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The stables of Winterfell were shrouded in darkness save for the one lantern that Brienne had been able to bring with her; the wind was picking up and all the torches had blown out on her way down from her chambers. She didn't think she'd ever been awake this early in her life and, frustratingly, it took her more than three attempts to saddle her horse which was something she could normally do with her eyes shut. With the impending battle for the Iron Throne and the more pressing threat from the White Walkers it had been agreed that the Wildlings camp should be moved closer to Winterfell; should the Lannister army brave the journey north to do battle with Jon Snow or the Night King finally make it beyond the Wall. Following Lady Sansa's instructions, Brienne and Pod were to be supervising the endeavor, which was why she was awake at this ungodly hour, but she wasn't all that pleased about it. Brienne really hadn't wanted to go; she would have much preferred to have stayed behind at Winterfell to keep an eye on Lady Sansa and Lady Arya and prevent any more sisterly squabbles, especially with Little Finger lurking about like an overgrown bat at every turn. Lady Sansa had insisted though and Brienne had begrudgingly had to admit defeat whilst she tried not to go red when Lady Sansa suggested that Tormund would be more than happy to assist her. That was another reason why she didn't want to go because in Winterfell she could sneak away whenever she saw that flash of red hair but that would prove difficult if she was stuck in Tormund's own camp with him. It wasn't that he was horrible to her, quite the opposite, but that was half the problem; Brienne knew how to deal with nasty little shits. Whatever it was that Tormund was doing she really had no comprehension of and it was just easier all round if she just stayed out of the way until he left. In fact, Brienne was so busy pretending that she wasn't feeling anxious and nervous about spending a whole two days with Tormund that she completely missed the sound of footfalls sneaking up behind her.

"Lady Brienne," a voice said and Brienne almost jumped out of her skin she was so preoccupied trying not to think about Tormund and she turned around to find Petyr Baelish smirking at her from the top of the stairwell.

He only called her "Lady Brienne" to belittle her and due to the fact that he knew that it annoyed her because Brienne wasn't a lady. The last thing Brienne had wanted to do with her life was sitting about in Tarth bored out of her mind with some insipid husband telling her what to do all day long. She wanted to be out in the world seeing things, helping people and trying to do whatever she could to assist Jon Snow in the war that was creeping ever closer to them. It must have shown on her face that the moniker irritated her because Little Finger's smirk grew even wider as he stood on the top step and looked down at her like he was Lord of bloody Winterfell.

"Lord Baelish," Brienne replied curtly before turning back to her horse and tightening the saddle straps; the last person she wanted to talk to this early in the morning was that conniving little man. Unfortunately, Little Finger seemed insistent on ruining her day and he made his way down towards the stables before Brienne was finished and able to lead her horse away.

"So kind of you to offer assistance to our new primitive friends," he said as Brienne balked at his choice of words; the Wildlings were hardly running round in loincloths and beating each other over the head with clubs, "I'm sure they'll be of great assistance in the war to come."

Then he smirked again and Brienne scowled at him; the Wildlings had given their lives to defend Winterfell even when the Battle of the Bastards had nothing to do with them and where had Little Finger been? Probably sat in his grand tower with a whore or two waiting for the opportune moment to ride to the rescue and steal all the glory for himself. It was this kind of attitude that made Brienne loath men like him as he was quite happy to sit about and let others die just so he wouldn't have to get his pristine hands dirty. Little finger seemed to be implying that the Wildlings were expendable just because they preferred to live in tents rather than in stone walled castles and Brienne's frown deepened. The grand Lord Baelish probably wouldn't last five minutes out in the wilderness all by himself without his fancy clothes and various minions to do his bidding Brienne thought smugly whilst Baelish pretended to take a great interest in her horse.

"I do as Lady Sansa bids me," Brienne replied, hoping that he would just go away or that Pod would hurry up and get out of bed so that they could leave, "And the Wildlings make up most of Jon Snow's army in case you'd forgotten; it wouldn't do to leave them out in the path of the White Walkers now would it?"

Baelish smiled at her again, like he knew something she didn't, and it made Brienne even more uneasy about leaving Lady Sansa alone with him. It was the way he looked at her; like when a fox found its way into an unguarded hen house. Why wouldn't he just go back to the Vale and take care of that horrid Arryn boy she keeps hearing about? Without warning, Baelish quickly pulled the reins from her grip and Brienne has to force herself to remain calm as he holds them just out of her reach; taunting her ever so slightly. 

"I'd be careful Lady Brienne if I were you; the Wildlings aren't like you and me," Baelish whispered as he moved in front of her and blocked her from leaving the stables, "They're savages who've been left alone in the wilderness for too long and they take what they want when they want."

If he was trying to scare her then he was doing a pretty poor job of it; the camp was mainly full of children and old people. The Wildlings knew she was coming to help them anyway and it wasn't as if they were going to drag her off her horse the moment she and Pod rode into their camp.

"I think I'm more than capable of looking after myself," Brienne said as she yanked the reins back from him but when she tried to lead her horse out Baelish still wouldn't move.

"What the Bolton soldiers almost did to you was such a terrible thing," Little Finger said, grabbing her hand and patting it like he was trying to comfort her but his fingers dug deep into the back of her riding gloves, "I hear that the Wildling chief has taken a great liking to you, imagine that, but perhaps it would be best to be on your guard tonight. You won't have Ser Jamie to save you this time if anything should go… wrong."

Brienne pulled her hand free from his grip; her face burning red with embarrassment and anger. How did Little Finger know about what had happened to her when she had been captured by the Boltons? She'd pushed those memories as far out of her mind as she could but now it was all bubbling to the surface and Brienne struggled to keep a lid on her emotions. The clawed scar on her shoulder had started to itch with phantom pain and her hands started to shake slightly as Little Finger smiled blandly at her. The reference to Tormund made her blush even further; did everybody know about that? Great, now the whole of Winterfell was probably making fun of her behind her back and asking themselves how anyone, even a Wildling, could be interested in "Brienne the Beauty".

"Thank you for your concern Lord Baelish," Brienne said through gritted teeth, "But as I said; I can take care of my self."

To prove her point she'd already moved her thumb and pushed the hilt of her sword up, watching in satisfaction as Little Fingers eyes widened slightly when the steel glinted in the moonlight. As much as she would like to stab him straight through the neck Brienne had more pressing matters to attend to, but it was nice to see him scuttle half a step away from her. Hopefully, he would keep on scuttling all the way back to the Vale but she really didn't hold out much hope for that. Baelish was glaring at her, that perfect fake mask of his slipping slightly, and looked like he was about to say something else when a noise sounded out behind him.

"Milady?" It was Pod; still looking half asleep but his eyes fell on Brienne's sword and Lord Baelish's look of annoyance, "Perhaps we should be on our way now?"

"Of course," Little finger replied silkily as he slid away from Brienne so she could finally move her horse out not the yard, "Safe travels to you and your squire Lady Brienne, I look forward to when you're back amongst your own people."

He smiled that horrid smug smile of his and Brienne just about had the good grace not to roll her eyes at him as she swung herself up onto her horse and sped off out of the gate; Pod following close at her heels. It was still hours before dawn and they had a long ride ahead of them to the disused farmlands where the Wildlings had made their camp and the heavy snow fall wasn't helping. They'd barely gone a few miles and Brienne was already freezing even beneath her thick cloak and she could hear Pods teeth chattering beside her.

"Come on Pod," she called as she urged her horse through the snow, "It's not that cold."

It bloody well was cold but Brienne wasn't about to let Pod see that a little bit of snow had gotten underneath her skin and they pushed on in silence. Pod knew better than to ask her about what Little Finger was up to and Brienne relished the silence to try and sort her head out a little bit. Knowing that she was about to spend a full two days with Tormund was making her old insecurities rise to the surface and Brienne started to feel flustered once more the closer they got to the camp. Maybe she could just get Pod to do all the talking? No, that was a terrible idea; Brienne would just have to act professional and get on with it. Finally, after what felt like hours, they neared the edge of the field that the Wildlings had chosen as their makeshift dwelling but as they came around the corner Brienne spotted a lone figure clad in a thick fur coat waiting for them by the side of the trail. Unexpectedly, her stomach did a little flip of anticipation but as they rode closer Brienne found it was an elderly looking tribesman that was waiting for them; his graying ginger hair already flecked with snow and he barely batted an eyelid at the icy wind that was slicing into Brienne's skin. Slowing her horse to a stop Brienne climbed off her horse and landed in a puddle of slushy snow water and her feet almost turned into ice cubes. Behind her Pod had been even less lucky with his landing and promptly lost his footing and fallen over on a patch of ice.

"Hello, I am Brienne of Tarth," Brienne introduced herself as the Wildling waited for Pod to pick himself up from where he'd fallen, "And this is my squire Podrick."

"We know who you are Lady Crow," the man grumbled, "Names Dim Dalba and I'll be making sure none of my lot give you any trouble today."

Oddly Brienne found herself both relieved and disappointed that Tormund hadn't been the one that was meeting them considering he was their leader after all but maybe this was how it was done amongst the Wildlings? When she'd first seen that flash of ginger hair on Dim Dalba she'd thought… well, it didn't matter what she thought because Brienne was here to do her duty and she didn't have time to worry about what Tormund Giantsbane was up to.

"Lady Crow?" Brienne queried, "Ser I think-"

"It's what the Free Folk call the Knights Watch Milady," Pod broke in quickly whilst Brienne looked at him in confusion; she wasn't in the bloody Knights Watch!

"Ain't no Ser's here Lady Crow," Dim Dalba chuckled, "We know you're not in the Knights Watch but we've heard stories about King Crows Spear-Wife; stories 'bout how you wrestled a bear and mowed down four of those Bolton fuckers so Lady Crow it is."

