The Starks and the other houses of the North, with help of the men of the Vale, have defeated Ramsay Bolton and his army, and Winterfell has been retaken. Everybody is celebrating the victory at the Great Hall. Actually, almost everybody.

If Brienne said she is not pleased about how things have turned out, she would be lying. But truth is, she is not. Because she has failed to get help from Brynden Tully she was assigned to. Because she would have been much more useful at Winterfell, protecting Sansa Stark. And because, she would have liked to fight with the Northern army.

With a heavy sigh, Brienne decides to take her leave for her chambers. After a few steps into the chilly courtyard, she hears the door being opened. She grunts and reluctantly turns around, expecting to see Podrick. Who she sees, however, does not entirely surprise her.

"Lass! Lass, wait!"

Tormund Giantsbane. Yes, Brienne would have liked to fight alongside him, too, she is forced to admit as she watches him run towards her. She has not had the chance to see the Free Folk leader fight, and, if she is to believe the stories she has heard about him, he must be a hell of a warrior. He even claims to have climbed the Wall! And, much to her distaste, to have bedded a bear, too.

She does not feel like talking to him right now, though. Not to anyone else, for that matter. She just wants some time alone.

"What do you want, Tormund?" she requires, crossing her arms, slightly annoyed when he approaches her.

"Where are you going, lass? There's a celebration going on in there, and you're leaving so soon?" he asks back, a little breathless.

"Yes, I am. I need to go to bed. The travel back from Riverrun was exhausting." Brienne turns around, but is stopped by Tormund's hand grabbing her arm. "Gods, what?"

He stares at her, right into her eyes, for a few seconds. "You don't seem happy," he states.

The knight breathes another sigh of exasperation, turning to him slowly, and the red bearded man lets go of her arm. Eventually she confesses, "Yes, you're right. I'm not happy. I mean, in a way I am, but I could have helped by bringing Blackfish and the Tully army to the battle."

Tormund's hand grabs her shoulder, this time. His gaze carries sympathy. "Brienne, it's not your fault that old man refused to leave his castle. You did what you could. Besides, we managed to win those bastards."

"But you could have lost the battle." And I can't believe I have to thank Littlefinger for that. She finds herself raising her hand to lightly touch his face. A sudden thought saddens her. "I heard you were almost killed…"

"Ha, that was nothing," Tormund laughs, but there is a certain sorrow in his tone. He knows it is true, he might have not survived. "It doesn't matter. Everything's alright, now."

"Yes, it is," Brienne concedes, a grin spreading on her face, which makes him grin back at her. Her heart flutters when she feels him lean into her touch. "Thank you, Tormund. I should go now." She tries to remove her hand from his cheek, be he quickly places his hand over hers.

"You need some company?" Tormund offers with that infamous leer of his.

Good thing that it is dark, so he does not have to see Brienne blush. She hesitates for a moment, before replying, "I'm sorry, but I really need to be alone for a while."

"If you insist. I must go back to my men, anyway." Still holding her hand, he turns his head in order to press a kiss to her palm, his eyes never leaving hers.

The two of them gaze at each other for a brief moment, before Brienne leans down, Tormund presses up and their lips meet in a quick but sweet kiss. When they part, they bid each other goodnight and go their ways.

It is funny how there is something calming, hopeful in Tormund's kisses. The man may be a Wildling, but somehow he does know how to be gentle, how to make her feel better. And Brienne is indeed feeling better. She almost forgot what she was sad about. She has never been kissed like this before, and-

Wait.

Did she say Tormund's kisses?

What is she talking about? That was, in fact, their very first kiss, but for some reason it had felt so natural, like something they have been doing for a long time.

Brienne's realization makes her suddenly come to a halt.

"Tormund?" she calls before turning around. She notices that he never left his spot.

"Yeah?" he replies, clearly struggling to keep a straight face.

"What just happened?"

Tormund takes slow steps toward her. "Well, we… kissed."

"And who... initiated it?"

"Both, I'm afraid."

"Oh. Yes, I suppose," The Lady of Tarth nods slowly. She does not know what she is feeling right now.

The Free Folk man closes the distance between them. It is his turn to inquire, "You didn't like it, lass?"

After reflecting for a moment, she confesses, "Well, it's not that I didn't like it, it's just that I - I can't really say I wasn't expecting it, since I'm partially responsible for the kiss, so…" she finishes with a shrug.

"Hmm."

Brienne is afraid to ask, but she does, anyway. "What about you?"

"I don't know," he answers, his face only inches away from hers, his eyes traveling from her lips to her eyes and back. "I'd most certainly like to have a second kiss, you know, just to be sure."

"Oh, really?" she laughs, and before she knows it, Tormund wrap his arms around her waist, while Brienne throw hers themselves around his neck, and they lips press against one another again.

When she sighs, he takes the chance to slip his tongue inside her mouth. Their kiss is soft and unhurried, but deep, and Brienne tries to reciprocate as best as she can with her little experience. Tormund tastes of mead and something else she cannot quite identify, his beard is soft against her skin, but it feels oh so right, so good - better than she could ever expect. Her heart almost exploding in her chest, she feels herself diving more and more into the kiss, until she hears someone clearing their throat behind them.

Brienne ends the kiss abruptly only to find Sansa watching them with a crooked smile upon her face, prompting her to push Tormund away and break their embrace.

"Lady Sansa," she utters, not daring face her, completely embarrassed.

"Lady Brienne. Tormund," Sansa greets with a nod.

"My lady," he nods back, his voice humorous.

"I apologize for interrupting your… moment, but there are matters I wish to discuss with Brienne, so if you wouldn't mind."

"Yes, my lady," Brienne promptly replies, as she observes Lady Stark move away from the couple. With a chuckle, the red headed man manages to steal one last kiss from the knight, before bidding both women good night and retreating, causing her to blush even harder.

"So. You and 'that Wildling fellow with the beard', eh?" Sansa teases once Brienne reaches her.

She blinks a few times, feeling uneasy. "I-I'm sorry, Lady Sansa, for my momentary lapse. My only duty is to protect you, and-"

"Oh, no, you have nothing to be sorry for. So far you have served me well, so I think you deserve some distraction," the Stark girl winks at the taller woman. "If it's my permission you need, then you have it. Just enjoy him, and enjoy yourself."

"Thank you, Sansa," Brienne says, touched by her words. "I'll try."

"You're very welcome. And I know you can defend yourself, but please let me know if Tormund does you any harm, is that alright?"

The knight laughs, and follows Sansa to her chambers. He better not do her any harm, but she is sure he will not try his luck.