"Pod, you keep swinging that sword with no grip like that and you'll get yourself killed!"
Just as Brienne uttered those words, Podrick dodged the incoming blade surprisingly well, but when it came time to strike, he was weak and shoved to the floor unceremoniously once more.
Brienne 'the Beauty' sighed as she pulled the squire to his feet, "Pod, if this was a real situation I'd have killed you by now."
"Well I should thank m'lady for not doing that."
"Come on, again."
Just as Brienne raised the frail swords that both were paired with, Podrick regained his defensive posture, when they heard, "Wait, wait, stop!"
Both turned to see a young looking male wildling running up towards them. He took a minute to compose himself until he calmly spoke, "Lady Brienne, you are needed in the meeting room; you have been delivered a message."
Brienne worked through her mind trying to figure out what the message would read and who exactly knew that she was currently lodging at Castle Black.
She assumed it wouldn't be too difficult for specific people to figure out her location. It was a matter of whom knew that she was in charge of rescuing the Lady Sansa, who would recognize her if they saw her, Podrick too for that matter or the news could have been sent to anyone from anyone who was also residing within Castle Black. The whole ordeal could have been a trap for all she knew, but she was learning to gain trust with those who she had fought with and those the Lady Sansa trusted; but with the type of people that lived here: all the thieves, the rapists, and murderers; anyone could be a spy, so many couldn't be trusted.
She made her brisk stride towards the room that may hold deceptive trickery, nonetheless she tried to maintain a positive outlook, trusting there to be at least some individuals who may risk their lives for her.
That Tormund fellow seemed to be infatuated with her; perhaps he would show the possibility of exposing himself to hazard for her, one could dream.
"Ah, Brienne. You're here; we received something that is addressed to you not too long ago."
"Thank you for informing me, Lord Snow." She situated herself around the table of timber, whilst a piece of white parchment found its way into her hardened palm.
It read:-
'Brienne,
I've heard that you have been successful in your quest to locate and protect Sansa Stark; I offer my congratulations.
I realize that I have asked much of you in the past: protecting Podrick, protecting Sansa, assisting me back to my home; but I have to ask you.
There aren't a great, many people that I trust, but I trust you with my life.
I have been forced to vacate from King's Landing by a religious order called the High Sparrow whom have taken over the city.
I have been ordered to sort out some issues regarding Walder Frey in Riverrun, but once I have completed that, which will no doubt end with bloodshed, I intend to take back King's Landing and make sure all those damned High Sparrow members pay.
I hate to ask you of this, to risk your life alongside my own, but I could do with a powerful warrior like you by my side.
So what do you say?
Could you spare some time to help out an old friend? Fight alongside one?
Please just give it some thought.
Many kind regards,
Jaime Lannister.'
Brienne quickly became agape, left speechless once again by the actions of someone to which she fell in love for, someone which she knew she shouldn't.
She wasn't really sure if what she felt for the elder Lannister counted as love; honestly she wasn't entirely certain she knew what it felt like. Yet she had developed some peculiar feelings to which she had never experienced before; even so, Brienne recalled the pain of seeing Jaime injured, she remembered the purity and passion in the sincere words he spoke, and she brought to mind that empty feeling that enveloped her, crushed her heart, as she looked back towards her love, knowing she may never see the 'Kingslayer' again.
It was the Lady Sansa who deftly came to her side, noticing the change in persona. "Lady Brienne, what is it?"
Shortly she regained her spirit, "Don't be alarmed Lady Sansa, it is a message from a friend."
"Well if it's nothing to worry m'lady, then tell us; is it a secret admirer perhaps?" The young soul beamed, making even Brienne smile, but how she wished that was the case.
"Not exactly, m'lady. It is a plea for help from Jaime Lannister."
The newfound silence within the room was heightened considerably. Jon leant on the surface of the slab, leaning forward as he spoke with a spitefulness tone in his voice, "Jaime Lannister?"
"Yes, my lord."
His voice became dangerously low making Brienne retract her hand gingerly to Oathkeeper, "You mean to say that you are in positive spirits with the man who betrayed my father? The man who would happily stab his own king in the back when given the chance?"
Heavy footsteps dawned closer to the blond, brawny woman, "Oi, Snow, give the woman a break will you?" The foreign drawl stated.
Brienne didn't need any man to fight her battles, "Lord Snow, I am in good spirits with Jaime Lannister. He saved my life several times, I saved his. If he is desperate enough to ask for my help, I should at least consider the preposition."
Seeing Jon ease his composure, slightly more relaxed and knowing that she had the aid of her ginger 'fanatic' by her side should she need some extra help, gave her the opportunity to dwindle the effects of the oncoming adrenaline.
Sansa went to stand by her brother, placing one of her more delicate hands on his shoulder, "Jon, I trust Brienne. Jaime Lannister didn't kill father, perhaps he truly has turned a new page?"
He scoffed, "A Lannister changing their ways, I highly doubt that."
Ignoring her brother's naive behaviour, Sansa sat in front of the warrior, her face calm and mellow, "Brienne, I shall respect whatever you decide to do, you have brought me to my brother, you assisted in saving my younger brother, and you have more than paid your debt. If you want to go and help elsewhere, you may; you will always have a place here."
"Thank you –"
The familiar gruff Northern voice sounded from her left, having chosen to sit in the wooden seat closest to her. Brienne could smell his musk, could feel the heat transpiring from his body; who could blame her for becoming so flustered?
"What about that Bolton bastard? We managed to piss his lot off; if Brienne leaves -Ramsay will kill her, just for the sake of it an' all."
Sansa and Jon shared a look, "I wasn't aware you and Brienne were so close, Tormund?"
Brienne could have cried from the insinuation alone. She turned in her chair just to see Tormund giving very sexual gestures to those in the room, but before she had time to even give a retort, everyone suddenly rose to the sound of commotion in the courtyard.
Edd, Jon, Sansa, Tormund and herself all immediately ran to the balcony which overlooked the courtyard.
The sight that beheld them brought nausea and grief to them all.
A handful of wildlings that defended the gate of Castle Black lay dead amongst the feet of the only and only, actual devil himself, Ramsay Bolton.
He twirled around, gaining the attention of those who hadn't noticed the evil that had entered their retreat, and bore a manic, toothy, psychopathic grin.
"Well, well, well." He said, spreading his arms wide, adding to his dramatics. "How is my little Sansa? Little Rickon too? Lord Snow, I've heard much about you, you and your wildling army. You see, I'm here- well you probably know the answer to that already."
He continued his speech after kicking the feet of one deceased wildlings, Tormund shook with anger beside her.
"You have angered an extremely powerful and dangerous man...that's me if you hadn't guessed already. I want what's mine, and I intend to get it. Sooo, how about we all play nice and you hand over little Sansa and Rickon, and then I'll be on my way?"
Jon stood forward, presenting himself for all to see. "We both know, Lord Bolton, that's never going to happen."
Ramsay smiled; it was a particularly ominous one, one forged for nightmares. He brought his blood stained fingers to his mouth and whistled, "Boys! Kill them all!"
