Bran Stark

"Awake, I am still broken, but when I sleep, when I'm Summer, I can run and fight and hear and smell." Part of the goupr kingdomofseven

[thornedmargaery-blog]

“There’s nothing to forgive,” Margaery assured with a warm smile. “It has been tiring, I’m sure–we’ve all felt the stress of the attack on the Wall, though not so powerfully as the Watchmen.” With his not-quite-an-invitation, she stepped back into the room. “His Grace has sent a battalion Northward, and my lord brother has started to gather men fit to take the black from the Reach…but it is all so strange. I hear so many conflicting reports of what it truly was.”

[crippledwolfprince-blog]

A sigh escaped the young man as he nodded. It was tiring, and frustrating. It did not help that Bran knew what it truly was, he still had to listen to and understand the doubts among the rest of the people. And even knowing the threat gave him no idea of what could be done to face it except what Renly did, send men to fight it for as long as possible. “It is strange indeed, it is good to hear both King Renly and your brother is doing so much, I certainly do hope the rest of the rulers do what they can as well.”

[thornedmargaery-blog]

“Your Grace,” Margaery greeted with a soft smile as she entered the council chambers. “I’m sorry to disturb you–I was told that Ser Penrose might’ve made his way here, and I thought to steal him for a few moments…” It was not exactly the truth–she had been told that Penrose had been mingling about the chambers, and she had been interested in speaking with him, but she’d known that Bran Stark would be there and had gone for that purpose. “I’ll see myself out, instead–I’d not intended to bother you.”

[crippledwolfprince-blog]

It would be so easy to let her go and just be alone. The childish voice inside of Bran said to let the queen go and just let himself slip into Summer and run. He couldn’t listen to that voice of course, he was a prince, not a child. “Forgive me my rudeness, your grace,” he said, “I’m not quite myself I’m afraid. It has been a tiring day, but I do assure you you’re no bother.” 

[crippledwolfprince-blog]

Bran was back in King’s Landing. This was where he needed to be, where he had to be because he was on the council and they needed to discuss this new threat and come up with things that could be done about it. And because of this threat he desperately wanted to go back North. Not to seek danger, but because he should be with his family. He’d wanted to beg them to come south. He’d even written a letter to Robb. He hadn’t sent it of course, but he had written it and wanted to send it. He knew Robb couldn’t leave, he was the king and the North needed him now, but Bran worried for his family who lived so close to the Wall. 

This fear and anger was why he was so exhausted outside the council meetings. And why, when a guest entered he hardly even turned his head to see who entered. “What is it?” He asked, before turning his head slowly towards the door.

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Myrcella smiled at his compliment. She liked being wise over beautiful. “Thank you, your grace. I think you are very wise as well.” She returned, believing it as well. He must be, why else would Robb put him on the council? She hesitated at his comments. “Justice is unfortunately a double edged sword, your grace. Just as innocents are harmed in war, innocents are harmed in the name of justice. It is the way of the world, and we must do what is best for the masses, not for the single individual. I’ve been shown great mercy, I have no right to complain.” She insisted. 

The former princess was glad to leave the conversation inside. She welcomed the cold even though it seemed to sting her skin. It was better, to have something to do with her hands, something else to think of. She watched him, smiling as he was helped down into the snow with her. She thought about the name, carefully adjusting her molded blocks of snow to form the base of their castle. 

“Hm,” She thought. “It ought to be something strong.” She considered possible names, uncertain what to settle on. “But also hopeful, for the future.” She decided. “What about Summerfell?” She asked, a smirk forming on her lips. “An irony, a castle of snow, named for the summer.” She teased. 

[crippledwolfprince-blog]

Bran watched as Myrcella shaped the snow with her hands and a castle began to take form in the snow, slowly but surely. It was fascinating in a way to watch a grown woman build a castle in the snow like this, as if they were still children in Winterfell. 

“I like it,” he decleared about her name suggestion, the irony of it was funny in such a simple way. Summerfell, it was beautiful really, a hope for warmth and happiness. “It is a good name for a castle.” In the North they were always aware that winter would come, and they tried to be prepared, but the prince found a sense of beauty in being aware that summer would return as well, that it wouldn’t be winter forever.

