The Bite of Winter

Brienne

One month after Robb learned the truth

The Riverlands were a war zone. In a matter of months, the once fertile green fields had been blackened by fire. Towns were turned to little more than dust and orphans hid in the woods. The horses were on edge, as large packs of wolves seemed to be raiding towns and farms as often as Lannister troops. Common folk hanging from trees was a daily sight.

Brienne had quickly learned that Podrick was a quiet boy. He only spoke when prompted, for the most part. The devastation around him made him even quieter. Some days, he wouldn't even utter a single word. When they had first seen the men hanging in the trees, he had turned as white as marble. She worried that he would faint and fall from his buckskin gelding. 

Ignoring the boy's quiet nature, Brienne found herself liking him. He worked hard, oftentimes he would wake before her and ready the horses so that they could leave first thing in the morning. When they first set out, he knew little of what an actual squire's duties were. He could pour a goblet of wine, and that was about it. He quickly learned how to properly groom and tack the horses, skin and cook a rabbit, build a fire, and set up camp. 

He was growing to be a capable swordsman and a decent enough rider. His riding had come a long way in a short period of time, he understood leg yields, collection, and distances when approaching jumps. His seat bounced, but otherwise, he excelled in the mechanics of riding. His skill with a sword was a similar story. He understood all the concepts that Brienne taught him, but his form needed strengthening. Brienne hoped that as he became a man, muscle mass would help him improve. 

Brienne's dun let loose a nervous knicker as they approached an inn, that looked to still be operational. As they approached, a set of courses were tied outside. Brienne dismounted. "Im going to go in and ask a few questions. Wait here with the horses." She said as Pod slid from his gelding. She handed him the reins and watched as he led the horses to the water trough. 

The inn reeked of ale and sweat. Lannister men sat in the far corner, drinking wine and singing merrily. Brienne found herself wondering if these men contributed to the devastation outside the inn's doors. They seemed harmless as they acted more like rowdy boys than soldiers. 

She turned her attention to the inn keep, who was a middle-aged woman with greying blonde hair. Her nose had been badly broken at some point in the past, but her smile seemed genuine. "Hello m'lady. How can I help you?"

"I'm looking for my sister. She is a girl of about one and three. She had auburn hair and blue eyes. She is quite beautiful. She may have been heading to the Vale or the North."

The woman's mouth formed a hard line. "Im sorry, m'lady. I haven't seen anyone who matched that description, nor have I heard any rumors." 

Brienne could feel her face fall. This was a response that she should has received on a dozen occasions when she had asked other inn keeps or merchants the same question. She found herself taking a seat at the bar, not out of want of a drink, but the weight of her despair growing. 

The inn keep looked at Brienne, sorrow in her eyes. "I truly am sorry. Ever since the young wolf fell, many girls have been taken from their homes by raiders. I understand how you must feel." She tried to comfort.

"Have you heard any word of the North?" Brienne asked, almost absent-mindedly. Maybe Sansa had been captured there? 

"Not particularly. Stannis captured the Greyjoy princess and the Bolton's have taken Winterfell." The woman answered. "There are a few odd rumors, but none of them have proven any merit."

Brienne's brow creased. "Like what?" 

"There have been whispers that the young wolf survived the Red Wedding."

"How?" Hope sparked in Brienne.

"For a few days after the Red Wedding, the Frey's were searching the woods for something. Whatever it was, it had to have been important as they had patrols out day and night. However, those patrols halted and most everyone assumed that it was just a procession in case a soldier got loose. Then someone saw some recently on the road, traveling north. He looked exactly like old Hoster Tully and matched the description of the young wolf. He also had a dire wolf with him."

Brienne could barely believe it. Common folk loved to talk. This boy from the rumors could have easily been a fisherman or farmer traveling with his dog. But what if it was the young wolf? What if Lady Sansa found him? What if he knew where Lady Arya went?

"It does sound like quite the rumor." She whispered. "I must be on my way. Thank you." Brienne stood and left the bar, partially in a daze.

She took her horse from Pod and mounted in. 

"Where are we going, my lady--- err-- Ser," Pod asked. It was the first time he had spoken in a few days. 

"North." Brienne gave her horse a kick and they set off.