Gentle Giant
The sound of water rushing down a stream echoed in Bran's head. He was aware of nothing else, and all of his five senses were focused on the stream. He heard the stream of water course over the pebbles and rocks, and saw the water, clear and swift. Bran could smell the freshness of it. The scent of the water somehow calmed him, and he could taste the cool water on his lips when Hodor bent down so he could drink. Bran felt the water trickle down his face in tiny droplets, soothing his tense muscles. He splashed some of the water on his face and then his hair. The cold and soothing water felt good. Bran was at peace, and he focused intently on it, hoping to never let go. If he did, then he would be overcome with emotions he couldn't even handle. His eyes stung, and the boy knew that water wasn't in his eyes. Tears welled into his eyes until he couldn't hold them back. They flowed down onto his cheeks, mixing with the water on his face.
"Hodor?" Hodor asked gently, aware of Bran's heightened emotions. The stable boy eased Bran down onto the forest floor, making certain not to damage his motionless legs. He then started to wipe away the boy's tears.
"Hodor…" Bran whispered. He knew that the stable boy was always kind, even when he didn't understand the world around him. Hodor wouldn't know that Old Nan, his great-grandmother, was dead. Hodor wouldn't understand that Winterfell had been sacked and that they didn't have a home to go to. A stab of jealously pierced Bran. Hodor wouldn't know…he wouldn't… Silently he began to cry again, thick tears dripping down his cheeks. Each time Hodor would gently caress them away.
Lady Catelyn Stark, Bran's mother, was dead. She had been killed during the Red Wedding. When he first heard the news from Samwell Tarly, a man of the Night's Watch, the boy didn't believe him. His older brother had been murdered too, along with Grey Wind, Robb's direwolf. Bran had searched in Summer's mind, hoping to find the story untrue, but he only felt Summer's grief, sharp as glass thorns. He felt his direwolf's pain at both their brother's murders. They howled together, until Jojen Reed had called Bran back into the dark and unforgiving reality. His lady mother didn't even know that he and Rickon were alive when she had died. That had pained Bran beyond comprehension. Meera and Jojen Reed were gone, hunting for their next meal. Summer had gone with them. Bran had tried connecting with his direwolf, but he was too far from him to shed his human skin into a wolf's. He and Hodor were alone.
"I wonder what she thought as she died." Bran whispered to Hodor. Although many people considered the stable boy a simpleton, Bran was convinced that Hodor was more than that. He almost understood Bran's grief over his father, mother, brother, and sisters, more than even Meera could hope to understand. It was as if he could understand what Bran was saying, what anyone was saying. Hodor was more than Bran's legs. "She must have thought of Father," Bran continued. He watched the smooth water circling around the tiny pebbles. "She loved him very much."
"Hodor," said Hodor as he agreed.
"Or she could have been thinking of Robb, Sansa, or Arya." Bran knew that his mother loved her five children very much, and was devastated once they became separated because of the War of the Five Kings. "She could have been thinking of me, Hodor. She thought of me as dead." His voice was barely audible. "She thought that Theon murdered Rickon and I. I don't think he could have murdered us though," he added with a faint smile. "He's too much of a coward." Bran was silent for a moment, not saying anything. He noticed that Hodor was rubbing his back in gentle strokes, soothing his troubled mind. "I never got to say goodbye, Hodor. That's what pains me the most. She only saw me broken and dying from my fall. Mother will never see what I'll become." Tears welled in his eyes again, and he angrily brushed them away.
"Hodor," Hodor murmured soothingly, continuously rubbing Bran's back. "Hodor."
Tears flowed free from Bran's eyes, and for the first time he wasn't ashamed to cry. Hodor's gentle humming soothed the young boy into sleep. He felt his eyes closing, but he had to tell Hodor something that he hadn't told his friend before.
"Thank you, Hodor."