He said this as though it was final and Brienne knew better than to argue with the camp elder; she could put up with being "Lady Crow" for a few days and it didn't sound half as condescending as when Little Finger called her lady. She would, however, like to know just how everyone seemed to know about that bloody bear and her rescue of Lady Sansa. Thankfully Dim Dalba seemed impressed by her prowess with a sword and not mildly horrified like most people were when they found out that a Lady was hacking people to bits; regardless of whether they deserved it or not. From Brienne's admittedly limited knowledge of Wildling culture, she knew that a Spear-Wife was the term the Wildlings called their female warriors, so at least she wouldn't have to convince anyone that she wasn't actually Jon Snow's wife. Either way, it was more than a little cold to be just standing about like this and Brienne would very much like to be on their way before they all froze to death. She'd even been about to get back up onto her horse when Dim Dalba let out a very audible sigh behind them.

"You won't be needing that," he said as he pointed to the horses they were about to climb back onto, "It's walking from ‘ere on out."

"Walking?" Pod fretted as he looked over at the steadily deepening snow drifts, "But it'll take us ages to walk through all that!"

"Fine; then you can be the one to bash it's ‘ead in with a rock when it slips over in the snow and breaks it's fucking legs," Dim Dalba growled at him, "Snow's no place for ‘orses. Leave ‘em behind or you can fuck off home and we'll take care of ourselves."

Judging by how the deep the snow seemed to get further on up the track Brienne had to grudgingly admit that they had been silly to bring the horses in the first place. Dim Dalba watched them silently as Brienne took everything out of the saddle bags that they possibly might need and strapped them onto Pod who shivered miserably in the snow. Most of it was too bulky to carry, including her tick sleeping blanket, and Brienne really wished that they could just get moving because whilst Dim Dalba might be used to standing about in the freezing cold, herself and Pod most certainly were not.

"So cold," Pod muttered as his teeth clanked together and Brienne was inclined to agree with him as she could no longer feel her own feet.

"Cold? This ain't cold lad," Dim Dalba scoffed as Pod began to shiver violently, "You want to go up to the Frost Fangs and have your piss freeze before your eyes if you want to know what real cold is."

He looked distinctly unimpressed by the pair of them; almost as if he'd been given a pair of useless imbeciles that he didn't quite know what to do with. Brienne's choice of outfit which was leathers, a thick heavy cloak, and leather riding boots seemed to bother him immensely as well and he looked her up and down; frowning as he did so.

"What the fuck 'ave you got on your feet lady Crow?" the Elder asked as he stared at Brienne's leather boots which were admittedly doing little to stop her feet from freezing, "You won't get far in those, not in this weather."

Then he gave a sharp whistle and three young Wildling men appeared as if from nowhere and were standing right in front of them before Brienne even had time to place her hand on the hilt of her sword. It was a tad disconcerting but Brienne couldn't help but be impressed at how silent the Wildlings had been and how they clearly used the snow to their advantage; unlike herself and Pod had been able to do. Neither of them was tall enough to be Tormund and Brienne couldn't decide if she was relieved or disappointed about that fact.

"Get the Lady Crow and her lad some proper boots," Dim Dalba instructed as the three men gave her a quick glance and nodded, "And make sure those bastard Hornfoots have stopped fucking singing!"

Then they were gone again; disappearing into the snow without a trace before Brienne could barely even blink. It suddenly dawned on her that they had been very foolish to think that the Wildlings would just let them walk into their camp without so much as a by your leave. They'd probably been watching them right from the moment they set out from Winterfell; that's why Dim Dalba had been waiting for them.

"You'd get an arrow in your forehead if I just let you wander straight into camp," Dim Dalba grumbled as if he knew what she was thinking, "We've got little'uns running about and my people don't take too kindly to strange folk."

"We're just here to help," Brienne said honestly but Dim Dalba merely grunted like he'd heard that before so Brienne didn't press the issue.

The wind was really picking up now and Pod was in danger of being blown over so Brienne adjusted some to the baggage she'd attached to him. They'd brought two tents with them but Brienne had had to leave one behind because it would have been too much for Pod to carry; she could put up with his snoring for one night. Dim Dalba watched them with mild curiosity as he continued to stand ankle deep in the snow and seemed entirely unfazed by the harsh conditions. Brienne had been about to ask him what the plan was for moving the camp when the three Wildlings were back; popping up beside her like they'd sprung up out of the ground and carrying two pairs of heavy, fur lined boots.

"Take Lady Crow's and the lad's horses back," Dim Dalba told them as Brienne quickly changed her footwear and stowed her boots into one of the remaining saddle bags.

Then he started speaking to the three men in a completely different language and Brienne and Pod waited patiently until Dim Dalba sent them on their way and abruptly started walking away down the snowy path; leaving Brienne and Pod jogging to catch up with him. For an elderly man he moved quickly through the snow and even Brienne with her long legs was struggling to keep up with him. The boots were a godsend though and her toes were already starting to feel less numb and she was beginning to wish she'd asked to borrow one of their thick coats as well. Beside her, Pod kept managing to find all the icy patches and was continually falling over much to Brienne's chagrin.

"Walk where I'm walking Lad," Dim Dalba instructed as Pod hurried to follow his footfalls, "Otherwise my lot will think you're a right cock if you keep falling over."

There were fewer incidents after that and as Pod squelched along behind them, Brienne tried to get some plan of action out of Dim Dalba. However, the elder just shrugged and told her "we're fucking walking Lady Crow" and carried on whilst Brienne tried to press the matter. This was a delicate operation and Brienne didn't want anything to go wrong or to cause offense because she wasn't properly prepared.

"It'll be fine lady Crow," Dim Dalba said as they rounded a corner and Brienne suddenly found herself face to face with about five thousand Wildlings, "We'll look after you and the lad."

It was a bit of a shock seeing so many of them together and Brienne couldn't help but notice that they were all staring at her but it wasn't the usual "What on earth is that?!" look Brienne usually got; it was suspicion. Before she could say anything to address this, Pod came skidding down the snow bank behind them and landed with a thud near Brienne's feet causing the amassed tribe to erupt with laughter. Great, Brienne thought as she hauled Pod to his feet, bloody great start they've made. Dim Dalba shook his head at them then moved forward and started shouting things in various languages and one by one, pockets of the tribe began to peel off and make their way across the snowy fields. It was actually quite fascinating to watch as sleds carrying food, tents and various other assortments were pulled along by teams of men as children ran along side them.

"They won't follow you Lady Crow so I'll leave you to make sure none gets left behind," Dim Dalba said as he pulled his hood up, "Chiefs gone on ahead so if you get any problems just tell em to fuck off."

"Wait, just what exactly-" But it was too late; Dim Dalba had already merged into the crowd whilst the rest of the Wildlings hurried on past them and glanced suspiciously over at Brienne and Pod as they did so.

"Come along Podrick," Brienne said resignedly as a band of children ran past them; laughing and pointing at Pod as he almost slipped over again.

After that they walked for what seemed like hours with no sign of stopping and Brienne was beginning to struggle; how did they have the stamina to do this over and over again? From what she's picked up the Wildlings would migrate to different camps as the seasons changed to find better hunting grounds and to escape the ever present threat of the Nights Watch. Even the little children seemed used to the seemingly never ending walking and they ran through the crowds like they had wings on their feet. Nobody talked to either Pod or Brienne and at the most, all they got were some curious glances and it hadn't escaped Brienne's notice that all the snatches of conversation she had heard were not spoken in the common tongue. It hurt a lot more than she was willing to let on to be regarded with such suspicion and animosity and she said as much to Pod.

"You'd think we were driving them to their doom," Brienne muttered as an elderly woman hurried past them; dragging a small boy by the hand in her haste to catch up to the rest of the tribe, "We're only here to help."

"But that's what they used to do Milady," Pod explained as they waited for the rapidly moving tribe to continue on by, "Rangers would go out and round up villages of Free Folk, promising them shelter beyond the Wall only to drive them off cliffs or torch them in boats."

"How do you know all this? " Brienne queried as they stopped to let a group of small children dart ahead of them.

"Tormund told me Milady." Pod said mildly as Brienne's eyebrows shot up to her hairline and her face blushed a little; since when did Pod and Tormund even get aquatinted with each other?!

"When?!" Brienne asked as she tried not to get flustered and annoyed at the thought of her squire and Tormund being alone without her being there to make sure nothing happened. Her ears were starting to go red at the thought of Pod and Tormund alone… talking to each other…anything could have been said. Not that she expected that Tormund spent his days grilling people for information about her but… well… Pod still shouldn't have gone!

"He took me down here to introduce me to the Free Folk when you were busy with Lady Sansa, Pod explained, "He said the Free Folk were stubborn ba- stubborn people and that they'd need to know that they could trust us; all of us."

"Why didn't he ask me?" Brienne asked as her voice went a little high pitched and she turned red again but thankfully Pod was too busy trying not to fall over to notice.

"He didn't think you'd come Milady," Pod said as he found his footing once more, "All though he did ask about you. A lot."

Brienne couldn't think of anything to say to that so instead, she marched on ahead whilst Pod hastened to catch up with her. She would have come down to the camp if she was asked to but clearly, for some reason or another, Tormund had preferred to ask Pod. After that, they walked in silence whilst Brienne mulled over what Pod had said; did the Wildlings really think that she was about to march them to their death? The Nights Watch was supposed to be an honorable service, or so she had been led to believe and looking at the crowds of mostly unarmed women and children she was having a hard time understanding their reasoning behind the mass murder of innocent people. No wonder they all looked so wary of her and Brienne suddenly felt guilty that she hadn't offered to come down into the camp herself to get to know the people here a bit more. Perhaps then they wouldn't be so apprehensive around her.

"Do you think the Wildlings-" Brienne started to ask as a little girl skipped ahead of them but Pod cut across her.

"I think they prefer to be called the Free Folk milady," Pod he said as he tried to walk through the heavy snowbank, "Wildlings is the name we've given them and I don't think they like it much."

