The four sat in the Great Hall of Winterfell, celebrating being alive with the rest of the castle, and playing a drinking game. The hall was warm from fire, bodies, and candles, and everyone, excepting a few singular souls, seemed to be having a wonderful time, Tyrion, Jaime, Podrick, and Brienne included.
"You've had sex with a whore," Tyrion said, looking his brother right in the eyes and laughing knowingly.
"My dear brother, you know I have not. I leave that distinction to you," Jaime answered.
"No, not a whore," Tyrion said, drinking his cup down. "But whenever you had sex, I'm sure it came with a price."
Jaime drank, not answering, just looking a little drunk and bemused by his brother's characteristic impudence. Then he looked at Podrick, "And what about you, Pod? I bet you've never slept with a whore."
"Actually, I have," the young man said. "Lost my virginity to one or two down in King's Landing." He raised his cup to Tyrion, who matched it.
"You drink up, brother. Young Podrick here was quite the legend at Baelish's brothel. Whatever he did, he did it so well the whores paid him," Tyrion said with a wag of his eyebrows.
"Is that even possible?" Jaime asked.
Brienne frowned at Podrick. "Really? I'd have thought better of you, at least, Podrick."
"Yes, Ser. But I was Lord Tyrion's squire, at the time. And the whores didn't pay me. They just didn't take payment," Pod clarified earnestly.
The table burst into laughter at that, even Brienne.
Jaime raised his cup, "I give you Podrick Payne, Hero of the Whores!"
"Ladykiller of the Landing!" Tyrion called, pounding the table. Brienne raised a cup in spite of her blush as she and Jaime stomped their feet.
After a moment, Brienne guffawed at a thought, then hissed, "Squire of Sex!" in a loud whisper. This set the table off into wild laughter, both at the thought and at the rosy pink blush that had come to Brienne's cheeks at even daring to join in on taking the piss out of the men as an equal and friend.
When they calmed down, Tyrion nodded to Brienne over his cup. "Careful, or we'll have to start calling you Ser Brienne of Tart."
"Never!" Jaime said with an inebriated grin. "It's the Sapphire Island because all the men have blue balls!"
Brienne frowned at Jaime, her scowl making Pod suck in a breath and Tyrion give a drunken titter. Then her face formed itself into a determined glower, and she said, "Maybe the blue balls were just for you, Kingslayer?"
Jaime's face fell, and Tyrion gave a great belly laugh such as he hadn't had cause to let out since Robert Baratheon's fat ass sat on the Iron Throne. Pod patted her on the back once she broke into a wide grin, and even Jaime raised a sheepish cup to her.
She stood, smirking in triumph and said, slamming her drink down on the table, "I have to piss!"
Tormund Giantsbane, who had been waiting for his moment, stepped up to her saying, "We did it! We faced those icy fucks, looked right in their blue eyes and here we are," he took a deep breath and let his lusty gaze look Brienne up and down. Then he said, "Pray I don't find out which one of you cowards shit in my pants!" His serious face turning into a mad laugh.
Brienne's earlier bravado shrunk a bit at Tormund's scatological humor. "Please pardon me, for a moment," she said with just a touch of disdain, and moved around his large bulk.
Tormund blinked in surprise, and wobbled in his cups before he made a move to follow her, only to find his way blocked by a standing Jaime Lannister.
The two men looked at each other, Jaime giving a small shake of his head and patting Tormund on the shoulder before turning and walking off after the tall blond knight.
Tormund's face fell, and he stumbled away from the table, undoubtedly to drown his sorrows.
Brienne had observed the interaction over her shoulder, but when she saw Jaime turn, she startled as if by a lion's roar, walking away quickly until she was safe behind her own bedroom door.
She went about her business, afterwards finding that someone or other of the remaining servants had also left a full wash tub near the fireplace, and a kettle on the coals. Before the preparations for the Long Night, a full wash tub waiting for her in her rooms had been a usual occurrence, a perk of being the personal guard of the Lady of Winterfell. It was a clue that life would begin again, fall back into some of the usual routines. Brienne took in a deep breath at the thought, after so much death.
As usual, all she had to do was tend the kettle and heat the bath. Her fire she'd seen to before she left for dinner, so the kettle would be hot. She laid her sword out on the table, cleaning tools to the side, then retrieved her sleeping shift from her things and mostly disrobed. She quickly cleaned her leather armoring clothes then checked the kettle. The tub was not large - just enough for her to sit in but not stretch out - she judged it to be hot enough for a quick bath. She poured the water from the kettle into the tub, warming it enough for a bath.
She didn't always like bathing. Not because she didn't like to be clean, but because she didn't like to be reminded of her body - not enough to be a man, too much to be a lady. This night it didn't bother her. She was a Knight of the Seven Kingdoms, a survivor of the Long Night. That night, this night, and every night ever after, her body would make her proud. Still, she washed quickly, before the water or the air cooled.
She was already in her long, dark blue sleeping shift, hair drying, when she heard the knock at her door. A half smile flit across her face before she took better controlled of her features.
***
Jamie followed Brienne, but got lost in the labyrinth of halls that was the living quarters of Winterfell. Finally he gave up and asked a serving woman where Ser Brienne's rooms would be.
"Oh, ser, she's not 'ere in the guest quarters. She's a room in the family wing - Lady Sansa insisted when they first arrived," she said with a suspicious grin.
Jaime was, if not the Golden Lion, still a fine man. He gave her a flirtatious smile, hoping to sway her to his service. "Would you show me the way?" he asked politely.
"A' course, ser," she said, but then hesitated. "Wait a moment, if you please? I have to fetch something."
Jaime gave her a small bow. "Whenever you're ready."
In a moment she returned carrying two pewter cups and a covered pitcher. She shoved them into Jaime's half-capable grasp. "You'll be wantin' this, it's from Dorn." Then she waved him to follow her, unfurling the maze easily. She stopped at a junction, gesturing down the hall. "Her room's just up there, on the right. Now, be good, Lannister. Soft-hearted she is. Mus' be, to see what's good in you."