“You’re a good builder,” he commented, watching how she handled the snow, “this will certainly be a great castle.” He was excited, although he didn’t participate in the building process it was fun to watch Myrcella.

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Myrcella offered the prince a smile. “I can see why Prince Trystane considers you a friend. You’re very kind, Bran.” She murmured, glancing to her hand. “I wish they wouldn’t either, but they are human, the same as me. We all have..our desires, our faults.” She swallowed some, lifting her eyes. “We must choose to love them anyway, but also disapprove of their actions.” 

“I am eager to meet Summer then.” She smiled, her voice soft. “I am certain I will love him as well.” She offered, but shook her head. “No, I didn’t..but, it was still wrong. Lady wasn’t even responsible. Nobody innocent should ever be made to pay for someone else’s mistakes and crimes, even if they’re sort of family.” She insisted, but her face paled at the realization of what she’d said. “I..I mean, with the wolves the..” She hesitated. “I didn’t mean that the way it sounded, forgive me, your grace.” She murmured. 

The former princess welcomed the change in tone. She could focus on building, it would be much better. “I do think so, I’m pleased to do all the work.” She teased slightly, and then nodded, rising from her chair. She walked with him and his guards outside the castle, the cold a bit overwhelming, but she didn’t let it stop her. She knelt in the snow, thankful for gloved hands, and began to mold the frozen snow into shapes. “What shall we name our castle, your grace?” She asked softly. 

[crippledwolfprince-blog]

Bran listened as the former princess spoke, there was a depth to her that he could not help but admire, even as he felt for her in all her pain. “You’re a wise woman, Myrcella,” he acknowledged with a kind smile. 

When she went on to talk about how no one should be made to pay for their family’s mistakes he nodded along, up until the point where she clarified that she was talking about Lady. “No, that goes for you too,” he argued, “it’s wrong to make you pay for the crimes of others, whether you see it that way or not. I’ve always thought that.” Even when he had been angry and wanted every single Lannister gone he had known it was unwarranted and unfair. 

When they made it outside Bran got his guards to help him out of the chair and down in the snow. Having to support himself with his hands he wasn’t of much help, but at least he was down in the snow with her, not passively watching from the chair. “I don’t know,” he said, “do you have any ideas? You’re the chief builder after all.”

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Myrcella forced a smile at his comment. “It doesn’t take the blame away, your grace.” She murmured. “My family continues to harm those I respect, and those I admire, and those I love. I can’t stop them, though I wish I could. It just..is very frustrating. I have to love them, they’re my family, but they couldn’t possibly love me.” Or else her mother would stop, her grandfather would stop. 

“I envy your direwolf.” She murmured, though she wasn’t sure she did. She loved animals, but she wasn’t sure she envied them. They were vulnerable, just as she was. “I would love to meet him. I am sure he’s a beautiful creature. Lady certainly was.” She confessed. “I am sorry, for what happened to her.” She added quickly. 

She nodded, “Yes, its very fun. I like the feel of sand in my hands.” She admitted. “Ruining them is the best part.” She managed half a laugh. “It’s too stuffy in here. Why don’t we go outside and build a snow castle?” She offered, desperate for some simple fun, something to distract from all that bothered her. 

[crippledwolfprince-blog]

Bran listened to Myrcella. He couldn’t understand how she could love those people, but she sounded sincere to him, and her pain was undeniable. He looked at her and smiled sadly, “I’m sorry, Myrcella,” he said, “I truly feel for you and I wish your family wouldn’t cause you this kind of pain.”

He couldn’t even imagine feeling like his family didn’t love him, “I can assure you Summer will love you though, he is a good judge of character. Lady was beautiful, but that’s from another lifetime, and you had nothing to do with that.” It grieved him that Myrcella carried all this guilt with her. 