Oh, Brienne thought; she didn't know that and then felt the heat rise to her face once more when her own words came back to haunt her; "That Wildling fellow with the beard." Brienne hadn't realized that she was being offensive and thankfully Tormund hadn't been around to hear them. Speaking of which, they hadn't seen Tormund all day; not that Brienne had been on the look out for a tell-tale flash of red hair amongst the throngs of people. Moving such a large amount of people required a lot of effort and coordination and Tormund was clearly needed elsewhere. Maybe they would see him at dinner whenever that might be and Brienne trudged onwards with the rest of the tribe; her head now a swirling mass of thoughts. Tormund's behavior, whilst never outrightly offensive, had been an unwelcome annoyance because it seemed that no matter how far she went away from Tarth, the bullies would always find her. It was only after Lady Sansa had patiently explained that Tormund was clearly not making fun of her that Brienne felt even more awkward and uncomfortable. In some respects, she almost wished that he'd charged at her with an axe or called her some crude name like all the other men did because that she knew how to deal with. The correct thing to do would be to talk to Tormund about it but Brienne was terrible at things like that and, having never been in this situation before, what would she even say?! Every possible scenario she had run through in her head just ended up sounding silly or she imagined him laughing cruelly at her and telling her that she was a beast and it was all for sport. Realistically she knew that Tormund would never be that unkind but it was easier to think the worst rather than to think that someone might actually be interested in her.

"Milady?" Pod called breaking Brienne out of her thought mode and she realized that the Free Folk seemed to have at last stopped moving, "I think they've stopped now."

"Yes I can see that Pod," Brienne muttered as she pulled him out of the way of one of the sleds.

In the time that they had been walking the sun had risen and fallen and it was now almost pitch black, save for the campfires that were steadily springing into life. The rest of the camp was already taking shape around them and whilst Brienne was keen to see just how they got those massive animal skin tents up, she had her own sleeping arrangements to worry about. The tent she'd packed was small but it would do for one evening and it was better than sleeping outside in the snow, even though Brienne would have much preferred her own feather bed for the night. Dim Dalba was waiting for them with a group of young Free Folk men whilst Brienne and Pod struggled up the last bit of the snowy hill; their breath misting up the air in front of them.

"I'm quite capable of putting a tent up thank you," Brienne said before Dim Dalba could instruct his men to start putting up one of their own for her, "Come along Pod."

"‘Ave it your way Lady Crow," Dim Dalba said as he and the other Free Folk headed back to their admittedly warm looking tent, "You know where I am if you'll be wanting a roof over your ‘ead tonight."

Brienne smiled at him; thanking him for his concern and reassuring him that she was in no need of assistance and there was no need to put himself out. Once he'd left Pod dropped all the bags he was carrying with a loud groan and dutifully started unpacking their tent whilst Brienne supervised. Ignoring the small group of Wildlings that had gathered around them to watch, Brienne set about directing Pod on how to pitch a tent properly. She had chosen a spot a little way away from the camp, under the tree line so as not to be intrusive and let the Free Folk have their privacy. Whilst on the road looking for the Stark girls they had mainly slept in ditches or an Inn when they could find one and Pod was already having trouble following her instructions having never built a tent before. Near them, the Wildlings were pointing and talking amongst themselves in a strange language but Brienne soldered on; she was used to people muttering things about her under their breath.

"We're fine thank you," Brienne called as an elderly Wildling edged closer to them and started pointing to the trees and then back to the tent that Pod was still trying to put up.

When the tent was finally put up it looked somewhat disheveled it was only then that Brienne realized how thin it looked compared to the Wildlings thick, animal hide ones. In fact, it looked wrinkled, flappy and sad looking and Brienne really was not looking forward to spending the night in it. Dim Dalba gave her a very pitying look when he came to shoo away the little group of children that had gathered around to watch Pod hammer in the tent pegs. He kept hitting his thumb more often than the actual peg and had tripped over in the snow more than once much to their amusement. Brienne was stubborn though and she was going to bloody well sleep in that tent even if it meant that she had to huddle up closer than she'd like to with Pod for warmth. However just as she was about to inspect the inside of the tent, a huge mound of snow fell from one of the tree branches and flattened half of it; now she realized what the elderly Wildling had been trying to warn her about.

"You sure you don't want one of our tents, Lady Crow?" Dim Dalba asked whilst Pod looked forlornly at the broken tent.

"I'm not a-" Brienne grumbled but she was already being steered away from her sorry excuse of a tent and led into the back into the main encampment.

The Wildlings seemed to have some sort of system known only to them as to how they arranged themselves into all the different tribes, clans and elders and Brienne ended up hovering awkwardly with Pod as fires blazed into life, elaborate animal skinned tents were erected and chunks of unknown meat thrown into cooking pots. Having been in many a military camp Brienne was already dreading the filthy conditions; she'd seen many a rat scurry past her foot when she'd been in Renly's encampment but much to her delight the Free folk were anything but unclean. Everything appeared to have a place and Brienne watched as boots were removed before entering tents, children's hands and faces washed and meat scraps weren't carelessly thrown to the ground but meticulously cleaned away. There was a great sense of community about the place with people popping in and out of each other's tents, sharing food and helping each other to construct their huge tents.

"What you doing stood over there Lady Crow?" Dim Dalba called from his own tent, "You won't get fed standing about like that."

Pod was practically running towards the fire and it was all Brienne could do to keep up with him; her soggy clock sticking to her as she walked.

"Fuck off," Dim Dalba growled and two young boys instantly went running back to their own tents leaving Brienne and Pod with a rather toasty spot by the camp fire.

The heat from the campfire seemed to suck in the frigid air before it ever reached their frozen hands and fierce looking woman with long white hair added more wood and poked it with a long stick. It seemed to die a little as if unsure of itself and Brienne was worried it was about to go out when it licked at the new logs like a nervous kitten and then erupted into huge orange flames. A pot of some kind of stew was hanging above the fire and the white haired woman scooped out two bowlfuls and handed them to Brienne and Pod; her stern eyes watching them carefully. Taking the steaming bowl with trepidation Brienne noted that it appeared to be made out of the skull of some kind of animal. The spoon she'd been given also looked like it was carved from bone and Brienne tried not to look too apprehensive. Her old wet nurse used to tell her stories about the cannibal tribes that fought each other and ate whoever had the misfortune to lose the battle. It must have shown on her face how unsure she was because the rest of the Free Folk that were gathered around the camp fire were all watching her and they didn't look happy. You're being rude Brienne scolded herself and she picked up a bone spoon and dug into her stew; it was delicious. Thankfully it must have shown on her face because the rest of the Free Folk started talking amongst themselves again once more whilst Brienne finished off her food. There was a loud slurping noise next to her and Brienne looked over at Pod who was practically licking the bowl clean.

"Thank you, it was lovely," Brienne said as she wrestled the empty bowl from Pods grip and handed it over with her own to the elderly woman, "What was the meat? I've never tasted anything like that before."

"Whale," Dim Dalba said as he spooned the remains of the stew into an empty bowl and gave a piercing whistle, "Bet you don't have that this side of the Wall Lady Crow!"

Whilst Brienne was left to wonder how an earth they'd gotten whale meat all the way from the frozen North a young boy suddenly appeared at Dim Dalba's elbow and they started conversing in a different language. She hadn't been taking much notice until she heard Tormund's name mentioned at least three times and the bowl of stew was pressed into the boy's hands.

"And tell those bastard Hornfoots no more fucking singing," Dim Dalba shouted as the boy turned to leave, "I've fucking told ‘em before we even fucking set off!"

The young boy nodded and scurried away through the sea of tents leaving Brienne stomach to turn over in knots at the fact that Tormund might be making an appearance. If he acted the way he did around her at Winterfell than Brienne would probably die of embarrassment; she'd come to realize just how blunt the Free Folk could be even if she was getting used to all the swearing. If she were to have a conversation with Tormund she would prefer it to be in a more private setting rather than in the middle of the Wildlings campsite. Time ticked on and when half an hour later Tormund still hadn't appeared Brienne began to relax somewhat; until Dim Dalba told her whose tent she would be sleeping in for the night.

"Look Lady Crow we don't have enough tents to go around and "I'll not be having King Crow say the Free Folk left his Spear-Wife to freeze to death out in't snow," Dim Dalba grumbled, "Chief'll be away all night doing the Long Walk to make sure we've got everyone and that those fucking Thenn's keep their hands to themselves."

Of course, the only spare tent they had would just happen to be Tormund's and Brienne tried and failed, to explain to Dim Dalba why it wasn't the done thing for an unmarried lady to sleep in another man's bed. Whilst she knew that she was being ridiculous and judging by the looks on the Free Folks faces they thought so as well but Brienne just couldn't seem to stop herself; what if Tormund came back in the middle of the night?!

"What about Pod?" Brienne asked desperately, "Where's he going to sleep?".

Dim Dalba made a funny clicking noise with his tongue and a group of young Free Folk suddenly appeared as if from nowhere, grabbed Pod by the arm and started pulling him towards a tent down the opposite end of the camp. They all had their hoods up but Brienne was certain she heard a distinctive female giggle amongst them; not that Pod seemed to mind.

"Don't get drunk!" Brienne called out but he had already disappeared off into the night.

"Don't worry Lady Crow," Dim Dalba chuckled as he led her over to a large looking tent near his own, "Young'n will all right with that lot; We know you Southerners get right funny about stuff like that."

Then he just left her standing there whilst he headed back to his own tent and Brienne with no choice but to make her way into the tent before she froze to death. Pulling the entrance flap back she cautiously crept inside and tried not to get muddy snow all over the floor with her huge boots. Once inside Brienne was pleasantly surprised at warm it already was in there; the animal hide must form some kind of insulation and her feet were already beginning to sweat in her fur boots. Venturing further in she found that everything was impeccably neat and organized; right down to the rather large axe that was propped up against one side of the tent. A pair of huge fur lined boots were set out near the entrance and Brienne pulled her own off to avoid tracking mud into the nice clean tent. The floor was made out of some kind of animal hide that had been worked and stretched out to lie flat on the ground so that no moisture could seep through; much unlike her own soggy tent. Holding up the tent were what appeared to be thick, heavy set animal tusks that were even taller than Brienne and she couldn't help but take a closer look. Ser Davos had mentioned that a lot of the Free Folk used mammoths to move about on and Brienne had to admit that it was a pretty ingenious structure. It was also, thankfully, very warm and within minutes she had stripped down to her tunic and breeches; setting her cold, wet clothes carefully to one side at the back of the tent. Her chambers at Winterfell were more than a tad draughty and Brienne found that she was no longer wishing for her feather bed as she wandered over to the side of the tent that was lined with an assortment of furs and blankets. It looked very inviting but she was still little hesitant to actually get in it; what if Tormund came back? Well if he came back now he'd find her stood there in barely anything more than her underclothes so Brienne quickly darted beneath the thick heavy furs.

