When Brandon Stark felt all the memories of all the moments of the world fill his soul there were two particular images that stood out to him. One was Meera old and grey, surrounded by men and water. The moss and grass slowly growing closer on her. They twist around each other and the men before reaching Meera. His heart broke at the sight but it was gone just as fast as it had come. He saw hundreds and thousands more moments and memories before the next one that stood out appeared before him.

Arya was there, kissing a man he had seen but did not know. A voice whispers Gendry Waters in his ear. It matches Arya's lips as she pulls back and talks to him. She looks over at her brother before the two move. Suddenly they are in the Godswood at Winterfell. He's wearing Northman clothes instead of Riverland attire. They hold no cloaks but their backs were stained. Arya's grey and brown, and Gendry's grey and white. He was no wolf but wore their clothes. As if he had blinked suddenly there were wolves surrounding them. Wolves with horns like deer sprouting from their heads. A murder of ravens passes above them. Gendry holds Arya against his chest to defend her from their sight.

Then everyone but his sister was gone. Bran felt overwhelmed by grief and guilt as he watches her walk past the trees they had once played among. She was alone and her face was taunt. She was lost in thought. Alone in the snow.

"I'm sorry," Bran cries out without thinking. She looks up and instead of fear or confusion like he had seen on Jon, Arya looks skeptical. Then she smiles and her eyes water up.

"I love you bro" She announces reaching out to him. He reaches out for her hand. Before their fingers could touch Arya was gone. Her words cut off. Bran wonders why he had felt so much guilt. Why he had apologized? The answers do not offer themselves up. By the end of that day he had changed. He was no longer Brandon Stark. No, he was the three-eyed raven.

When he next saw his sister he already knew everything that had come to pass in her life. He also knew the potential roads there were left for it. In the ones where he had seen her happy she was surrounded by people she knew or would know. Many already in Winterfell and seven on the way.

Now the two of them sit in silence by the fire in the library. A place Bran never liked much before he had changed. Arya was never one much for it either. The two always had preferred being outside. Running around and doing something. Yet at peace, they were in the silence of the books. Arya breaking a twig in her hands just to move.

"I thought you were dead," Arya admits as she through a broken twig onto the fire. It wasn't needed but she had to get it out of her hands. Otherwise, she would have just kept breaking it apart.

"Everyone did," save for Meera but he doesn't mention the Reeds anymore. He doesn't try to think about them either. Even as Meera rides home he sees every step of hers. His mind offering up as many interruptions as it can. She still remains at the forefront.

Arya shakes her head. A small smile still on her face. She was happy he was alive. Truly happy, he wishes he could feel the same for her. Was she happier now that she was trained in ways of combat unknown to him? How would she have been if anything had gone differently? Hypotheticals like that are the only things Bran doesn't know now.

"The Night King is coming. A legend walking straight out of Old Nan's stories," She laughs. "It almost doesn't feel real."

"It is," he promises while squeezing his hands around the arms of his chair.

Arya offers him a curious look. The one she often gives before beginning one of her games. Bran saw her use it on so many before taking their faces for a god she had not been born too. Or perhaps death was the one god they all belonged to from birth. It was the only promise. The only guarantee.

"You will be happy Arya." He isn't sure why but he knows he must say these words now. There would be no time for them later.

"What?"

"In the future. You'll be happy." He has seen it. Her face was so bright as she lifts up Gendry. As she comes home to him at work in the forge or taking up most of their bed. She would be happy and Gendry was a good man. Her future was the only one Bran would promise because it was the only one he knows he will be the cause of its destruction.

"I'm happy right now. We're together again. Almost all of us. Finally." Arya takes his right hand in her left. She squeezes it tightly and for once Bran felt warm. For once he was a little something else then just numb.

He assumes she is telling the truth. He wants her to be happy right now. He wants her to reach out for him in the woods on that fateful day. You say she loves him still even after she'll lose it all. One last piece fo the boy he had been wanted that from her. He suspects it was the only thing keeping the old bran alive.

When Gendry does arrive Bran tries to be nice. As nice as his new demeanor will allow. He offers the boy a seat at their family's table but Gendry looks at him with a terrified look and runs away. He tells him of his father's past. Yet Gendry only shrugged and returned to work. Nothing Bran tried worked to bring the two closer. So he steps back and leaves it alone. Trusting in Arya and his siblings to aid the hopeless blacksmith instead. Aid and allies that he would need when Arya leaves until he returns.

As Arya slips into the forge leaving behind he smiles and heads inside to speak with Tyrion.