CHAPTER SEVEN

BRAN

"Every flight begins with a fall."

~ A Game of Thrones, Chapter Seventeen, Bran

His sister had been gone for only a day, but the entire keep was thrumming with a nervous tension Bran had never felt before. The steady palpitation seemed to wiggle through the cracks between the bricks under his fingers and toes. Bran had always loved climbing, and was intrigued by his new surroundings; however the stone was foreign to him. Winterfell had been his home. Every nook and cranny had been his. Castle Darry, on the other hand, felt like it was pushing back, like it was rebelling against his touch.

After an hour without luck, he sat on the thatch roof of the stable with a heel of bread in his hand and his direwolf's eyes tracing the pattern his left foot made as it swung through empty air.

Bran was supposed to leave him locked up in the kennels with his brothers and sister, but Arya was running around the countryside with her Nymeria so why couldn't he keep his wolf by his side?

"Here," Bran tossed down the last of his bread to the pup. He could hear the crust crackle under his direwolf's powerful jaws.

If only I were I knight. Then I could ride out with Father and Robb and Jon and the others and find Arya myself. I would save both of them. Then I could bring her back here and tell everybody that she is not to be harmed. It was all that stupid Joff boy's fault anyways.

Bran and Arya had been playing at knights out past the men's camps and Sansa and Joffrey stumbled upon them. After a morning of bruises in the yard from practicing with Jon and Robb, the boy Joff had been angry. He accused them both of being cravens, but Arya had disarmed him and let Nymeria bite him besides. Joff had sworn vengeance through his tears, but Bran was not afraid.

Joffrey is the true craven.

Bran smiled at the memory of Joffrey wailing to his mother.

Even Rickon has better sense. And he's a baby.

The thought of Rickon made Bran even more homesick for Winterfell. He shimmied his way down a crossbeam to the ground and gave his wolf a scratch behind the ear. The grey wolf yelped and nibbled at his fingers, telling Bran he wanted to play. The sound set the other direwolves howling in the kennels across the deserted yard. His pup looked at the kennels and whimpered.

"It's not fair," Bran told him. "Rickon had to stay at home while the rest of us are going to King's Landing, I have to stay here while everyone else looks for Arya, and you're supposed to be locked away in the kennels."

Bright yellow eyes looked at him pleadingly.

"All right, I have an idea. Stay here. Stay," Bran stepped inside the stable. He spotted a stableboy mucking out a stall further down the row. He sang out "The Bear and The Maiden Fair" lustily as he worked, unaware of Bran's presence. Bran's pony was a few stalls past the singing stableboy.

I'll never sneak past him, especially while leading a horse back this way.

In front of him, Theon's horse whickered softly.

Bran shushed the animal and rubbed his nose. He was surprised to find Smiler already saddled and bridled. No doubt Theon had ordered his horse readied and then decided against joining the search that morning and had forgotten to tell someone.

Perfect.

The stableboy didn't even look up as Bran quietly led Smiler out of his stall and straight out the door.

In the yard, Bran took one look at the long stirrups and wished he could go back and find his own saddle. Instead, he knotted them a few times on each side so as to shorten them for boy's legs.

The kennelmaster was the same as Bran had found him that morning: snoring softly with an empty mug of ale cradled in his arms like a babe. Bran did not even bother to shush the wolves as Lady, Grey Wind, and Ghost practically fell over one another as they rushed out into the yard.

Luckily, Smiler had grown used to the direwolves on their journey and didn't bolt as they sniffed at his hooves. Bran had to lead the horse to an upright barrel so he could clamber into the saddle, but he felt invincible from such a high seat.

This is almost as good as climbing.

His new vantage point gave him the courage to lie to the guards with ease, "My brothers and sister sent a raven from their search. They need their wolves to track properly."

"Surely, Prince Bran will need an escort…"

"No!" They'll ruin everything! "My father and his knights will watch over me. They can't be far."

The guard bowed with the faintest hint of a smile on his face, "Just a few men, Your Grace. I am sure the King could use more help recovering Princess Arya."

Bran couldn't refuse without admitting that he had planned to venture out alone to find Arya. Two pikemen with the badge of Darry on their breasts flanked him on either side as they passed through the inner and outer gates of Castle Darry.

Sullen and humiliated, Bran slumped in the saddle as they passed the camps, certain that his father would be angry when he saw Bran had stolen Theon's horse and let the direwolves loose.

But they're just stupid guards. They're not even mounted!

Suddenly, Bran knew what he had to do.

"Where did His Grace say to meet him?" one of the pikemen asked, looking down at Ghost with fear in his eyes.

"Nowhere you can catch me!" Bran dug his heels into Smiler's flanks as best he could and the horse lurched forward. The direwolves howled in delight. The guards yelled in frustration. And, for a moment, Bran was free.

The four direwolves raced ahead of Bran as he navigated his way through the foliage and into a clearing.

"PRINCE BRAN!" the guards yells faded behind him as he urged Smiler on.

A felled tree blocked his path. Smiler leapt with ease, but Bran slid slightly to the right in the large saddle, pushing with all his might against the still-too-long-stirrup. Then he spotted another tree in his path.

Too soon. Too soon.

Bran guided Smiler into the jump only to realized that Lady was jumping at the same time.

Too close. Too close!

"No, no, NO!"

The right stirrup snapped from the saddle in midair. Bran slipped from Smiler's back as the horse lost its footing and crashed into Lady.

"PRINCE BRAN! PRINCE BRAN!"

Bran slipped out of consciousness with the sky above him and the howling of direwolves all around.