Warmth spread through her frozen body and the soft furs were even more comfortable than she could have thought possible and Brienne settled in for the night as she rubbed her face against the soft pelt. It also didn't escape her notice that they had a very manly smell about them; like firewood and something musky but it wasn't altogether unpleasant, quite the opposite in fact. Not that Brienne had ever shared a bed with a man to know what a male person's bed should smell like or anything else for that matter. For some strange reason, it was oddly comforting, a notion which confused and reassured her at the same time and Brienne wrapped the furs even tighter around herself. She'd eventually come to accept that Tormund's advances and bizarre attempts at courting really did come from the heart and were not just some horrible joke that he was playing on her. Being the object of someones very intense affections was something of a foreign concept to Brienne and she wasn't all that sure how to deal with it. That type of attention was reserved for pretty ladies of the court; not a great hulking beast like her as she was constantly reminded. She, and Arya for that matter, had gotten the shock of her life when Sandor Clegane had turned up back at Winterfell with the rest of the idiots that had gone with Jon Snow beyond the Wall. The shock had quickly turned to irritation as the Hound spent a gleeful afternoon teasing her that she was Tormund's "Blue eyed beauty" and Brienne had seriously considered finding another cliff to push him off of. At first, she had assumed that Clegane was referring to someone else, some Wildling girl that Torment had moved onto because never in her life had Brienne been called beautiful without there being some cruel jibe behind it. She'd almost knocked Clegane's front teeth out for fear that she was becoming the punchline to yet another cruel joke until Pod had quietly asserted that this was true.

"He calls you that all the time Milady," Pod had told her once the Hound and the rest of them had cleared off to bed, "He asked me if there was a special place in the South were great beauties like yourself were born."

Brienne had turned increasingly more red as Pod began to relay just what exactly Tormund had been saying about her. In the end, she'd had to make him stop under the guise of going out to practice his sword fighting skills before he inadvertently embarrassed her any further. By some stroke of luck, Tormund hadn't been with Jon Snow and the rest when they returned; the Free Folk had been getting fidgety and nervous without their leader and he'd gone straight back to the camp without stepping foot in Winterfell. Not that Brienne was bothered about seeing him but it just would have been nice to check that they were all ok. A sense of dread had hit her straight in the chest when she'd watched them all troop back in, minus the red headed Wildling, and it must have shown on her face because Jon Snow started loudly explaining that Tormund had gone to check on the rest of the Free Folk. Whilst she was glad that they were all ok, even Clegane, Brienne couldn't believe how unbelievably stupid they'd all been and they were lucky they'd only lost one member of their team and the poor dragon. Brienne had said as much to Lady Sansa who had merely smiled at her and assured her that they would see Tormund at the small council meeting that Jon Snow was holding the next day. That hadn't been that she meant but her protests had fallen on deaf ears as Lady Sansa continued to smile at her and repeated her insistence that Brienne attend the meeting with her tomorrow. Tormund was already there when Brienne crept in with Pod but he was locked in a serious discussion with Jon Snow and thankfully didn't notice her slip quickly into her seat. He'd had a big cut on his forehead and looked rather tired but none the worse for wear; Brienne had ended up hovering near the back of the room due to the Hound deciding that he and Tormund were now the best of friends. Clegane had repeatedly called Tormund a "Ginger Twat" but he didn't seem to mind and Brienne had supposed it was some kind of strange male bonding thing.

"See he's fine," Lady Sansa had whispered on her way out of the hall as she hastened to catch up to Sandor Clegane and before Brienne could reiterate the fact that she wasn't interested in that way.

It wasn't that Tormund was unattractive it was just that Brienne was busy; busy trying to stop the Stark girls from killing each other and making sure that Little Finger didn't outstay his welcome then to be day dreaming about some strange man she hardly knew. Even if he did think that she was beautiful then that was beside the point and even though Brienne wasn't entirely sure what that point was supposed to be. Pulling the fur covers even tighter around herself Brienne stared at the sloping roof of the tent as the noise from the people outside became reduced to a low hum. Maybe she should just tell him to leave her alone? She could do that but it was just that she didn't want to, not really, and although Tormund made her nervous and uncomfortable it was never in a bad way; she just got flustered and unsure of herself whenever he was in the immediate vicinity. There was still that niggle in the back of her head, that seed of doubt that she didn't think would ever go away, that this was all some kind of big joke. Rolling over Brienne shut her eyes tight and tried to push all thoughts of Tormund Giantsbane out of her head as the noise of the camp carried her off to sleep almost instantly.

It felt like only minutes later when Brienne jolted awake, immediately feeling disorientated and confused as to why she was asleep in a tent as opposed to her nice warm bed back at Winterfell. Free Folk. Moving camp. Pod incapable of putting a tent up correctly; it was all coming back to her now. The noise of the camp had died down to almost nothing and the darkness surrounding her told Brienne that she must have been asleep for a good couple of hours. Tiredness from all that walking washed over her and Brienne's eyes fell shut once more, sleep almost upon her when something poked her gently in the face. It's nothing she told herself groggily, probably just the wind, and Brienne even let out a sleepy snore as she slid back into unconsciousness; huddling down underneath the warm furs. Barely a second later and she was awake again but this time Brienne was sure she felt something on her face. Just as Brienne was convincing herself it had been her own snoring that had woken her up there was another sharp poke to her face and this time Brienne knew that there was someone else in here with her. It wasn't exactly difficult to work out who that person was and her teeth clenched together in anger; this might be Tormund's tent but that doesn't give him the right to paw all over her whilst she slept! Those vile Bolton's had tried to force themselves on her and Brienne would be damned if she let another man, woman or beast touch her like that again. Movement sounded on the other side of the tent and her heart thudded in her chest as she heard someone stepping lightly about the tent. Carefully moving her hand down between her legs Brienne removed the small dagger that she now kept there at all times; there might not be enough time to go for her sword but a dagger could do just as much damage when held in the right hands. They're all the same, she thought bitterly as she held the dagger tight against her chest, all of them just wanting to make sure that all Brienne was good for was to mocked, made fun off and abused. Of course, Tormund didn't think she was beautiful and she'd been foolish to think otherwise; Brienne was just a bit of meat that he thought that he could take his share of and then be done with. He might be the leader of the Free Folk and one of Jon Snow's closet friends but Brienne wasn't about to just lay there and let him do whatever he wanted to her; regardless of the fact that she was surrounded by thousands of Wildlings who would most likely rise up and defend their fallen leader, Brienne edged the fur covering back and prepared to strike. 

"Daddy?" a little voice whispered in the darkness and Brienne froze; the dagger falling silently from her grasp.

Oh.

"Shhh Little Mouse," Tormund whispered and Brienne had to strain her ears to hear him, "It's time for sleep."

The sound of furs rustling back and forth hit Brienne's ears and the tension eased from her shoulders a somewhat. Peeling the thick, heavy furs back a little Brienne sneaked a quick look over at the other side of the tent but all she could really see was Tormund's back. Of all the things she expected, a child was most certainly not one of them.

"In you get Little Mouse," Tormund said softly, "Come on, make room for your sister."

Sister?!

"Daddy," a second little voice, "Why can't you stay in here with us?"

"Because daddy has to make sure we haven't left anyone behind," Tormund said quietly and Brienne watched as he arranged the furs tightly around the two small children, "You'll be safe here."

"But what if the White Walkers come and eat us when you're not here?" the little voice said and Brienne could hear the fear in her voice. Maybe she should alert Tormund to the fact that she was awake and offer to sleep somewhere else? Or allow him to sleep in here with them, on the floor of course, so that his children wouldn't sound so frightened. Brienne was just debating throwing the fur covers back and announcing that she would gladly sleep outside when Tormund started speaking again.

"Nothings going to eat you Little Mouse," Tormund sighed and Brienne couldn't help but notice how sad he sounded and it hit her like a punch in the gut that this must have been a regular conversation he had with his daughters before they made the perilous journey to the Wall, "Do you want to know why?"

"Why?"

"Because the King Crow's Spear-Wife that's come to help us has a magic sword," Tormund said and Brienne could hear two little gasps of amazement, "If any White Walkers dare step foot in here then she'll cut their heads clean off and turn them into icicles."

"Wow!" one of them whispered; sounding completely awestruck and Brienne couldn't help but blush. It wasn't often that someone sounded so confident in her fighting abilities; usually, she was met with scorn and ridicule even after they had seen her take down men like they were nothing more than saplings.

"I'll be right outside with Dim Dalba so you'll be perfectly safe," Tormund said quietly, "Now go to sleep."

Brienne ducked back down underneath the furs whilst Tormund was leaning over and kissing his children goodnight so that he wouldn't notice that he had an active audience. A brief gust of cold air hit her face as the entrance to the tent opened briefly and then all was quiet. Well, apart from the excited whispering coming from the bed opposite and Brienne could distinctly hear the phrase "Magic Sword" banding about more than once. Gradually the whispering died down and she was left listening to sound of the wind blowing outside and the gentle murmuring of voices coming from the other tents. So; Tormund was a doting father and not a savage rapist as that conniving Petyr Baelish had tried to get her to believe. Rolling onto her back Brienne stared at the roof of the tent as shame washed over her; what if she'd leaped out of bed and stabbed Tormund when all he had been doing was putting his children to bed?! What if she'd murdered him in front of his two little girls?! Prejudice, that's what it was and she'd fallen right into Little Finger's trap of thinking that the Free Folk were just wild, uncultured savages just like everybody else in the Seven Kingdoms. Yes, Tormund was a little forward in his advances but realistically Brienne knew that he would never actually rape her. Granted they hadn't actually had a proper conversation yet and their relationship was more Tormund staring wistfully at her or making her feel flustered when she was trying to teach Pod some basic swordsmanship. Deep down in her gut, Brienne knew that he was a good man but that didn't mean that she still wasn't a little bit hurt. If there were children then there must be a mother hidden away in the camp somewhere. Maybe the Free Folk took many wives and lovers and it wasn't so much of a big deal to them as it was this side of the Wall. Or perhaps Brienne had just gotten everything all wrong and Tormund hadn't been interested in her in the first place? Yes, thats probably it Brienne thought bitterly and she'd been stupid and foolish to think that perhaps just this once she was deemed desirable to another human being.

