“They can’t be dead,” she insisted as she took his hand. When Brienne stood her legs shook and she swayed but did not fall. “Careful.” She gently guided Bronn’s arm up an inch to lessen the risk of him putting his hand in her wound.
“Why would you even want-” Brienne stopped and her face crinkled up in concern. “Oh, you’re hurt too! I didn’t notice.” It was difficult to notice anything at present. “Let me-” She made an effort to straighten up and take the strain off him, though sweat beaded on her forehead and her skin was the color of milk. “Please,” she wheezed, not to Bronn but to herself, and the gods. She was praying for Pod’s survival as best she could, with the only words that were coming to mind. Please no, you can’t be dead, you’re my squire, we have to find someone who can knight you someday. If Podrick was dead Brienne’s legs would give out for a certainty and it would be much harder to convince her to rise.
“Sorry” He replied as she re-positioned his hand and looked at her with a somewhat bewildered look. “I’m fine. Honestly.” Bronn snapped as Brienne went to try to make it easier on him and he shook his head. “You are not-No” His eyes locked on the woman’s face noting the changes it was making due to the pain and wounds. Bronn himself was feeling fatigued and he had to admit his own pain was getting to him and his eyes strained as he tried to see what was in front of them and thought he saw the remains of some tent and structures. “Looks like part of the camp…”
Bronn mumbled as he noted the tracks on the snow coming out of the broken down camp and towards the area where the main camp was. “Brienne, it looks like some people managed to go back to camp, do you think you can make it that far?” He hoped there would be familiar faces there but he didn’t know what he’d do if Brienne passed out on him. He knew he couldn’t carry her and he didn’t exactly want to have to drag her body either as that seemed dangerous.
Even at near death she was demanding. Bronn supported her body with his own as a Maester came running towards Brienne doing his best to treat her wounds with where they were and what they had at hand. “I’m alive” He said at first, trying to ease the tension he was feeling by how the Lady-Knight was staring at him, so intensely. Who had lived and who had died…Bronn couldn’t count the number of bodies that lay dead. Truly dead and never to rise again.
“Arya suffered the wors’ wounds protecting Sansa, whose fine as one could hope. The dragon bitch is no more, almost survived but the ice gave way–she was dragged under by another dead man.” Bronn paused as he thought back on who he had seen alive. “I don’t know about our Lannsister men or Snow. Tyrion and Jaime…I have a feeling those bastards are alive. Jus’ haven’t seen ‘em yet.”
Goldnwulf 