"Jaime."

Tyrion's voice came from outside his door in the guest hall. "Come in," said Jaime, as he tried to pull off his soaking boot besides the meagre fireplace. Jaime sighed, steam escaping his mouth. He couldn't warm up, no matter how hard he tried. How did Brienne and Tyrion do this?

His brother's curly head appeared in the threshold. "She wants to talk with you," Tyrion said softly.

Jaime's mouth went dry. "Who does?"

"The Queen. Daenerys."

Jaime's heart sunk. "She knows I'm here," he said flatly. Tyrion nodded apologetically.

"I am her hand, and Jon Snow is her…" Tyrion looked at the floor. "I don't know." His eyes were solemn and vaguely sad.

"Are they…?"

"Yes." Tyrion's eyes flicked up.

Jaime frowned at Tyrion. "Are you…?"

"She's growing impatient. We will see you in the great hall," interrupted Tyrion, as he gestured for Jaime to move. "Get your boots back on and see you shortly."

Jaime chuckled. "Now you're just walking into the jokes."

Tyrion smirked and left.

"You murdered my father." Her voice was even, ethereal as she was; her eyes were large and wraithlike, her skin pale and beautiful. Her hair echoed the snow that fell outside. "You tried to kill Bran Stark. You tried to kill me."

All of Daenerys's advisors, the Stark loyalists, The Wildlings, various inhabitants of the North and a majority of the Unsullied and Dothraki were packed into the great hall. Missandei of Naath and the leader of the Unsullied stood in the corner, behind the panel of self-proclaimed monarchs; Tormund Giantsbane stood beside the Unsullied boy, and Brienne, standing sentinel, beside him. Jaime couldn't help but laugh to himself at the Wildling's pathetic attempts to woo Brienne; he surely couldn't really believe he could win her over, did he? It was ludicrous, Jaime thought. Jaime shook the thoughts way, focussing on the problem at hand.

Jaime stood before the Dragon Queen, standing as tall as he could. A Lion would not cow before a dragon infant, his father's voice echoed in his head.

"I do not deny my crimes," Jaime looked Daenerys in the eyes as she sat before him. Tyrion sat to her left, Jon Snow to her right. Jorah Mormont stood behind her. To Snow's right, Sansa, Arya Stark; but instead of Bran Stark, Davos Seaworth. "I have made mistakes in my past, but so have we all. So have you. You burnt thousands of my men, burnt Dickon Tarly-"

He heard a wavering intake of breath come from the back of the hall. He did not care to turn and see who it was.

"Why did you let him in here?" Daenerys interjected. "They were my enemies. You were my nemesis." Tyrion shook his head at her. She quietened, but not without scowling.

"Yes, your enemies. I was your enemy, and you were a threat. But I am no longer your enemy. I saw what that thing was at the Dragonpit. I have night terrors about it every night. That is your nemesis now," said Jaime. Jon Snow leaned forwards in his seat. "I will swear allegiance to the North, and I will protect the North," Jaime continued.

"And your sist-"

"Cersei," his voice caught in his throat. Tyrion's eyebrows knitted together. "Cersei has failed to uphold her side of the agreement. I have forsaken my allegiance to her." He heard some whispers and gasps from behind him; Lord Varys, no doubt.

Daenerys's chin lifted slightly, her eyes giving nothing away. Jon Snow had clearly already told her, but hearing it from Jaime confirmed the awful truth. "I see." She looked at Jon. "Why have you made the decision now, after so many years, to forsake your sister and your queen who you served so loyally and attempted to murder a child of ten for?"

Jaime took a shaky breath. "Fuck loyalty," he said.

His eyes flicked momentarily to Brienne, who smiled softly. He'd hoped she had remembered.

Jon Snow coughed. "Fuck loyalty," he repeated slowly. Jaime blinked, silent.

"I understand now that this goes beyond houses and loyalties and allegiances. I want us to survive."

The hall erupted in murmurs. "He'll probably kill us all for his sister before the war even begins!" a loud voice boomed. "He's the Kingslayer, he'll slay you!" another cried. Jaime turned around to the people and sneered. They honestly think I'd be here just to betray them?, he thought. He shook his head in disbelief.