The suggestion to build a snow castle made him smile, perhaps that would be a chance to move on from all the pain between them. “I’d love to build a snow castle with you,” he said, “I haven’t in so long, and I’m not sure how much help I’ll be, but it’ll be a good way to unwind don’t you think?” He finished his glass of wine and set it down. “I’ll have my guards escort us outside.”

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Myrcella knew she’d done no wrong herself, but it didn’t alleviate the guilt she felt. It was hard not to, when she was constantly being told otherwise. She took a breath, exhaling through her nose. “That is kind of you to say, your grace. I just..” She looked to her feet, true pain in her heart. She was conflicted. Tommen was what mattered most, and he loved the Starks too, she thought, and she worried for him, she just didn’t want further harm to come to the Starks. “I wish things had been different.” She confessed. 

She new it was completely to do with her that his guards were reluctant, but she tried not to let it bother her. At the mention of the wedding, Myrcella felt her heart break a little more, but kept smiling anyway. “The wedding was beautiful, I’m sorry my family ruined that as well. My mother has a habit of destroying all things beautiful.” She murmured, the instinct to put down her family almost instant. She didn’t even know if it was Cersei’s plan. The wedding had been horrible for her. It had been cruel for her. Let them burn the Rock, but seeing Trystane wed was agony. 

Myrcella nodded, understanding what it was like to miss home. “I am glad that you were able to return home. Where is Summer?” She asked curiously. Myrcella forced a smile, “Bran, of course.” She agreed. “I don’t remember much of the North from when I was little, but I did find the snow beautiful. And your sister showed me how to make the perfect snowballs. I liked that. Have you ever built a sandcastle?” She asked. 

[crippledwolfprince-blog]

Bran regretted bringing up the wedding almost as soon as he’d mentioned it. It couldn’t possibly be a happy memory for Myrcella. Not for anyone, but he remembered how she’d been treated after it and he should have known better than to bring it up. When she apologized he just smiled at her, “I don’t hold you responsible for what your family does.”

When she mentioned Summer he was all too happy to change the subject from the disastrous wedding. “Summer is out in the woods, enjoying the nature in the North while we’re here.” He himself was looking forward to getting to experience that himself later when he was alone and could safely do so. “You’ll get a chance to meet him while you’re here if you want. He’s quite the sight up close.” 

Sandcastles. Bran thought about it for a few seconds. “Oh you make them in sand,” he said then, as a child he’d lived here and after he moved farther south he was way past the age of sand castles. “I haven’t, no. But I’ve made many a castle in the snow. Arya would always ruin them to get me to chase her.” He smiled happily, “do you like sand castles?”

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Myrcella smiled just a little more. “I pray I have given them no reason to, though I would not blame them if they did, your grace. I am afraid I have caused many people much pain, and I cannot express how grateful I am for the kindness shown to me.” She answered, pretty painted words presented to the young prince. He seemed older than her, though she knew he was two years younger than she was. He’d just matured. She remembered telling Joffrey once that they were children, that they ought be childish, but they weren’t children anymore. 

The former princess fought to keep the frown from her lips when his guards hesitated. She was no threat to anyone. She was permitted no weapons, and she didn’t know how to wield them anyway, and more than that, she’d never harm Bran. Even after all this time it still hurt to be seen as a criminal, to be seen as a threat. She glanced to her guards, wondering if they’d let her be. After all, they wouldn’t go far, and Myrcella would have to pass by Bran’s guards to leave the room. What was she going to do, jump from the window? She tried not to think of it. “Please.” She murmured to her guards, as they left as well. 

She managed a smaller smile at his explanation. “It is alright your grace. I understand your guards concerns and am glad that you have reliable men protecting you.” She murmured, but there was hurt in her eyes, that she couldn’t hide. She welcomed the distraction. “Of course not, your grace.” She reassured. She rose from the chair again and walked to the small table. She picked the wine up, and carefully poured it into a cup. She carried it back to him, giving it to him. She took none herself. She didn’t much like the taste, a surprise to everyone considering her mother, and she wanted a clear head. “It is nice to be in the North again.” She offered, “I haven’t felt the cold in years..” She admitted. “And the snow is beautiful.” 

