They had been on the road from Harrenhal for 2 days when they spotted an inn. Jaime insisted they stop there instead of making camp. Brienne was still in that terrible pink dress with blood caked down her neck and chest. She needed a bath and to have her wounds tended to. She had not allowed Qyburn to touch her and Jaime wasn't surprised after hearing the disgraced maester speak of examining her. She had barely even allowed Jaime to get close to her. He was worried her wounds would start to fester and she would end up with a fever.

Once inside the Inn, the smells and sounds were comforting. Jaime requested a private room for the Lady, as well as a bath. He also asked them to find her new clothes, and men's would be preferred. The innkeeper's wife looked at her with sad eyes. Brienne was sure she must look even more terrible than normal- between the grime and blood and deep wounds. She averted her eyes when the woman came over to take her by the arm to lead her to her room. She glared at the men, and Jaime knew what she was thinking. He couldn't rightly blame her. She lead Brienne up the stairs and settled her in a small room. She told her that a bath would be brought up immediately as well as dinner.

"And wine." Brienne managed to croak.

"Yes m'lady."

Brienne sat in silence. She knew she wouldn't be alone very long, so she just sat on the bed and waited for everything to be brought to her room. Within a few minutes there was a knock on the door and a tub was brought in. Two young men carried the tub while two more carried steaming buckets of water. The innkeep's wife carried a tray with a flagon of wine, a glass, a bowl of roast, and half a loaf of bread. While the smell was pleasant, Brienne's stomach knotted at the thought of eating. The boys had left and quickly returned with more water.

"Can I do anything else for you m'lady?" The kind woman asked.

"No, thank you." She couldn't look at her. She hated to look in her eyes. Pity. Disgust. She wasn't sure which was worse.

When everyone had left, she went to bolt the door, but it was broken. Of course. She used the knife brought with her meal to cut that dreadful dress off. She couldn't unlace it herself and she hadn't wanted anyone to touch her. So, she was glad a knife was available. At Harrenhal, her clothes and weapons had been taken when she was in the bath and only that dress was left. She had been given no shift for underneath nor any small clothes. She looked at herself in the mirror that sat hung on the wall. She did look terrible. She looked at her neck and shoulder. The wounds from the bear were grotesque, but she found she didn't mind them too much. Her eyes moved lower. There were marks all over her stomach. Bruises were forming on her waist and hips and down her legs. Without the dress, she looked at her wrists and ankles, raw where the ropes had dug into her flesh. She looked at her left thigh and the bright red gouge that ran the length of it. Finally, she looked at the bruises forming between her legs. The dried blood could barely be seen now that the bruises were there- much darker than the others. She turned from the mirror, more disgusted with her body than ever.

She walked to the tub and looked at the steaming water. While she needed a bath and usually enjoyed the hot water around her, she knew this one would not be so pleasant. She carefully lifted one leg in, and then the other before sinking down into the water quickly. There was no point in going slow. There would be pain no matter what. She let a small cry escape her as the hot water touched her sensitive body. She lowered herself deep enough that water touched her ears. She started rubbing at the now dry and caked fluids between her legs. She looked around and finally found the soap and a rag. She immediately wrapped the soap in the rag and started scrubbing between her legs. Her flesh was so tender that even the slightest pressure was excruciating, but she didn't care. She needed them off of her.

She gradually sat up to move lower on her legs, keeping the same intensity. It disgusted her that their seed was so thick that it had run down her body. She was so focused on what she was doing she hadn't heard the knock at the door, nor did she hear it open.

"Not so hard, you'll scrub the skin off." Jaime's voice rang through the room. He repeated his words from their bath together hoping she wouldn't startle, but she jumped and wrapped her arms around her knees anyway. Damn that door.

"Do you need something?" She asked with more irritation than she intended.

"Sorry, My Lady." He was taken aback by her tone, "The innkeeper's wife sent me with a night shift for you. She apologizes for the size, it will probably be a bit short. She will have clothes for you by morning." He set the garment down on her bed and backed out of the room.