"Silence!" shouted Jon. Thank the gods, Jaime thought. "The war has already begun. I have not called you all here to solely judge the Kingslayer," Jon announced solemnly. "We cannot worry ourselves about betrayal when there is a much more serious threat that is inching closer by the hour." He inhaled deeply, and Jaime dreaded the words about to escape him.

"The Wall has been breached. Tormund was at Eastwatch, and Bran saw the Night King and his army, including…" Jon looked at Daenerys, whose eyes were dead, "… A reanimated dragon."

Jaime's stomach flipped. The hall became a cacophony of chaos and crying and yelling. Sansa, Arya and Bran clasped each other's hands, and Tyrion put a hand on his forehead, looking to Jaime. Jorah Mormont looked to Daenerys, whose eyes were staring straight ahead of her. Missandei and the Unsullied leader embraced.

Jaime looked to Brienne, and the terror instilled within him was unlike anything he'd ever felt. Brienne's blue eyes, wide with fear, echoed his own emotions that coursed through him. He noticed with a grimace that Tormund Giantsbane also looked towards Brienne.

"The Brotherhood without Banners were lost, but we have received word that Beric Dondarrion and Gendry Waters are near the Last Hearth," said Jon, and Jaime saw Arya Stark's head turn sharply to Jon. It was the first glimpse of a facial reaction he had seen from her since arriving.

Daenerys stood up. "Enough!" she resounded over the noise. Jaime noticed her eyes were moist. "They may have taken my child away from me, but I will not let the Night King destroy my others." The hall settled slightly. "We can, and we will, destroy them."

"We have enough food for the winter, and we have seen that everyone be taught how to fight with dragonglass," piped in Sansa Stark, her gentle voice soothing the people. "Dragonfire can destroy the dead, too," she looked at Daenerys, who smiled at her gratefully.

"We have been waiting for this war for too long," said Jon Snow. "It is here, and we will fight. But not today," he said. "We have approximately a week until they reach the ice planes near Eastwatch, due to their slow speed. Once there, Daenerys will take her dragons and try to burn as many as she can. What they cannot burn, we will kill with dragonglass. All of us." Jon returned his gaze to Jaime. "Including you, Kingslayer."

Jaime nodded, bowing his head. "I will."

Jon Snow dismissed him to the side, and Jaime went and stood beside Bronn. "Should've had a Valyrian steel hand made," he whispered. Jaime couldn't help but chuckle. Jaime watched as Bronn's face screwed up, making it craggier than it already was.

"What is it?" Jaime murmured back. "You look like you're taking a shit."

"The Scorpion," said Bronn.

Jaime frowned, but realisation dawned on him. "The Scorp-"

"I cannot guarantee that we will all survive this," Said Jon Snow, as he looked out towards his loyalists, the armies, the common people. That silenced Jaime and Bronn, but they would discuss that later. He really is a king, Jaime pondered, a Stark through and through. "But I can guarantee that I will keep you as well-armed and as prepared as you can possibly be. Daenerys will go North in two days to smoke them out, and the following week we will travel north to fight." He searched the eyes of every soul in the hall. "Are you with me, now and always?"

"Now and Always!" the people cried, and Jaime turned to look at Tyrion, whose eyes were sad, his face pensive. He did not want to say goodbye.

Jaime would make sure he wouldn't need to.

"You can't help train the children," said Arya, "you should go and help put the furs on the armour, or pack rations." She sharpened her skinny sword on a nearby rock. Gods, she looked like Ned, thought Jaime. Her brown hair was tied back in a similar way, and her grey eyes had that honest look; however, hers seemed colder, darker.

Jaime looked at the Stark girl, bemused. "Have you… have forgotten who I am?" he asked. "Training is the best place for me. It's all I can offer."

Arya cocked her dark eyebrow. "No, but the left-handed children have me to learn from," she said harshly. "Why don't you… I don't know, go and push a child out another window."

Jaime's jaw quivered. "I am sorry."

Arya shrugged, turning away from him. "I know. Still doesn't give him his legs back."

Jaime looked at the ground. "I made…"

"An oath to my mother, yes, I know," Arya huffed. "I guess I can thank you for that. Thank you for Brienne, anyway."

Jaime could see Brienne talking with Sansa across the yard. "She's honourable. More honourable than I ever could hope to be." Jaime ran a hand over his ever-greying blonde head.