"You are such an idiot," she muttered to herself as she rolled over and fell back into a restless sleep.

Brienne awoke sometime later to find two small children perched on the end of her bed; one of them almost nose to nose with her and peering at her intently in the darkness. They were tiny little things and Brienne suddenly felt even more like a giant than she normally did as they looked at her curiously. It was still pitch black outside and Brienne didn't think she'd been asleep for that long and suddenly her heart began to race at the thought of Tormund barging in here after his daughters and she yanked the fur cover almost up to her chin; almost sending the girls crashing to the floor in her haste to cover herself up. Thankfully they seemed to find her embarrassment rather amusing and dissolved into giggles whilst Brienne tried to preserve her modesty. It had grown very hot underneath all the furs and the tent was surprisingly well insulated so she had removed her tunic and slept in just her undershirt and the last thing she needed was for Tormund to find her half naked in his bed with his two daughters sitting on her feet.

"Umm… hello," Brienne said awkwardly as the two little girls continued to stare at her, "Seven blessings to you."

They were both dressed in miniature versions of the heavy fur coats and boots that all the other Free Folk wore with their hoods pulled up so all Brienne could see where two pairs of bright green eyes. Not having been around a lot of children before Brienne was a little stumped at how old the two girls appeared to be but she's guessing that the one that little one, who was trying to hide behind her sister, is about four and the taller one is about six. There was a light dusting of snow covering both their coats which meant that they must have left the tent and been outside in the dark at some point. Either way, they both look far too small to be left to roam around unsupervised at this time of night; what if one of them got lost or had an accident? Septa Roelle, who had managed to find fault in just about everything Brienne ever did, would have scolded her within an inch of her life if she'd dared step even one foot away from her. Climbing up on another person's bed, even if it was her fathers, would also have been something she would never have dreamed of doing as a child but the two little girls look as though this is a regular pass time for them. It must be nice, Brienne thought to herself, to have your children climb up in bed with your for a cuddle or to tell them bedtime stories yourself rather than palm them off to a Septa. If Brienne was ever lucky enough to have children then there was no way she would ever give them up to the arms of a Septa

"You're not of the Free Folk," the taller of the two girls said suspiciously, "Why are you in our tent and sleeping in daddies bed?"

The little girl has inherited her father's very intense stare and her big green eyes roamed over Brienne almost like she could see straight through her. It would have been unnerving if Brienne wasn't so used to this from Tormund by now. Thankfully neither of them look that frightened to see her there though which is a relief; she wouldn't want to scare them or have the whole camp up in arms because she spooked the Free Folk leaders children.

"I'm a friend of Jon Snow's," Brienne explained as she tried not to sound too formal; she hadn't really had much interaction with children this young, "I've come to help you move your camp."

"Oh, you're King Crows Spear-Wife," the little girl said excitedly as she wriggled closer to Brienne before adding, "You make funny noises when you sleep. Did you know that?"

Brienne flushed bright red with embarrassment as she realized that probably the whole camp had been kept awake by her rather loud snoring. When she was a child Septa Roelle had forced her to sleep with a peg over her nose but not even that could stop her rather manly snores. The only person it never seemed to bother was Pod but that was perhaps because he was too polite to mention it to her.

"We went to get daddy because we thought you were dying," the girl told her as her sister continued to hide behind her, "But he said that all the Southern Folk make that sound when they sleep and to stop poking you."

If it's possible Brienne felt her face burn even redder at the thought of Tormund standing over her in the dark and listening to her wheezing away like a dying animal. Not that she was bothered about what he thought about her but snoring away like that didn't exactly make a good impression. All though perhaps his wife snored as well, Brienne thought grumpily, and he was used to it.

"I'm Solfrid and this is my little sister Hala," Solfrid said as she removed her hood, unleashing a mop of unruly, bright red curly hair as she hopped down off the bed and her sister almost fell off the end in her haste to follow her, "Our daddy is the leader of the Free Folk."

Brienne could hear the pride in her voice at that last bit and considering that the Free Folk chose who they wanted to lead them rather than just followed a line of succession it must be a great honor. The two girls were on the other side of the tent now and Brienne sat up to watch them. Solfrid's hair just seemed to be everywhere and Brienne could help but notice how it kinked to one side exactly like her fathers did. Both girls also had Tormund's well-defined cheekbones, milk white skin and their eyes were the exact same shade of bright emerald green. Not that she ever really looked that intently at Tormund; it was just a keen observation that's all Brienne tried to convince herself.

"Well, it's very nice to meet you Solfrid," Brienne said politely and Solfrid beamed back at her, "And you Hala. I'm Brienne of Tarth."

Hala didn't seem as sure of Brienne as Solfrid did and she slid even further behind her sister, leaving Brienne feeling even more huge and lumbering than she normally did. She just seemed so small, even when standing next to her sister, and it suddenly occurred to Brienne that perhaps she had never even seen anyone that wasn't a member of the Free Folk; especially not ones that showed up unannounced in her tent. Solfrid pulled her sisters hood down to reveal yet more flaming red, curls; clearly an inherited trait from their father. Someone had clearly attempted to braid it into submission and failed miserably as both girls seem to have enough hair for at least four other people.

"What's a Tarth?" Solfrid asked as she pulled her thick fur boots off and set them neatly to one side. She called to her sister in a language that Brienne didn't understand but Hala just shook her head, her hair flying all over the place, and remained where she was; watching Brienne warily.

"That's the name of where I'm from; the Isle of Tarth," Brienne explained as she tried not to take it to heart that he little girl was clearly quite frightened of her,

"It's an island down in the South."

"Oh," Solfrid replied, her eyebrows knitted together in confusion as she obviously had no idea what an island was, "We're Giantsbane's because daddy's great-great-great-great grand-mummy was a giant."

Brienne frowned slightly; she wasn't sure how accurate that story was but maybe it was more a story meant for children. Surely that couldn't be anatomically correct either? That being said Tormund is very tall and most likely his daughters would be as well.

"Do you have giants on this side of the wall?" Solfrid asked hopefully and looked highly disappointed when Brienne shook her head, "Oh. We used to know lots of giants but daddy said that Wun Wun was the last one."

"Who's One One?" Brienne asked in confusion causing Solfrid to fall about laughing. It was a nice sound considering the battle they were soon about to face and Brienne couldn't help but smile about with her.

"It's Wun Weg Wun Dar Wun silly," Solfrid said as the name rolled off her tongue and Hala started laughing as well, only to fall silent when Brienne turned to look at her, "Everyone in our tribe called him Wun Wun though."

Brienne had never seen a giant or really believed of their existence until she stumbled across a footprint that could have only come from something extremely large whilst riding back to Winterfell from Riverrun. Considering that they now knew of the existence of dragons and White Walkers, a giant stomping through the seven kingdoms was probably the least of their worries.

"He was daddy friend and he used to let us sit on his shoulders so we could see the flashing lights in the sky," Solfrid said sadly as she made her sister sit down so she could pull her small boots off, "But he's dead now. We watched daddy, King Crow and Dim Dalba set him on fire so he wouldn't turn into a White Walker and eat us all."

"Oh," was all Brienne could think of to say because she wasn't entirely sure it was appropriate to let such small children watch a giant being burned down to ashes. The Free Folk obviously had a very different system when it came to raising children but it made Brienne sad to think that children as young as this should already know about the army of the dead that was steadily marching toward them.

"The Bolton Bastard shot him in the eye and daddy said that made him a coward," Solfrid said promptly whilst Brienne almost choked at hearing the little girl use a swear word, "Daddy said we're not to be sad though because Wun Wun lives with the Old Gods, all his giant friends, and Murt the mammoth he used to ride now but we still miss him don't we Hala?"

Hala nodded abruptly before ducking behind her sisters back again; peering out at Brienne whilst Solfrid pulled her thick coat off for her. Underneath their fur coats, they wore simple cotton tunics and leggings and even though she never wore dresses herself, it was still strange to see two young girls in trousers. Dresses probably wouldn't be much use in the snow she reminded herself as Solfrid tried to sort out her sister's hair.

"Don't mind Hala," Solfrid said as she tucked their coats neatly away to one side, "She doesn't talk much anymore."

Before Brienne could ask why that was Solfrid had climbed up onto Brienne's makeshift bed and pulled her sister up after her. For a moment she was worried that they might actually get underneath the furs with her but instead, they nestled down near her knees. They must do this all the time with their father, Brienne thought, and she shifted her legs to make room for the two girls. Then she watched as Solfrid stretched her tiny feet out in front of her and whispered something to her sister in that strange language Brienne had heard all the other Free Folk speaking in all day. They didn't seem all that fussed that Brienne was essentially a stranger that had turned up unannounced in their father's bed and they were a lot more friendly than most adults she had met. Still, Brienne hadn't had much experience with children especially when they're this small and she wasn't entirely sure what to do. Solfrid and Hala seemed happy enough but maybe she should go and get Tormund or try and find the children's mother? That would prove difficult though as she had no idea where Tormund or his wife would even be. It wasn't like she could just go sticking her head into random tents and hope for the best; she'd probably get a spear straight through her gut. However, this was their tent and Brienne was only a guest so in the end she just watched as the girls got themselves comfy.

"What about polar bears or snow leopards?" Solfrid asked as she wriggled her toes into the soft fur, "Do you have them this side of the wall?"

"Well no," Brienne admitted drawing yet another disappointed look from the two girls, "There might be some regular bears in the woods though."

"What do you have then?" Solfrid grumbled as Hala began to peer slowly out from behind her back.

"Well, we have books and-"

"What's a book?" Solfrid broke in as Brienne struggled to think of something that the girls might find interesting on this side of the wall.

