But my goodness, this is short... just trying to clear up most things before the plot actually continues to move in what I hope is the right direction...
Chapter 12:
There was an uncomfortable silence surrounding the encampment as it slept, preparing itself for the ride ahead to Winterfell. Despite the men who were outside taking turns on hourly patrol shifts, there seemed to be no noise anywhere, which unnerved Brienne more than she liked to say. The four of them, Arya, the Hound, Lady Sansa and herself were all sharing one fair sized tent. It was comfortable enough, with beds for each of them and small tables for plates of fruit to sit on, which was about the same that every tent ever belonging to someone of high importance had, she had noticed in her own military history. Arya was curled among her blankets like a pup clings to its mother shortly after it has been born, her fists clutching the material with an unusual ferocity for sleep. She had been awake for a while, but eventually her eyes had slid shut and Brienne had silently promised that she would stay awake and keep watch. Sansa had been asleep when they had returned, her tears still dampening her cheeks. The Hound was lying silently in the bed next to Sansa, facing her. Brienne had been watching him for seemingly hours. When he moved, so her hand did subconsciously toward her scabbard. It was that silent movement that made him turn over and face her to speak.
"I said it when we met, Bitch of Tarth," His voice was lower than Arya's breathing, "And I'll say it again. Why bother?"
Before Brienne made any response, she remembered her words to Arya, saying she wouldn't confront him before she'd spoken to Sansa. She looked over to Arya, and then Sansa. No movement from either of them. As large as man as he was, he could be quiet when he wished. Much like herself, she supposed. In a cautious whisper she said:
"I swore a vow."
She heard him make a small laugh of contempt. He turned on his side to face Sansa once more. It was almost too dark to make out, but Brienne could have sworn she saw some of the tension in his muscly arms soften as his focus came back to Lady Sansa.
"Bugger your vows. I protect her. Nothing else."
There was a hard tone in his voice that told Brienne he meant no one else. Regardless, a vow is not a thing lightly broken.
"If you hurt her," She finally whispered, "I will cut your throat."
"If I hurt her," The Hound replied, "I'll do it myself."