"At least we agree on that," said Arya. She paused. "You… you can help sharpen the children's weapons." She left it at that, and Jaime sighed. Being ordered around by a seventeen-year-old girl Northern girl, he thought to himself. How far you've fallen, and how far you've risen.

Jaime made his way over to Brienne and Sansa. "Lady Brienne," he said.

The pair looked at him, and Brienne nodded as Sansa left. Sansa smiled softly as she turned towards the Great Keep, and Jaime returned it.

"An ice dragon," said Jaime. "A bloody ice dragon."

"I know," said Brienne. "I've always thought I had a chance in a fight. But now…" she shrugged her shoulders.

"You have a chance," said Jaime sharply. "You've always got a chance, Brienne."

Brienne's eyes met his. Jaime hesitated, fearing he'd said too much. He avoided her gaze, looking around. He wanted to get his words across.

"Brienne," he began, "Bronn said something earlier. When we were fighting Daenerys…"

"You're not going to…"

"Let me finish, Brienne," said Jaime. Brienne's mouth pursed. "When we were fighting her, and the black dragon, Bronn managed to shoot it in the haunch. It wasn't enough to kill it, but that's simply because it was the biggest dragon."

Brienne's face was shocked. "With a crossbow?"

"It was called the Scorpion. It was a giant crossbow, manufactured by that necrophile cunt who I owe my stump to. It could've easily taken down one of the smaller dragons." He watched her face come to the realisation as he had. It was a glorious sight. "If we could… with dragonglass…"

"You think this… Scorpion could…"

"Bronn believes it could. He's telling Tyrion right now." Jaime looked up at the white-grey sky. "We could win this war. Jon Snow believes it, Daenerys believes it. Do you?"

Before she could answer, their talk was interrupted. "My beauty," a gruff voice came from behind Jaime. Brienne sighed.

Jaime turned around, a tight smile on his face. "Tormund," Jaime greeted him. "You off to find the Brotherhood?"

Tormund ignored him. "Gods, you are larger and even more glorioys than I remember," Tormund shoved Jaime out of the way. "In two days I leave with the Dragon queen to find the Brotherhood and begin fighting," he purred, his voice a deep rumble. Brienne crossed her arms, standing tall as she looked down at the Wildling.

"You do," she replied. Jaime's neck was tight. How dare he push me, he thought.

"I want t' make the most of these last two days. They could be the last two days of m'whole life."

Jaime watched Brienne's face go from irritated to mildly concerned. For fuck's sakee, Jaime thought, sickened.

"What are you talking to me for, then?" Brienne asked, catching a snowflake on her hand.

Tormund took a step closer to her, until they were only inches apart. Jaime laughed audibly.

"I want t' make the most of you, my beauty." Tormund's voice was a low growl. "We could rule the world, you and I, warriors-"

"Tormund," Jaime's smile was so tight he felt like his skin would snap. Gods, I sound like Cersei, he thought. "The Lady Brienne is clearly not interested. You ought to be preparing for your journey north." His voice was measured, but the anger that flowed as an undercurrent was clear.

Tormund guffawed, not looking away from Brienne. "The lady can decide that for herself, Knightling," said Tormund. "What do you say, my warrior queen? I might be dead in three days. Grant me dying wish."

Brienne stared down at Tormund, then at Jaime. "Tormund, I…" though it was glacial, Brienne's face was flushed. "Ser Jaime, if you would leave us…"

What? Jaime was astounded. He felt his jaw slacken. "Brienne, he might…" Jaime took a step forward.

"Leave, Ser," said Brienne. Jaime shut his jaw and clenched it tightly. Tormund looked at him as if to say, I win.

Jaime straightened, his pride hurt, and spun on his heel. Fucking wench, he thought. Doesn't she know better? He fought the urge to look over his shoulder at them. Last night in this world. What a fucking jape.

Tyrion and Bronn had just left the Great Keep, and were walking towards Jaime, their eyes hopeful.

"We've decided to…" Tyrion began, but Jaime stormed past them. "Alright, die, then," Tyrion muttered. "Fucking idiot, what's he…?"

Bronn shook his head in confusion, until his eyes fell on Brienne and Tormund, still conversing. "Aha."

Tyrion followed Bronn's gaze, then looked back to him. "Oh," he said. "I knew it. I KNEW it."