She chastised herself for being so cold to him. She hadn't even spoken to him since he returned for her. She didn't know what to say. She didn't want him thinking so low of her. She didn't know why it was so important to her or when it even happened that she cared what he thought.

She shook her head trying to eliminate the thoughts and began scrubbing at her shoulder. She gasped at the pain. It was sharp and the soap burned the deep gouges. She kept scrubbing. Fresh blood started to flow from the wounds. She cursed herself for not asking for enough linens to bandage them. She reached as far onto her back as she could and then she scrubbed at the dried blood that had run down her chest. When she was certain that she was clean, she rested in the tub. Soon, the water had started to cool and she struggled to stand. The water had allowed her muscles to relax and feel weightless, but now it was difficult to pull herself up. One leg at a time, she managed.

She grasped the towel and gingerly patted herself dry. She felt bad that she was staining everything with blood. She looked at the tub. The water was even red. She shivered despite the warmth of the room. She took the night shift off the bed and put it on, the towel draped over her shoulder to soak up the blood that was freshly flowing. Jaime had been right. The shift was short on her, but it almost hit her knees, so she was glad of that. It was much lower cut in the front than she would have liked though. The neckline plunged, stopping in the middle of her sternum just between her small breasts. The innkeepers wife was much larger in that regard, and it probably sat higher on her chest.

She looked to the food that had been left. It was cold, but still smelled nice. She ripped off a piece of bread and dipped it in the broth. She ate the bread and turned to the wine, filling the glass before walking over to the bed to sit down. She took a deep breath. And then another. She brought the cup to lips and sipped it. She wasn't much for drinking, but right now, she just wanted to be numb. It was a terrible idea, but she looked at the glass and started drinking it. She gasped for air about halfway through and quickly went back to draining the glass. Soon it was empty and she sat there panting for a moment. She got up to fill the glass again.

After the second glass she was terribly light-headed. The night was dark beyond her window. She laid back onto the bed and drifted to sleep.

Suddenly she was back there, in that horrible little room with that horrifying little bed. She was screaming and trying to get out, but the door didn't budge. She was screaming louder and slamming herself into the door. She had to get out. She couldn't be here again. Suddenly she felt someone grab her shoulder...

"Brienne?" Jaime's hand shook her shoulder and his voice entered her mind.

She lurched up into a sitting position gasping for air. She was covered in sweat. She had grasped his arm as if she was ready for a fight. Quickly, she found his emerald eyes. It was Jaime. She closed her eyes in relief. She wasn't in that room. She let go of his arm and her breathing started to collect, though she couldn't stop trembling. "What are you doing here?" She managed to ask just a bit higher than a whisper.

"You were screaming. I could hear you down the hall." He looked so concerned she could barely stand it.

"I'm fine."

His eyes looked at the bloody towel on the bed that had freed itself from the shift she was wearing. Then went to her neck and shoulder. At least the the wounds from that damned bear didn't look like they were going to cause any problems. Unintentionally, his eyes drifted down to the wide opening of the shift over her chest and his eyes caught site of it. Brienne was aware of his intense gaze and she tried not to squirm beneath his look. Suddenly, she realized what he saw. She grasped the neckline of the shift and tried to pull it together to hide her chest.

"Don't" She whispered, unable to look at him.

Jaime dropped to his knees beside the bed, "That is human." He tried looking at her but she wouldn't meet his eyes. So he pulled her hand away to see her chest again. He hadn't seen it in the dress because she was covered in blood, but now it was blatantly obvious. A human bite mark just above her breast.

"Jaime, please stop." Just go, she pleaded in her mind. Pretend you didn't see it.

"Brienne!" He searched her face again- trying to meet her eyes, "That is human!"

Something in her snapped and she shouted, "I am aware of that. I was there!"

She finally looked at him. Her eyes were full of so much emotion that he couldn't read them. Her normally sapphire eyes were grey. He didn't know how to respond. Of course she had been there. And he hadn't been. He had left.

"What did they do you?" He asked softly.

She huffed at him and laid back down. Like an idiot she pulled her legs up to her chest without making sure she was covered. The red streak down her leg was the next thing he saw. She noticed that he saw it immediately.

