The Dalyngridge Girl ➝ Bran Stark

IV.

Bran had awoken, and Mare couldn't be more ecstatic. With Arya gone to King's Landing and Bran in his coma, she had no one to play with. She was glad that her wait was finally over.

However, Mare couldn't help but notice how irritable and stubborn Bran was now. She would try to speak with him, make him laugh, or even attempt to tell him the day's news and he would stare at her coldly without speaking. Deep down she knew that it was because he was realizing that he would never walk again. She felt bad, like she wanted to take away all his pain and suffering and go through it all herself. Sometimes, she found herself wishing that it was her who fell and not him. There would be a lot less drama if it had been her. She was just a peasant.

Mare fiddled with the map of Westeros laid out on the wooden table, bending and creasing the corners out of boredom. She loved learning about all the kingdoms and territories and the past kings and queens, but at that moment she found it completely insufferable.

"I don't know the words of the Lannisters," Bran remarked, digging his metal fish trinket into the wood of the table.

"Yes you do. Think, Bran," Maester Luwin said, tapping his wooden instructing rod onto the map.

"Their words are, 'Hear me roar,'" Mare muttered, not taking her eyes off the target that Theon Greyjoy was shooting arrows into. "'A Lannister always pays his debt' is just a common thing those snakes say."

"But I don't understand. Their sigil is of a lion," Bran said curiously.

Without movement, she spoke. "Is it?"

"It's not polite to speak of the Lannisters that way," the maester scolded, tapping Mare's hand lightly. It brought her back to the attention of the map, and as the scanned over it she realized that she knew every house, sigil, and their words by heart. It was just something she studied when she was bored.

"Maester Luwin, can you tell me again what the words of House Tully are?" Bran asked coldly. His words were dripping with sarcasm but Mare decided that it was best not to put her two sense into the matter.

"Bran, you know them." The old man paused. "Are we playing a game?"

"I believe it's 'Family, duty, honor,' am I correct?"

"You are," Maester Luwin said unsurely.

"Oh, good. Family before duty. Family comes first," Bran said stubbornly. Maester Luwin sighed.

"You know your mother had to leave Winterfell, and I suppose you know why. She was going to protect the family."

"Yes but how can you protect the family if you aren't with the family?" he said through clenched teeth. Maester Luwin sighed again.

"Your mother sat by your bed for three weeks before you awoke. She didn't leave you, not once."

"But she did leave me. She's gone now," he muttered.

"Brandon, when your mother gave birth to you I was the one that pulled you from her. From that day, until the day she dies, she will love you," Maester Luwin said, trying to make eye contact with Bran. But he was too stubborn to look up; he kept his head down, scraping away at the wooden table with his little metal fish.

"Where is she? Today?" Bran asked, a harshly sharp edge to his voice.

"I don't know, Bran," Maester Luwin said.

"Then how do you know she'll be back soon?" Bran asked, the same venomous tinge to his words.

Maester Luwin sighed for what must have been the fifth time. "Sometimes I wonder if you're too smart for your own good."

---

That night, Mare had a dream about the night she was nearly killed.

All around her, houses were burning to the ground. Black smoke filled the air as if it were coming from the pipe of a chronic smoker. She could see bloodied bodies littered around the ground like stones on a road. There were so many of them. It was sickening.

Through the haze, Mare felt a pain like never before. The exact pain she had felt the night she was stabbed in the abdomen. It felt like she was reliving the moment. She could feel herself falling to the ground, and suddenly warm grass was underneath her; tickling her bare forearms. A warm sensation was spreading through her body, but it wasn't pain. She could feel her soul leaving her very body, but all she could feel was relief.

Around her, she could hear the choked screams and shouts of men and women. They seemed to ebb away almost as if she were underwater. Soon, all she heard was nothing, and all she saw was white.

The little blonde girl awoke to the feeling of her heart stopping. She frantically pounded at her chest, terrified that she had just died in her sleep. But to her relief, her heart was very much still beating. She hobbled out of her bed and threw on her cloak quickly, slipping into her shoes and running out of her room. Down the halls of the castle she went, grabbing a torch from the wall and making her way outside into the cold night.

Above her, the stars were smiling down on her. She felt more calm than she had in weeks. She felt an eerie feeling set into her bones; one that told her that the calm wouldn't last for long.