"Well… it's like a story but it's written down so you don't forget it," Brienne tried to explain whilst Solfrid remained unimpressed that a book wasn't something that had a mouthful of very sharp teeth.

"Daddy tells us stories all the time and he never forgets," she told Brienne whilst Hala nodded vigorously, "You Southern folk are strange."

Brienne was under the distinct impression that the girls were greatly disappointed by the lack of ferocious beasts on this side of the wall; regardless of how much more advanced the "Southern Folk" appeared to be. She was also feeling more than a little guilty at assuming that the Free Folk's old traditions were somehow more inferior to that of everyone south of the wall.

"You should ask daddy to tell you the story of when he climbed the Wall for the first time or when he hunted Grag the Great White Bear," Solfrid told her seriously,

"I bet they're much better than any book and daddy always does the voices."

Admittedly that did sound rather fascinating and Brienne was beginning to see Tormund in a rather different light now that she had met his children. From her brief time in the encampment, she felt she had come to understand the Free Folk a little better and some of Tormunds seemingly odd habits didn't seem so strange anymore. Here was a man who clearly doted on his daughters and didn't exactly live up to the savage, barbaric reputation that the rest of the world had bestowed upon his people.

"Do you live in that big camp with King Crow and the rest of the Southern Folk?" Solfrid asked excitedly, "Do all the people from the south live there?"

It must have been very strange for them to have come from a land of essentially ice and snow and living in small clans to all of sudden seeing all these huge stone buildings. Brienne didn't know how much Tormund had told his children about life beyond the wall or even how much about it he knew about himself so she was careful in her answer.

"No, not everyone. Just the people that serve the Stark family which is why I'm there," Brienne explained and she couldn't help but notice that the little girl screwed her face up at the word "serve", "There are lots of other castles and houses that people live in."

"What's a house?" Solfrid asked as her eyes lit up with curiosity.

"Well… it's like a tent but made of stone," Brienne said as she struggled to come up with an explanation that the girls would understand, "You get your own room and you wouldn't have to sleep outside."

"Why is that better than sleeping in a tent?" Solfrid questioned, "I'd be lonely all by myself without Daddy and Hala."

Admittedly Brienne was pretty stumped on how to answer that and was beginning to regret suggesting that the stone walls of Winterfell were better than the traditional animal tents of the Free Folk. She was still learning though and perhaps over time, she would stop putting her big, clumsy foot in it.

"Daddy doesn't like the stone tent. He told us that it's smelly and the food tastes horrible and it's full of horse poo," Solfrid explained whilst Hala giggled at the word "poo", "Daddy said that our tent is much better and warmer than the cold place you Southern Folk live in."

Brienne couldn't really disagree with that because there was a definite whiff about Winterfell and she supposed that if you spent most of your life outside amongst the wilderness than the dreary stonework would be a bit of a let-down. Solfrid then spent the next ten minutes explaining the best bits about sleeping in a tent, in the manner that only a small child could do, from the Mammoth tusks holding it up to the reindeer skin serving as the floor and why it was infinitely then smelly old Winterfell.

"I think your tent is very nice," Brienne said and Solfrid broke out into a huge smile, "In fact; I like it much more than my own bed."

"Do you want to come back when daddies here?" Solfrid asked hopefully, "He can tell you one of his stories or show you how we put the tents up!"

"I'd like that very much," Brienne said honestly although she wasn't sure how the girl's mother would feel about that. Maybe jealousy or friendships between men and women amongst the Free folk wasn't that big of a deal as it was in the seven kingdoms?

"Why does the Little Man live up there if nobody likes him?" Solfrid asked suddenly and Brienne was at a loss as to who she was refering to.

"Which little man?" she asked, hoping that Tyrion Lannister wasn't skulking about the place.

"The one that smiles but has mean eyes," Solfrid said, "And wears the bird on his cloak."

"You mean Little Finger?" Brienne said and the little girl nodded in agreement.

What on earth did Lord Baelish want with the Free Folk? He'd made his opinion on them very clear earlier and Brienne could see no reason at all for him anything to do with them.

"Daddy doesn't like him. He tried to get into our camp once but daddy and Dim Dalba told him to go away," Solfrid told her in hushed tones, "Daddy said that we're not supposed to talk to him and that if we see him near the camp again we have to get him or Dim Dalba."

Hmmm, Brienne was almost certain that Dim Dalba and Tormund had probably used harsher words than "go away" when confronted with Little finger and she wished she could have seen the look on his face. The Free Folk might live in tents but they were very far from stupid and Lord Baelish was bound to find that out the hard way if he continued to creep about their camp at night. It was also a relief to know that somebody else thought that Little Finger was up to no good and it wasn't just Brienne being paranoid. Now if she could just convince Lady Sansa of this…

"I like your hair," Brienne said as she tried to steer the conversation away from that awful man and pointed out Solfrids wonky braids, "Did your mother do it for you?"

"We don't have a mummy anymore," Solfrid replied bluntly, "The White Walkers ate her when they came into our camp back when Hala was little."

Brienne felt all the colour drain from her face all at once; she'd put her big clumsy foot in it again. Their mother was… dead? Or rather eaten alive by monsters and Brienne felt her face flush in shame for thinking that just because Tormund was a Wildling, that he would be involved in some form of primitive bigamy.

"Then mummy tried to eat us," Solfrid carried on as her expression clouded over whilst Hala huddled up against her, "And daddy had to kill mummy. He cut her head off with his axe but she still kept moving so daddy had to set her on fire. He made us stand outside but we could still hear the horrible noise she made."

She said it so matter of factly that all Brienne can do is stare the pair of them because of all the things she had been expecting, Tormund having to kill his own wife in front of his children was not one of them. Her feelings of sorrow were quickly replaced by anger as she looked at the two small children in front of her. Why weren't they on this side of the wall sooner? Why had the Free Folk just been left out there whilst they all sat safely in their stone walled houses? She couldn't even imagine what that must have been like for Tormund; taking an axe to his own wife's head in order to save his children? Death wasn't kind. Brienne knew that. It snatched where it could, taking people who were far too young, far too good. She might never have known Tormund's wife but that didn't stop her from feeling the pain that only the loss of a mother could bring. Death didn't even pretend to care and it certainly didn't pretend to distinguish between Free Folk, Southerner or even the high born because death comes for us all eventually.

"My mummy died when I was your age," Brienne said quietly as the feelings she'd never quite really dealt with from her mothers passing opened up again.

"It's not very nice is it?" Solfrid said sadly as Hala laid her little head on her sister's shoulder.

"No," Brienne sighed as she tried and failed to remember the feeling of her mother's arms around her or the smell of her soft brown hair, "No it's not."

"But we've still got daddy and he does all the things that mummy used to do," Solfrid said as her expression brightened almost instantly, "Except he's not very good at doing our hair but we don't mind, do we Hala?"

Hala shook her head in agreement, sending her hair flying all over the place again, and smiled shyly at Brienne before hiding behind her sister again. The poor little thing was clearly either very shy or simply traumatized by everything she had experienced living beyond the Wall. Perhaps she could try and convince Tormund to let the Maester have a look at his daughter?

"Daddy's mummy and daddy were killed by the Old Bear Crow when he was little like us," Solfrid told Brienne, "Then his brother and his sisters so Dim Dalba looked after daddy because the Free Folk always stick together."

If it's possible Brienne felt her heart break even further because even though her mother was gone she still had her father and she didn't like to think of Tormund all alone without anyone. It must have taken a great deal of strength for him to go out beyond the Wall with Jorah Mormont, knowing who his father was.

"Daddy says mummy lives with the Old Gods now, even the bits the White Walkers ate. He said we can hear her in the wind if we listen really carefully," Solfrid said and Brienne could tell by her face that she believed it, "Maybe you can hear your mummy too?"

"I'd like that," Brienne said as she smiled at the two girls, "I'd like that a lot."

"Are you going to help daddy and King Crow kill the White Walkers?" Solfrid asked hopefully and even Hala peered out at her from behind her hair.

"Yes," Brienne replied fiercely, "Yes I am."

"See Hally," Solfrid said as she nudged her sister in the ribs, "Daddy said that she would kill any of the White Walkers if they came into our tent!"

Brienne smiled warmly at the smaller girl in what she hoped was a friendly way but Hala only retreated even further behind her sister.

"Has she always been like this?" Brienne asked whilst Hala was distracted with the tassels on the end of her tunic.

"No, she used to talk all the time but then one day the men and the Spear-wives went out hunting whales and we were left with all the old people. That's when the White Walkers came again and we had to hide up the trees in the Haunted Forest until daddy came and found us," Solfrid explained whilst Brienne did her best to not look too horrified, "When we got back to camp the White Walkers had cut all our friends into little pieces and now Hala doesn't talk much anymore, except to me and daddy."

"I'm sorry," Brienne said quietly because there weren't really any words she could say that would make the situation any different.

"Why? Daddy says Hala will talk when she's ready to," Solfrid said, "And that most people who talk all the time don't have anything interesting to say anyway."

"I know but-"

"Daddy said you fought the Big Dog," Solfrid burst out excitedly as she moved quickly onto another topic of conversation as only a small child could, "The one that's frightened of fire!"

Brienne's nostrils flared at the mere mention of the Hound and it irked her that Tormund and Sandor Clegane had suddenly decided to become best friends. If she was in anyway interested in what Tormund got up to in his spare time then she would have told him to steer well clear of that foul man. There are plenty of other non-Free Folk people he could associate himself with if he wanted to. People that don't go around kidnapping young girls for a start.

"Yes but-"

"Did you stab him with your magic sword?" Solfrid asked as she and Hala scooted closer to Brienne so that they wouldn't miss a single word, "Daddy said you punched him in the face and bit him on the ear."