"Seven-Hells." She flipped over so she was facing away from him and pulled the blankets up over her. She hadn't wanted him to see her like that. She wanted to rage. She wanted to fight. She wanted to die. All her body allowed was for her to do was cry. He could see the tiny shakes running through her body though she was silent.

"I'm sorry." He rested his elbows on the bed and then his head in the crook of them. "I'm so sorry."

She knew he was. "It wasn't your fault." Her voice was heavy with her quiet sobs.

"I shouldn't have left you there."

"They didn't give you a choice."

"I should have made them kill me. Or beat me and tie me to the horse to be dragged away. Anything but what I did."

"Don't say that." Her body was shaking more than before. She was unable to voice that he had done the right thing. That, had he fought, he wouldn't have been able to return and the bear would have ripped her apart. Despite everything, she hadn't wanted to die there for their entertainment.

He couldn't stand it. When had he begun to care so much for her? He had been full of cruel japes and jests before, but now, when she needed him, he didn't know what to say to her. He wanted to go back to the day on the bridge and stop himself from being an ass. His stupid joke cost them the time and distance that could have saved them both. He looked at her quaking form, still sobbing silently. He knew she could kill him faster than he would be able to defend himself, but he didn't care. He crawled onto the bed next to her and wrapped his hand-less arm around her. When she didn't react adversely, he pulled her closer to him and rested his head on the back of her neck.

After some time, she stopped crying. He thought she had cried herself to sleep when she spoke again. Her voice was so tired and weak.

"They waited until you were gone. They didn't want you to come back if you heard me scream." He closed his eyes and tightened his grip on her. He had asked, but now he wasn't sure he could handle hearing what they did before throwing her to the bear. "It took 8 of them to hold me while they took off the dress. They said I would appreciate having it later. They weren't lying. Fighting the bear naked would have been dreadful."

She rolled over so she was facing him, but she couldn't look at him. She lowered her head to rest against his chest. She ran her fingers over the burns on her wrists. "Then they tied me to the bed, gagged me, and then they all left. I struggled to get loose. The only thing I could really do was move my legs. I could pull my knees together, but that was about it. And I suspect that my height was the only reason for that. Then he came in," she shivered, "Locke. He walked around me and watched me start to tremble. I couldn't control it. He stopped by my head and leaned down to whisper in my ear that he hadn't cared what order they would have fucked me in while in the woods, but when the Kingslayer said my father would want me un-besmirched that he knew he would be taking my virginity for himself. That taking something irreplaceable was better than any ransom in the world. The Kingslayer's hand and the Beauty's virtue." She drew in a ragged breath. She wasn't sure she should go on, but when he used the bandaged stump that was once his hand to rub her back in comfort, she decided to continue. They had both suffered their own losses to that monster.

"He moved to the foot of the bed. He already had his... you know... out. I clenched my knees as hard as I could. He had tried to pull them apart, but he couldn't. I felt a wave of satisfaction until his dagger dug into my hip. He slowly drug the blade through the flesh of my leg before pulling it out at the knee. He leaned as close as he could and said, 'I am going to fuck you. It will be my cock or it will be my knife, the choice is yours.' Gods, I couldn't stop the tears that fell. I had been so determined to fight, but at that moment I gave in. I have never hated myself more than when I spread my legs for him nor how loud the scream in my throat was when he entered me. I hadn't wanted to give him that, but it hurt so much more than I imagined it would." Her body was shaking with her sobs again.

"I will see him killed for this." Jaime was filled with more rage than he had felt in a decade. His left arm slid under her neck and wrapped around her protectively. He would give anything to go back in time.

"Kill them all." She whispered.

"We will. We will see them dead." He hoped he could keep this promise. She deserved to have this fulfilled.

"If only we had a dragon to finish that cursed castle off. And all of them could burn up inside of it like Harren and his sons."

"Locke wasn't the only one, was he?" He didn't know why he asked. He really didn't want to know. He wanted to believe that Locke had finished quickly and then thrown her to the bear. The reality was that he hadn't returned until the next day.

