The characters of this story belong to George R R Martin and I write only for my own amusement.

English is not my native language so feel free to correct me :)

The courtyard of Winterfell was finally silent, after a long day of work. The people who lived in the castle were eating their dinner or were already in their beds.
Meera was leaning against a wall, quiet, looking at the clean sky. She had been living there for three years now, since the ending of the war, to help Bran and Rickon who wanted to rebuild their house. Now that the castle was restored to its former beauty she was free to go back to her house, but she wanted to protect them so she stayed.
"Liar" said a little voice inside her head "You just don't want to leave Bran".
"Of course, he's my prince. I want to be here if he needs me" she answered to herself. It was a lie, a ridiculous lie. Bran had a lot of servants, he did not need her.
Still, she wanted to stay. Did she like him more than she did once? Was she starting to see him in a different way? She had been trying to figure it out for weeks, but finding an answer was too difficult.
Meera had just decided to go to bed when Rickon called her.
"Yes, my lord?"
"Bran askes if you can go to his room, he wants to discuss something" answered Rickon.
Meera tried to guess what could be the reason to talk at night, but she obeyed and went to him. The door was closed, so she knocked and entered the room "What can I do for you my prince?"
Bran sat on his bed. The little boy she once knew had become a slender young man. He had been reading a book, as he always did before sleeping, since during the day he was too busy being the lord of Winterfell.
"Do you remember how you used to kiss me when I was a kid?" he asked. Meera smiled "You were a lovely kid, my lord".
"I never returned those kisses" said Bran hoping that his voice was not shaking because his heart was thumping in his chest "May I do it now?"
"Of course you may" said Meera surprised and she sat smiling on his bed.
"You must close your eyes" ordered Bran. I am never going to make it if you don't.
Meera obeyed and leant towards him to let him kiss her cheek. But Bran placed his lips on her neck. Meera gasped but kept her eyes shut.
"Do you want me to stop?" asked Bran shyly.
Meera was too surprised to think and she heard herself answer "No".
A moment later she felt Bran's lips on her collarbone. They were warm and incredibly soft, but firm.
If they had told her only one hour before that Bran Stark would have kissed her and that she would have liked it, Meera would have never believed it.
But now she thought that his mouth on her skin was the best feeling in the world.
The boy went on, placing his lips on her jaw, on her left cheek, on her cheekbone. Meera felt herself blushing: she liked it, more than she would admit.
Seven hells, Prince Bran - she thought - who taught you to kiss like this?
She sat there clenching the blanket with her hands, savouring that new sensation. When he kissed her near her mouth, Meera's heart started beating faster. She did not dare to open her eyes and look at him, but she wanted him to go on.
His face was so near now that the tip of his nose almost touched hers. Meera felt the warmness of his breath.
Bran immersed his fingers in her hair and Meera opened her eyes: they looked at each other for a moment, then she leant towards and kissed him.
She had been wrong. The feeling of his lips on her neck wasn't the best feeling in the world. Kissing those lips was the best feeling in the world.
The boy placed a hand on her back drawing her closer and Meera started feeling as she did when she was hunting in the woods: she wanted more.
Without stopping to kiss him, she pulled up his tunic and caressed his back, his shoulders, his neck. His skin was warm and smooth and his heart was thumping in his chest when she passed her hand on it.
Meera put her hands on his shoulders and sat on his lap. She smiled at his expression, a mixture of shyness and excitement.
Bran thanked the gods for her practical clothes when she threw her shirt away in a few seconds, knowing that a corset would have requested much more effort. She pushed him down, and started kissing his face, his neck, feeling that she would never have enough. You are mine now, my prince- she thought - Only mine.
But he was a wolf after all. With a quick move he rolled on top of her and pinned her down: his legs could not move but his arms were very strong.
He grinned at her surprised expression and she stopped breathing for a second, waiting for him to do something.
The boy slid a hand under her skirt and gently stroke her thigh. Then he placed it bethween her legs.
His hand moved slowly making her quiver while she tried not to moan. "Do you want me to stop?" he asked for the second time.
"You have to begin first" she answered mischievously.