Great; the Hound has made her out to be some kind of savage that goes around assaulting unsuspecting strangers. Not that she needs to explain herself but if Tormund would like to hear the real story, with the bits that Sandor conveniently left out like how he had drawn on her first and kidnapped Arya Stark, then he's very much welcome to. All she had done was try and keep her oath and if that meant taking down men like Sandor Clegane a peg or two then so be it. Solfrid and Hala are still looking at her expectantly though and Brienne ended up telling them the full story of her fight with the Hound in the hope that they might pass it on to their father. She tried to keep it as age appropriate as possible but Solfrid kept interrupting whenever she tried to gloss over the gory bits and Brienne begrudgingly told them how she'd pushed Clegane over a cliff top much to their delight.

"We heard the King Crow saying how you rescued his sister from the Bolton Bastards Tin Men," Solfrid said as she clambered closer in the hopes of hearing another particularly violent bedtime story, "If someone hurt my sister than I'd hit them with daddy's axe. One of the stupid Cave Tribe boys pushed her once so I punched him in the face and made his nose bleed. Daddy said that next time I'm to hit him harder."

It's almost like having a mini Tormund in front of her and the air almost crackles into life around Solfrid as she talks about defending, albeit violently, her little sister. From what Brienne's gathered nobody seems to like the Cave Tribes because according to Solfrid they're smelly, stupid and cowardly. She's halfway through explaining exactly how hard she hit one of the Cave Tribe boys when Hala tugs on her sleeve and whispers someone in her ear.

"Hala wants to know if you bit them on the ear as well?" Solfrid said as Hala resumed trying to hide behind her, "Or did you just stab them?"

"Who?" Brienne asked as she struggled to keep up with the little girl's energetic attention span.

"The Bolton Bastards Tin Men," Solfrid explained, "The ones you were saving King Crow's sister from."

"Yes, I was protecting Lady Sansa from-"

"Why do you have to protect her?"

"Well because Lady Sansa can't fight –

"Why?"

"Because Ladies in the South aren't supposed to learn how to fight," Brienne told her whilst Solfrid turned her nose up once more.

"Daddy says it's silly that the Kneelers don't let the girls learn how to fight," she said and Brienne couldn't help but agree with her, "I can shoot a rabbit dead in the eye from fifty footfalls away and even Hala knows how to string a bow and she's only small."

She looks very proud of herself and Brienne can't help but smile even though it does sound a tad gruesome. Her father would never have dreamed of letting her anywhere near a sword or a bow and arrow and Brienne had resorted to sneaking out at night to practice. Jon Snow had commanded that all the girls in the North be taught how to wield a sword, bow and arrow and a Morningstar something which Brienne thought couldn't have come soon enough. Why should the girls have to sit about waiting for some man to defend them when they were just as capable of doing it themselves?

"Did your father teach you how to shoot a bow and arrow?" Brynne asked even though she already knew what the answer was going to be; the Free Folk weren't likely to let their children grow up without learning how to defend themselves.

"Yeah, and how to skin things," Solfrid said proudly as she tried to push her mass of hair out of her eyes, "Yigritte did as well; she helped daddy make my bow and arrow for me when I was littler."

"Who is Yigritte?"

It came out a little bit harsher than Brienne intended, not that she cared if Tormund had taken up with someone after the passing of the girl's mother. It would just be preferable to know if she should extinguish that tiny, little bit of interest in Tormund's Giantsbane that had flickered into life.

"She was our friend," Solfrid said as she traced her fingers along the pattern in the fur quilts, "Daddy rescued her when the Crow's came and killed everyone in her camp but she's dead now too."

Brienne was sensing a rather tragic occurring theme here so she tried to move the conversation to something else but Solfrid beat her to it once again.

"Have you met the Dragon Lady with the silver hair?" the little girl asked as she bounced up and down in front of Brienne with excitement.

There was only one person the "Dragon Lady" could be referring too and Brienne was rather hopeful that she might one day meet the would-be queen.

"Not yet no." She admitted whilst Solfrid was becoming even more animated by the minute; after growing up with giants, mammoths and polar bears the notion that there was two fire breathing lizards flying around didn't seem to phase her in the slightest.

"Daddy has! And he got to ride on the dragon!" Solfrid squealed as if her father being airborne on something that didn't come with a saddle, reigns or adequate fire safety instructions was the best news she'd ever heard, "Daddy said that the Dragon Lady might let us pet the dragon!"

Both Solfrid and Hala seem extremely excited by the prospect of meeting some huge scaly beast with giant teeth and that can breathe fire at will. The whole of Winterfell had seen the three massive dragons flying overhead on their way to the Wall to rescue Jon and his merry band of lunatics from the White Walkers. As impressive as they were Brienne wasn't sure that touching one of them was the very best idea; what if it decided it didn't like you or burnt you to ashes? At least Tormund had given his daughters a rather vague version of events instead of the actual version which involved them all almost being killed and the Night King taking out one of Daenerys's dragons with an ice javelin.

"That's very… I'm sure…" Brienne trailed off as she was drowned out by Solfrid's excitement about someday being able to meet Drogon the Dragon.

Privately Brienne knows that it's not her right to interfere with a parent's wishes but there's no way she's going to let two small, flammable, children come within fifty feet of a dragon. If Tormund decided that he was going to allow his daughters anywhere near Daenerys Targaryen's dragons than Brienne has decided that she will have to supervise the endeavor. The last thing they need they need is the leader of the Free Folk getting his head bitten off by a dragon and Brienne would very much like Tormund's head to remain attached to his neck if at all possible.

"Do you want to see the gift I made for daddy?" Solfrid asked hopefully whilst Brienne was running through the safety procedures one might need for petting a dragon in her head.

Before she can answer Solfrid has already jumped off the mound of furs serving as Brienne's bed and run off to the other side of the tent to retrieve something. Hala didn't follow her this time and much to Brienne's delight she shuffled a little bit closer; watching her intently with her huge green eyes. She didn't hide away when Brienne offered her a warm smile and instead, she blushed furiously all the way up to the roots of her flaming red hair making it seem as if her whole head was on fire. Barely two minutes later Solfrid was back and had climbed up to sit right up next to Brienne; her little warm body tucked in close and her hair ticked Brienne's nose.

"Hala helped me make it," Solfrid explained as she took Brienne's hand with her small one and laid something in her palm, "We're going to give it to him when we get to the new camp."

It was two intricate bundles of twigs tied together with what looked like bits of Solfrid and Hala's hair and a little seashell was stuck to the center of it.

"It's too stop daddy being sad," Solfrid explained as she took it back from Brienne and carefully laid it in her lap.

"Oh," Brienne said somewhat surprised, "Why is daddy sad?"

Tormund had always seemed rather upbeat and happy despite the fact that they were facing a war against both the living and the dead whenever Brienne had briefly come into contact with him. He also had this air of confidence about him that Brienne was secretly rather jealous of; like he knew exactly who he was meant to be wouldn't let anybody tell him any different.

"Because he couldn't stop the White Walkers eating everyone at Hardhome and now all his friends are dead," Solfrid said as she fiddled with some of the twigs, "We heard Dim Dalba talking to daddy and he said that if the Lion Lady stays in charge then she won't want us here and we'll have to leave. Then we'll have to run away in the night like we always do."

Brienne had heard Jon Snow telling Ser Davos in hushed tones about the massacre that was Hardhome, how thousands of people were snuffed out in the blink of an eye only to be brought back to some hellish existence moments later. It had sounded terrifying and it made Brienne's stomach churn to think that the vast majority of the White Walkers army must be made up of the Free Folk; people that Tormund and his daughters must have known.

"Whenever the crows found us we had to run away and leave everything behind whilst they set our tents on fire. We had to hide in the caves with the smelly cave tribes until they'd gone," Solfrid continued as her nimble fingers re-tied some of the hair holding the twigs together, "Daddy was really sad after that so we went to stay with the King Beyond the Wall. He's dead now too."

Another dead person? Brienne was losing track of just how many poor people had lost their lives during the Giantsbane's and the rest of the Free Folks struggle just to make it to some kind of safety. She felt stupid and ignorant for ever believing that the Free Folk were just a bunch of savages that were only there to be extra bodies for Jon Snow's army. They were real people with families and children of their own and Brienne couldn't even begin to imagine how much they had sacrificed just to get themselves as far away from the White Walkers as possible.

"Daddy's not very good at counting either," Solfrid explained and she was almost sat in Brienne's lap now and even Hala had crept even closer, "He doesn't want anyone to get left behind when we move camp that's why he's gone on the Long Walk."

"What's the Long Walk?" Brienne asked as she shifted her legs, pretending not to notice as Hala tucked herself in near her shoulder.

"You walk back to your old camp to make sure nones gotten lost on the way," Salford explained as she held out her twig bundle for Hala to look at, "That's where daddy first found Scruff all alone the snow. Hala and I looked after him until he was better and then daddy taught him how to tell us when the crows were coming."

"Whose Scruff?" Brienne asked in trepidation; hoping that this wasn't some other poor person that had gotten decimated by the White Walkers or killed by the Knights Watch.

"Our dog. We had to leave him behind at HardHome because there wasn't enough room in the boats," Solfrid said looking downcast at the loss of her pet, "Daddy set all the other dogs loose as well so he wouldn't be lonely."

"I'm sure he's having a nice time out in the snow with all his friends," Brienne said as she tried to sound upbeat when she was really worrying about how many packs of undead dogs could be coming their way.

"Do you think Daddy will like it?" Solfrid asked and Brienne could detect a hint of worry in her voice, "I wanted to make it extra special for him because he's the best daddy ever."

"I think he'll love it," Brienne told her and Solfrid's face lit up with a big sunny smile, "Would you like something else to put on it?"

Solfrid nodded eagerly, her hair bouncing all over the place, and Brienne reached down and lifted her cloak up off the floor. Pinned to the neckline was a tiny silver pin that depicted a sun and a half moon, the Sigel for House Tarth and Brienne removed it as Solfrid and Hala both watched her with interest. By the time she had finished attaching the broach to the little stick creation Hala had almost crawled into her lap; her little face lighting up once Brienne was finished.

"Look Hala!" Solfrid cried as Brienne handed it over to her and she showed it excitedly to her sister, "It's a moon for you and a sun for me!"

Hala's eyes turned comically wide as she took the twig bundle from her sister and looked at the shining silver pin with an expression of awe on her face. She looked over it for a few more minutes and it seemingly passed the test as she passed it back to Solfrid.