She shook her head against him. "I stopped counting sometime during the night. I didn't want to know anymore. Hard to imagine that the bear was the least damaging of them all."

"I am so sorry..."

"Jaime..."

"No. I am sorry. If I hadn't been an ass on that bridge we may have never been taken. If I had just gone with you. We had the same mission after all- get to Kings Landing safely. Had I only gone along and worked with you, we would have arrived together, whole, and mostly unscathed. This is all because of me."

"You do have a point." She finally looked up at him, but he saw a smirk on her face. It reached all the way to her eyes and caused them to brighten. He had never seen a more beautiful sight.

"Can you forgive me?"

"Of course I can. And if we are being honest, if I had not treated you so poorly, mayhaps our travels would have been less hostile in regards to each other. She raised her head up a bit more to rest next to his on the pillow. She was safe here. The had a tremulous friendship, but she trusted him. She supposed this meant that they had a truce after all. "I do need a favor though..."

"I jumped into a bear pit after you, what more could you want?" He japed. She shook her head and rolled her eyes so he understood that she knew he was joking. "Yes, Brienne. Anything I can do, I will do."

"I have never been to Kings Landing." She paused, she hated that she needed to even say the words. "I don't know where to go to get moon tea. Not that I would know where to go even if I had been..."

"Of course. We will get you a good supply. If I was in your position, I would drink nothing else for a fortnight."

"That is not a bad idea. I want no part of any of them taking root in me."

"Oh gods..." His stomach rolled. The thought of her having to bear a little rat-faced bastard was too much. She was far too valiant for such torment. "I may throw up."

"I did throw up. Several times. Although, that probably had more to do with the two men who wanted my mouth more than the rest of me."

He sat up quickly, pulling his arm out from under her neck more roughly than he should have. "Oh yes. I am going to throw up." He leaned forward to hang his head between his knees and breathed deeply.

Brienne sat up behind him to rub his back. "I'm sorry. I shouldn't have said that."

"Is it true?"

"That isn't the point. I shouldn't have said it."

"So it is."

"Yes." She whispered.

"You of all people didn't deserve this." His voice was low.

"No one does. At least I chose to be in this war. Innkeeper's wives and daughter's didn't. Village women didn't. Girls who have nothing else in life except to sell their flesh didn't ask for this either. It hurts now. Immensely and in many ways. I will probably hate myself for some time. I don't know if I will ever sleep without nightmares creeping in. However, I will live- thanks to you. Life will go on. I will bring the Stark girls home to their mother. My life will continue to have purpose and I will go on. Just as you will despite the loss of your sword hand." She was fading, she could feel it. Her hand was still on Jaime's back and her forehead rested next to it. The haze from the wine still sat heavy in her head.

"You are stronger than I could ever be." Here she was- bruised and beaten and broken. Yet she was comforting him. She was assuring him that everything would be alright. How weak could he allow himself to be? It should be him holding her. It should be him rubbing her back and telling her that she was strong and that she would go on. Instead he was the one receiving her comfort as he tried not to vomit after hearing what she had gone through. He didn't even have the whole story. Only a few bits and pieces. She had endured it and was so much more together than he was.

"Don't sell yourself so short, Ser Jaime. You were captured in battle and held captive for a year. After which you had your hand cut off and survived the loss of blood as well as the fever that followed."

"That last part was because of you. When you said I sounded like a bloody woman. I couldn't die." A smile cut across his face as he looked back at her, which she returned.

"Who sounds like a bloody woman now?" She chucked at her own jape.

"You are a bloody woman, remember?"

"Right." She laid back down on the bed. Jaime sat for a few moments in silence. He wanted to lay back down with her, but he wasn't sure she would be receptive anymore. As if reading his mind, Brienne's voice cut into his thoughts, "You can stay... If you want."

"I do want to." He eased himself down next to her and wrapped his arms around her once again. He wanted her to know she was safe, but he also selfishly needed her to ground him. How was he going to let her go once they got to Kings Landing?