A Sapphire in the Snow

Chapter 6

Over the next weeks Brienne and Tormund traversed the North calling upon House after House. At many, they found staunch Stark loyalist, more than willing to pledge all they had including their lives in support of their Queen. At some estates they were met with skepticism. Some bannermen were unsure whether the tenuous peace could be maintained. A few even showed open aggression at the thought of bending the knee to a woman, even if she was a Stark. Still other houses were barely subsisting after losing many family members in the battle with the dead. They did their best to oblige, cajole, appease, and negotiate. There were some Northmen with whom they even had to resort to threats.

Brienne's frustration over her unexpected associate soon subsided, and she began to truly contemplate Tormund's finer qualities. She found herself watching him, studying him closely. She had never seen someone who could read others so well. She was amazed by his ability to seemlessly alter his approach depending upon their audience. He had proven himself to be calm and steadfast among the older more stoic houses of the North, letting her take the lead with hardened nobles still wary of anyone from beyond The Wall. Regardless of where they found themselves, those to whom they petitioned, or the level of support they found, Brienne was discovering that Tormund was an exceptionally brilliant negotiator, and a natural leader. She found herself learning from him. It took little time together for her to realize that it was his kindness that affected her the most and eventually mellowed her toward him.

They reached Frozen Heath late in the afternoon of a brutally cold day with a night's snowfall looming on the horizon. The modest tower house, more of a farm really, comprised the main structure and was nestled at the base of the Northern Mountains. It faced a large open meadow that looked as though it could not remember ever seeing the sky under the snow that layered deep upon it. The seat of House Burgen, who had long ago sworn fealty to House Burrley of the Mountain Clans, Frost Heath had seen better days even before the Battle At Winterfell. More of the small main house was dilapidated than livable. Brienne and Tormund almost assumed it to be abandoned until they noticed a small child running from the barn to the tower. Undoubtedly, their arrival was being announced to the occupants inside.

They were careful not to draw scrutiny, or appear threatening, in their approach. Upon reaching the small yard in front of the Keep, for the house had no guard wall or inner courtyard, they tied their horses to a fence post and walked slowly to the main door. Tormund knocked carefully on the large solid oak panel which was certainly bolted securely. He and Brienne eyed each other apprehensively as they waited.

The door opened slowly, but only an inch. A small and sunken hazel eye peered out at them. "May I help you?" A frightened voice inquired. It was the tone of a young woman.

Understanding the owner of the timid voice might be more comfortable speaking to a woman, Brienne answered in response. "I am Brienne of Tarth, My Lady" She nodded. "This is Tormund Giantsbane. We are here at the behest on Queen Sansa Stark, to inquire on the status of your house."

"The Queen in The North?" The young woman gasped, and opened the door wider revealing a tiny frame made smaller from near starvation. Her skin was sallow and pale, and the lack of any fat on her bones to warm her caused her to shiver in the open doorway. "What could House Stark want with us?" She stared in amazement.

"May we enter?" Brienne asked again, eager to get the freezing woman out of the cold.

"Oh, forgive me." The lady begged, and stepped aside.

Brienne stepped inside the tower house first, followed by Tormund. The door opened directly into a small Great Hall. The room had a high ceiling and was dimly lit with only a few narrow windows overhead. The fireplace at one end was enormous even by Winterfell standards. There was, however, only a miniscule blaze dying in the hearth. A frail older woman sat beside the fire, wrapped in worn furs. Two small children, a boy and girl seemingly very close in age, huddle behind her peeking out in fear.