Why We Need To Stop Shipping Brienne and Tormund
Flames crackle in the fireplace, the pops and snaps penetrating the heavy silence. The Army of the Dead, led by the Night King, looms, closing in with each passing hour and this unusual collection of warriors sits in the Great Hall of Winterfell, trading war stories while they wait.
At one point, Tyrion Lannister addresses Brienne of Tarth as “Ser,” though he quickly corrects himself to the more appropriate “Lady Brienne.”
Beside her, a surprised Tormund Giantsbane asks, “She’s not a Ser? You are not a knight?”
“Women can’t be knights,” Brienne explains. When he presses for a reason, she tells him, “Tradition.”
“Fuck tradition,” Tormund quips, adding, “I’m no King, but if I was I’d knight you ten times over.”
This innuendo is the latest in a long line of affection Tormund has directed at Brienne from the very first moment she rode into Castle Black and crossed paths with his adoring gaze. He’s lovesick, following her around and giving her suggestive looks over dinner. Hours before he championed her Knighting in the Great Hall, he arrived at Winterfell and the first thing he asked was, “The big woman still here?”