[crippledwolfprince-blog]

“Nonsense,” Bran protested, in a kind and gentle, but also firm voice “you have done nothing to harm any of us.” He hadn’t even considered the thought that Myrcella would see herself as guilty in all the things half the realms seemed to blame her for, and to hear that she thought she had caused anyone pain shocked him. “You’re not responsible for any of the things your family has done, and none of my siblings think you are.”

He sighed, “Don’t worry about my guards, it has nothing to do with you, they are just concerned with doing their job right, especially after the wedding and at a huge gathering like this one.” Her relation to the Lannisters probably didn’t help, but he wouldn’t say that. It was ridiculous to hold any of this against Myrcella.

“Thank you,” he said, accepting the cup. “I am truly glad to hear you like it here. I do miss the North greatly when I’m in King’s Landing. It may be a bit cold to some people, but I personally love the snow, it is beautiful. And Summer loves playing in it.” as did he, through his wolf of course. “Oh and Myrcella, you don’t need to say your grace when it’s just the two of us, I’ve never been one for formalities.”

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Myrcella was surprised to see the smile on Bran’s face. Was he happy to see her? But why? She represented all the pain in the world. How could he smile when he saw her? She tried to push away the thoughts that had consumed her, but it was hard. She felt like her facade of perfect happiness would shatter any moment, but she couldn’t let it fall. She couldn’t let them see her struggle, it would only bring questions that she didn’t want to answer. 

She smiled, a genuine smile, amused by his joke, but quickly let it settle into a much smaller smile, not wanting to offend him. Her parents had done that to him, or that was what she’d been told. “There is nothing to forgive your grace, your family has been nothing but kind and welcoming to me. I am very grateful.” She murmured, her voice soft and gentle. 

Myrcella went through what she knew of the Stark prince. He was Robb’s heir, currently, and on the small council, with Trystane. Other than that, she knew he liked to climb, or had liked to climb. She was surprised yet again when he asked her to join him. “I would be honored your grace.” She agreed, though she knew there were far more important and better people for Bran to sit with than a bastard. Still, she walked with him and his guards, her own following. She knew there were invisible shackles on her hands as her guards followed her. He was free, when she was not. His guards meant safety, hers meant..well they were supposed to mean safety too. But wasn’t Bran confined too, because of his inability to walk? It must be horrible, and Myrcella felt the guilt rise. 

She sat down in the chair after they reached the sitting room. “It is very nice to see you again, your grace.” She offered politely. “Can I get you anything, tea perhaps or wine?” She offered, though he was technically hosting her. She just wanted to make things right, to be kind to him, plus it kept her busy, kept her from thinking of Tommen and Stannis and her nightmares that weren’t always pretend. 

[crippledwolfprince-blog]

Bran smiled when she accepted his offer and instructed his own guards to take them inside. “I am glad my family has been good to you,” he said as his chair was being carried beside her. It would have upset him if any of his siblings had treated Myrcella poorly. Even he who hated the Lannister family so strongly wouldn’t dream to hold her responsible for what her family had done. 

When they reached the sitting room Bran addressed the guards first, “you may leave us now,” he told them before turning to face Myrcella. His guards hesitated to move and he sighed, turning to them again, “it’s alright, I trust the lady not to harm me. One of you can wait outside the door in case anything should happen. Somewhat reluctantly his guards agreed to leave the room. 

“I suspect Robb gets them to watch me extra closely, either that or they want to impress him. They’re always a lot more careful when we’re in Winterfell.” It was ridiculous really, even though he could’t walk he doubted Myrcella would be able to hurt him if she wished to. He hadn’t warged into a human since the war, but in a life or death situation he was fairly sure he could. His guards didn’t know of his abilities of course, with the exception of one that had walked in on him while he was in Summer and his body was left in his chair. And even him only knew a little. 

“I would enjoy a cup of wine, if you wouldn’t mind,” he said, thankful that she offered, saving him from the awkwardness of not being able to. 

