conjured. There's no rest for the dead. There's still work to do. But he was too weakened to be angry at them.
He heard footsteps, and instinctively knew who those heavy pair belonged to. By the gods, she could never sneak around anywhere, couldn't be graceful in her steps if her life depended on it. She didn't appear to have seen him, instead, walking in the shadows, almost avoiding the carnage before her, and ducking straight for the great hall. She looked every bit as steely and determined as she had before the battle. When she was knighted. He had sworn to have beheld beautiful sights before. The beaches of King's Landing, the blue sapphire waters, his sister with her long Lannsiter locks, she with the crown bestowed upon her pretty head.
But no – he had not seen a sight more beautiful than Lady – Ser Brienne of Tarth, rising from her knelt position, looking the man in the eyes as if he had bestowed upon her the moon and stars itself. So tall, proud and strong, like he had never seen her. Glassy-eyed and beaming as if the sun shone into the dark hall. By the gods, she had a beautiful smile. He'd never seen the woman smile before. That was what she suddenly was to him, simply a woman in want of recognition, of love. Who would've thought Brienne of fucking Tarth would be beautiful.
He really was a fool after all. Follow her. Go to her.
"Well brother, if you bloody well insist" he grovelled, dropping the large plank he was attempting to haul, and silently following behind the lady knight into the great hall.
Thank you for the reviews, so far! I am still not over episode 8.02 so had to touch on a little bit of that before moving forward. Would love feedback, much appreciated. I'm a little bogged down by Uni at the moment, so will try upload when possible! Of course, since new episodes come out every week I'll try my best to follow this story but no divert from canon too much. I just love these characters so much it hurts.
Until next time!