"It's pretty like you now," Solfrid said happily as her small fingers traced over the small silver sun and Brienne felt her face flush in the darkness.

"Well.. I don't…" she stammered as the girls climbed over her and back down onto the floor.

"Daddy thinks you're pretty," Solfrid interrupted as she started pulling her boots back on and Hala nodded vigorously, "We heard him talking to the Big Dog and he said you've got yellow hair like the sun and blue eyes like the Shivering Sea. That's all we heard though because the Big Dog kept telling daddy to be quiet."

There's was a sharp noise outside, a cross between a whistle and a bird call, and Brienne was saved from answering as the girls quickly pulled their thick coats back on and pulling their hoods up.

"Good bye Brienne of Tarth," Solfrid called and before Brienne could say or do anything they'd both run out of the tent.

The girls had vanished by the time Brienne had dressed, reattached Oathkeeper and pulled on her thick heavy boots. The chatter and the sound of hundreds of footfalls moving swiftly along outside were disorientating and it took Brienne a minute or two to get her bearings once she finally exited the tent. Even though the sun was barely creeping over the horizon it appeared that she had slept in because hers was the only tent that was still standing. The Free Folk had to move around it on their way down to their new campsite and some of them gave her a funny look when she stumbled out and almost fell face first into the snow. Clearly correctly exiting a tent was an art form that she had yet to master and taking one down as elaborate as this was also out of her skills base and Brienne dithered about wondering what to do.

“Crow,” someone grunted behind her and Brienne turned around to find a rather ferocious looking man with lots of hair standing in front of her.

“Yes?” Brienne said but before she could assertion as to what he wanted the man and a group of Free Folk men had already descended upon the tent and in less than five minutes they had it dismantled and packed away onto a waiting sled.

“Tormund,” the man grunted again but this time he pointed ahead of himself and out into the crowd, “Lady… Crow.”

He didn't speak much of the common tongue but before she could say thank you they were gone and much like the rest of the camp site, it was as if the Free Folk hadn't even been there at all. Even any trace of the hundreds of fires that had been burning last night had been lost amongst the snow. Moving in the direction that he had pointed Brienne hurried through the crowd; she needed to find Pod and make sure he hadn’t drunk his weight in wine or guzzled that awful soured goat's milk the Free Folk seemed to love so much. Whilst she walked Brienne mulled over all the new information she had acquired from her night spent with the Free Folk. Tormund having two adorable daughters were defiantly not what she was expecting and Brienne can see now why he’d headed straight back to his camp after returning with Jon Snow. The fact that he was a brave and a well-respected leader amongst his own people, and now within the so called “Southern Folk”, was a given but that wasn’t what was making her think so much about the leader of the Free Folk. Brienne had always believed that honor and valor came in the form of gilded armor and an oath sworn before a king but maybe that wasn’t the way for everyone. There was something about a father setting aside his own grievances to make sure his children stood even a chance at surviving the war to come that made her respect Tormund even more. His determination to get Solfrid and Hala to a place of safety, even if that meant turning to the very people the Free Folk had been fighting with for generations, showed just how far he was willing to go for his own people. Brienne’s heart ached for those two little girls though; especially Hala who appeared to have been rendered mute from the terror the White Walkers had caused in her short life.

“It’s too stop daddy being sad.”

Brienne didn't like to think of Tormund being sad either, it seemed wrong somehow, but after losing the majority of the Free Folk in the massacre at Hardhome and then his giant friend she could see how he perhaps wouldn't be in the best frame of mind. She should be kinder to him, Brienne told herself sternly as she moved her way through the never ending crowd, or perhaps offer some assistance if he and his daughters needed any adjusting to life beyond the wall. Brienne could teach Tormund to read and write if he was interested; then the stories that he told his little girls would be there for the next generation of Free Folk children. That's if they didn't all get sucked up into the Night Kings army she thought uneasily as Solfrid and Hala had definitely opened her eyes up to how much of danger they were all in.

“POD!” Brienne shouted as a young man with short dark hair moved up ahead of her but when he turned around and showed off a set of razor sharp filled down teeth and intricate facial scaring, she hurried on her way.

An hour of walking later and Brienne had still yet to locate her squire even though his dark cloak should have been easily visible amongst the sea of white and brown furs. She wasn't too worried as Pod was more than capable with a sword and was probably just stumbling along in a hungover state. Tormund’s daughters also appeared to be long gone and Brienne couldn’t help but fret that she should have made them wait with her until an adult came to collect them. The sheer number of the Free Folk moving about would make it easy for one of them to get lost and Brienne strained her eyes to see if she spot either of the two little red heads. She had just finished climbing up a steep bank a little while later when there was a break in the crowd and up ahead the graying ginger hair of Dim Dalba came into view; Hala and Solfrid skipping along beside him. It was a relief to see them safe and well with the elder and Brienne quickened her pace to catch up with them. Realistically she knew that very little harm was likely to come to them, not when they were surrounded by the Free Folk, but Brienne just wanted to make sure that the two little girls were alright. Her long legs carried her quickly through the snow and she had almost reached them when Solfrid turned around and waved at her but before Brienne had a chance to catch up with them both Hala and Solfrid abruptly took off running through the crowd. It was that noise that had set them off; that weird whistling sound that Brienne wasn't entirely sure was coming from man or beast.

They were zigzagging through the crowd; their nimble little feet flying over the snow at a speed that Brienne could never have attained. Solfrid had her hand wrapped tight around her sisters and they were both shouting something in that strange language that Brienne had yet to understand. The whistle sounded again and they switched direction; darting this way and that between the legs of the other Free Folk. The snow had started to fall now but that didn't stop Brienne from noticing the huge figure that was stalking its way towards the two unsuspecting girls. Brienne surged forward, her hand already on her sword despite the fact that the snow was already falling at a fast pace. The Free Folk seemed like a decent bunch but even in Tarth, they’d heard stories about the cannibalistic Thenns. What if one of them decided to kidnap the chief’s daughter and start some sort of revolt? Cursing herself that she hadn’t insisted that the girls stick close to her until they found their father; Brienne started to push her way through the crowd. She’d barely gotten three feet when that bloody whistle sounded out again and Hala broke free from her sister and went charging ahead running as fast as her short legs could carry her. That’s when the stranger darted forward towards Hala and Brienne’s heart almost stopped in her chest because she’d never reach the little girl in time if this unknown assailant intended to her any harm. That didn’t stop her from charging through the crowd; scattering the Free Folk to one side as she went. Oathkeeper is almost in her hand when a gust of wind blew the strangers hood off and Brienne stopped dead in her tracks as Tormund scooped his youngest daughter up and threw her up in the air; her little laugh carrying through the air. Solfrid had reached them by now, bouncing up and down as she chattered animatedly away to her father, and Brienne felt her face flush when she realized that the little girl appeared to be acting out someone being bitten in the ear and then pushed violently off a cliff. Unfortunately, Tormund seemed most intrigued by this and Solfrid repeated her little mime but this time she included the bit where Brienne had hit Clegane repeatedly in the head with a rock. Blushing furiously Brienne merged herself back amongst the Free Folk who were moving swiftly onwards all around her and she should have started moving again before her feet froze but she couldn’t help but stay and watch the little family.

Solfrid was now tugging on Tormund’s sleeve until he set Hala down on the ground and crouched down next to her; holding her close as she pulled something out of her pocket. Her hair had erupted out from her hood and Brienne watched as Tormund valiantly tried to move it away from her face whilst the cold wind whipped it around in frenzy. Eventually, he gave up pushed it back inside her hood only for it break free once more a few seconds later. Brienne moved a little closer, her feet were about to freeze solid if she didn’t, and Solfrid was now showing Tormund her little twig gift and pointing out all the different pieces to it. She was too far away to hear what they were saying but Tormund seemed to be listening intently to what his daughter was saying and then he pulled her and her sister in a huge bear hug; kissing them each on the forehead. Carefully stowing his gift away in his pocket, Tormund swung Hala up to sit on his shoulders and sent her into a fit of giggles again. They looked like they were about to move on when Solfrid was tugging on her father's sleeve again and then before Brienne could move, the little girl turned around and pointed right at her. Her feet seemed almost glued in place as Tormund look directly at her, smiling widely as he waved at her and Brienne couldn't help but blush bright red as she raised her hand and waved back at him; a shy smile on her lips.

“Milady,” a voice said next to her and Brienne was so caught up in the moment that she hastily turned around to find a very bedraggled looking Pod standing next to her.

His cloak was completely skewed, his hair mussed and he seemed to be swaying slightly as he stood causing Brienne to roll her eyes in annoyance. A young wildling girl that had been hovering nearby blew Pod a kiss and gave him a very ungainly courtesy before she flounced off into the crowd; giggling loudly as she went.

“PODRICK!” Brienne scolded as she took in the state of him, “What on earth have you been up to?”

“Nothing Milady,” Pod mumbled even though he stank of alcohol and had several scratch marks on his neck.

Sighing heavily Brienne turned back around to find that Tormund and his daughters had disappeared; blending easily into the crowd as they moved onwards with the rest of the Free Folk. The disappointment at not seeing them again hit her harder than she realized and it took Pod gently tugging on her arm to get her to realize that he had been speaking to her.

“Time to go Milady,” Pod said as he pointed over to where one of the young Free Folk men had their horses waiting by the track that led back to Winterfell.

over to where one of the young Free Folk men had their horses waiting by the track that led back to Winterfell.
Struggling through the slippery snow Brienne made it to her her horse with relatively little difficulty; unlike Pod who’s feet slid out from underneath him at almost every turn. Once he’d finally made to his own horse Brienne set about removing the thick fur boots she’d borrowed until a voice called out to her from the crowd.

“Keep ‘em for next time you visit us, Lady Crow,” Dim Dalba shouted as he broke free from the band of steadily moving people, “You and the lad are welcome anytime just remember to leave the fucking ‘orses at home!”

Brienne smiled at him as they set off back down the track to Winterfell but as she rode through the gates she couldn't help but think how she’d much rather be back inside that deliciously warm tent and tucked up underneath those strongly scented furs.