And now, they were out on the road. Jon was determined to find Bran, and to that end he had marshaled a part of his forces to go with him to search the North for his half-brother. Brienne, Tormund, and Sansa were all riding ahead with him, leading the troops and the cavalry and scouting ahead to see what dangers lay in their path.

They traveled a good distance that first day, and once night fell they made camp deep in the woods of the North. Jon had provided the four of them with roomy tents, and as the horses were being tied up they began setting up these sleeping quarters. It was definitely a change from being able to sleep in a bed in a room of her own at Winterfell, but compared to sleeping out in the elements it was definitely the most comfortable accommodations Brienne had ever been provided with on a quest. Jon had even thoughtfully provided camp chairs for them, so they wouldn't have to sit on the hard ground, and the tents were tall enough that she could sit in the chair without her head scraping the ceiling.

These tents, however, afforded almost none of the privacy that the rooms in the castle had. All four of them were clustered close together, for safety's sake - because they were stronger against whatever lurked out in the forest if they were near each other, and there was a far lesser chance of someone getting separated from the group and lost in the woods. But this also meant that she was in much closer quarters with Jon and Sansa than she had been before, and there was no longer any way to keep up her secret life. Or so it seemed.

She was surprised and slightly annoyed that night when Tormund pushed her tent flap open and strode inside. "What are you doing?" she whispered, standing up.

He came over to her and kissed her full on the lips. "The same thing we've been doing every night," he said, pulling her tunic down off her shoulder and beginning to move his lips on her neck.

"We can't," she hissed, pulling him away. "Not in these tents."

"Why not?" he murmured, trying to kiss her ear this time.

Again she pulled away. "Because Sansa's right there," she said, jabbing a finger behind her, "and Jon is over there." She pointed toward the closest corner of her tent. "And this fabric" - she was fingering the hide that made up the tent's walls - "is too thin. Anyone could hear us."

While she was speaking he had gotten his hands on her tunic again and this time he was rolling it up her torso, until her breasts were exposed. His fingers traced over her and then his mouth found its way to her nipples, and as he gently lifted the tunic over her head she found she had lost the willpower to stop him. "We'll just have to be quiet, then," he whispered to her. "You'll have to be quiet." He smirked. "If that's possible."

He sat her down on the camp chair, right in the middle of the tent, and slowly, teasingly, pulled her britches off her legs and over her feet. It was cold but soon she could barely feel it, what with him kneeling between her legs and pressing his face into her, moving his mouth in all the ways she loved. His hands were on her hips, holding her steady, and she clapped a hand over her mouth to keep the moans from coming out too loudly. She managed to stifle herself, but her quivering body and the small noises that were escaping from her were signal enough that she was enjoying what he was doing.

They were both so focused on her enjoyment that they failed to hear the rustling outside her tent, until it was too late. Suddenly Sansa and Jon's heads popped through the tent flap, with Jon getting out, "Brienne, we wanted to ask you …" before the siblings realized what was going on and froze in their tracks.

In hindsight, it was a comical scene. Jon and Sansa were so shocked that they seemed glued to the ground, unable to move, just staring at what was going on. Sansa looked simultaneously shocked and incredulous, while Jon's expression went from surprised to … knowing? What was that look on his face?

Brienne, meanwhile, was blushing deep red and attempting fruitlessly to cover herself. She managed to throw her arms across her breasts but the rest of her was completely exposed. Tormund, for his part, was still on the ground in front of her, still kneeling. He shrugged, grinned, and wiped his mouth with the back of his hand as Sansa and Jon collected their wits and hastily backed out of the tent.