A Sapphire in the Snow

Chapter 12

"I'm taking Brienne to Tarth to recover." Tormund announced a few days after she had regained consciousness.

He had pulled Sam and Jon to the other side of the drape that had hidden her from the rest of the ward. Only now that she was awake and talking was Tormund comfortable with even a few feet of distance between himself and Brienne. He had seen to her every need since she had awakened. He had spooned warm broth to her weary lips, fetched blankets for her when she grew cold in the night, and saw to it that she drank the tea of herbs that Sam had ordered for her. What Tormund wanted most, was to get Brienne out of this terrible place. He wanted to take her somewhere she would be comfortable, somewhere she could rest and regain her strength. Before the thought even completely formed in his mind, he realized that place was her home, Tarth.

"Is she strong enough for the journey?" Jon questioned.

Sam considered Tormund's demand. "She will certainly not survive a return journey North." He conceded. "Even Winterfell is probably too great a distance." Sam's squinted, trying to think of all the reasons for and against such a journey.

"Tarth is farther." Jon reminded them.

"Not by ship." Tormund explained, his eyes gleaming at the thought of his intended gift to Brienne.

Sam nodded in agreement. "The traveling would be smooth, and she could rest in bed in the cabin." He consented.

"The ships are returning to the docks since the invasion was halted." Jon informed them. "Surely at least one must be going that far south." He hoped.

"It's settled, then." Tormund declared rubbing his hands together in excitement. He pulled a small skin pouch filled with coins from his pocket. "I don't want Brienne to know. I want to surprise her." Tormund grinned hopefully.

"Say no more." Jon laughed, eager to lend his help. "Let me go down to the docks and inquire about passage." He offered.

Tormund's smile grew wider, happy that he would not need to leave Brienne alone. He tossed the coins to Jon who pivoted on his heels. Slapping his friend on the back as he turned, Jon rushed away before Tormund could thank him.

Tormund turned to Sam, and grabbed the young man by the arms. "How can I thank you?" He asked earnestly. "You saved her. You brought her back to me." He could not keep his composure as gratitude overwhelmed him, and he fought the lump forming in his throat.

"You should thank King Bran." Sam offered humbly. "It was he that felt I could be of some good." He was not willing to take all the credit.

"Well, I'll thank the Gods for ye, Samwell Tarly." Tormund said grinning broadly.

Their conversation was cut short by a whimper from Brienne's bed on the other side of the curtain. Tormund wheeled around to return to her, angry at himself for being away from her longer than he had meant to. Sam followed quickly on his heels. Throwing the sheet aside they found Brienne weak, fatigued, and trying to sit up. She was not making the progress for which she had hoped. Attempting to push herself upwards toward the pillow, she winced in pain.

Tormund rushed to her. "What are you doing?" He admonished her, concerned. He did not let her answer, but continued trying to comfort her. "You are not to move a muscle." He told her. "That's what I'm here for." He smiled, easing her back down onto the sheets, and then sitting beside her on the edge of the cot. Seeing that Tormund had matters well in hand, Sam back away to allow them privacy and to see to his rounds.

Brienne regarded him, woefully. "I'm not used to lying around." She argued her case softly. "I need to get up and see to the post battle affairs." She entreated.