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Myrcella couldn’t shake the nightmare that had plagued her at the inn with Tommen. It had been a few days but she still had barely slept since; even though she rested in Winterfell that was far more comfortable than inns. She knew Robb had done nothing to hurt Tommen, but it had bothered her. What happened when Cersei and Tywin continued their rebellion? What happened when the Greyjoys rose up with more numbers? Tommen was at the Wall, and meant to be neutral to such things, but after all her family had done, would he not be the first one killed at the Wall? Except maybe Jaime? And that was hardly a comforting thought either. 

She tried not to think of it. There were too many people around, too many powerful people staring at her blonde curls to have her head be anything but clear. She may have told Tommen they didn’t need to play their game anymore, the high lords could have the throne, what did she care? But whether she liked it or not, she knew she had to play the game every second. Her guards walked along with her, offering small comfort. She liked them, and they seemed to like her, but she couldn’t help but wonder if they’d actually protect her. After all, Joffrey had been surrounded by whitecloaks and his head had still been taken. Would they stop Stannis from executing her? She wasn’t sure. Protecting her from robberies or assault, perhaps, but they wouldn’t protect her from kings. 

Myrcella rounded the corner, trying to avoid the gathering as much as possible though she was meant to see the power of the north. She already knew it, she didn’t need to see it. She froze at the sight of Bran, and immediately dropped herself into a curtsy, head bowed. “Prince Bran.” She greeted, her guards stiff behind her, the Dornish sigils blazoned throughout. She felt guilty, seeing Bran. Her parents had tried to kill him, and he’d been just a boy, now he was crippled, forever, it wasn’t fair. Robb should have taken her legs. Still, she had liked Bran before, and had thanked the gods day and night when he survived his fall. 

[crippledwolfprince-blog]

Bran had retreated away from the worst of the crowds. He didn’t mind the company of others, in fact he quite enjoyed it, but in gatherings like these he would rarely linger long before he withdrew to somewhere more calm where he didn’t feel like he was in the way. For the official parts of the gathering he would be seated with his siblings of course, but now was just about mingling really. 

When he saw Myrcella round a corner and approach him he wondered if she too sought away from the crowd or if she was searching for him. He assumed the former, mostly because he couldn’t imagine what Myrcella would be seeking him out for. Regardless, he was glad to see her. 

“Myrcella,” he said, a genuine smile appearing on his face. He hadn’t had much to do with the girl before, mostly just an exchange of courtesies when they were in the same place. He did however have a good impression of her, and from what he’d heard from Trystane she was a good woman, and very kind. “Do forgive me for not standing to greet you.” He’d long since reached the point where he felt comfortable joking about his condition, “Would you care to sit with me a while?”

[thornedmargaery-blog]

“It will be interesting to see how it all plays, to have a Lord from the Stormlands serving as Renly’s Hand.” Margaery trusted that Penrose was loyal–by stories she knew, the man thought of Renly like a son–but it could take the already complicated issue of Stannis and make it worse. She smiled as he praised her late father, and nodded her head. “I think that my Lord Father would have given his blessing on the decision. He did trust Renly, and with good reason.”

[crippledwolfprince-blog]

The prince had no real opinions on Penrose as of yet, but he assumed the man would be pleasant enough to work with. “It will be interesting indeed, but so long as you and your husband trust him that is what matters most.” He couldn’t imagine Robb putting anyone on the council for him if he didn’t fully trust them, which was why he’d gone with family, Bran assumed. “I would think your father was right to trust his grace, king Renly. He seems like a very capable leader.”

[thornedmargaery-blog]

She nodded in affirmation, and hummed. “He never quite tires of hearing praise, truly.” The smile on her face was warm and proud as she spoke of her closest brother. “Loras earned every bit of it himself, of course. He is terribly impressive. I’ve a limited knowledge of what makes a truly skilled knight, but even I’m able to recognize it for myself.” Sighing gently, she trailed from talk of her brother. “…But I’m very glad to know all is well here. Ser Penrose, I’m told, will be excellent at filling the role occupied by my father. My husband has good faith in him.”

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Bran was fascinated by the way Margaery spoke of her brother. She very obviously admired him, and Bran could respect that. He himself admired his own siblings greatly and he would speak highly of them when he got the chance. “He is very skilled, yes. And as for Ser Penrose I am certain he will do a good job, though he will have a hard time filling your father’s seat.”

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@crippledwolfprince Robb was at the gates when his brother arrived. He’d been assured–multiple times, in fact–that he’d be notified when the boy was back in Winterfell, but Robb was already in the courtyard sparring when the horn had gone off, and he’d seen no reason to wait. Bran’s position on the council in King’s Landing was paramount to the realm’s security and prolonged peace; truly, Robb could not have been more proud, but it did mean he reveled in the long absences. “You’re tan,” he said, helping to slow Bran’s horse as it approached, grabbing hold of the reigns then petting across the beast’s nose as it stilled. “You’re beginning to look like a true southerner.” 

[crippledwolfprince-blog]

Bran arrived in Winterfell about 700 yards ahead of his traveling party, when he saw the castle he’d urged his horse to speed up and left the party behind, uninterested in the proper way of arriving as his excitement about seeing his family again took over. “Robb” he said happily at the sight of his brother as he slowed his horse down, “it is good to see you again. Don’t let my appearance fool you, I am still a northerner to the bone, some sun will never change that, brother.” He smiled down at the king in the North.

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“That is amazing, my lord, truly. It is sometimes amazing the things we are capable of creating, is it not?” The fact that her and Bran could bond over something was comforting. Despite everything, it felt as if there was hope for her in restoring relationships with those her family had hurt. “We must go riding together. If you are ever in Dorne, it would be my pleasure to show you the area around Sunspear or the Water Gardens.” All of Westeros had vastly different scenery, yet Dorne was special to her. You could go from grasslands to a beach in a matter of minutes. “Perhaps you could pass it off as a diplomatic mission.”

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“That would be a genuine pleasure, Myrcella,” Bran said excitedly. He usually preferred to ride alone, or with Trystane once in a while. Apart from his Dornish friend the good riding company in King’s Landing was lacking. He did imagine riding with Myrcella would be fun though, and he did want to see Dorne. “I will do everything in my power to make that happen, sooner rather than later. I have been wanting to visit Dorne, and I am certain you will only make the experience better.”

[wisdominfall-blog]

“It may take some time to adjust to that but I will try my best,” Bethany agreed. It was hard enough to call Sansa by her name and Bethany had considered her a friend but if it was Bran’s wish, she would comply.  “I only know about the more recent things at the Night Watch and even that is limited. We don’t have many books on them in the Riverlands.”

[crippledwolfprince-blog]

“I appreciate that,” Bran said, more than satisfied that she would try. He knew it had to be hard to adjust to talking more casually to him. “I figure that when I have so much time and little else than reading to fill it with I should try my best to know as much as possible.” Now that his mind was all he had he wanted to do what he could with it, even if reading history still bored him.

[thornedmargaery-blog]

“That’s kind of you to say. I’ll be certain to let Loras know of your compliment–it will be sure to brighten his day to hear of it.” It was a shame that the younger Stark had once wished to be a knight–and had instead been forced into a life of bookish pursuits, where a man of his condition could prove useful. 

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Bran was glad their conversation was taking a happier turn. He much preferred this to talking about the losses they both had suffered. “I shall be glad if it does,” he said. He did not personally know the knight he’d so wished to be like, but if his praise could cheer the man up Bran considered it a good thing.

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“You can call me Bethany you know, I don’t mind such informalities.” She really didn’t, not with people she had considered her friend and House Stark was a friend of hers. “And what have you read so far? I know very little about the Nights Watch.”

[crippledwolfprince-blog]

"Alright, Bathany,” Bran said, “but only if you call me Bran, at least when we are alone. All the tittles and formalities can be so tiring.” Far away from home there were few people who dared call him by name rather than tittle these days. “For now it is mostly early history. Last night I read about the Night’s Watch during the war of conquest.”