Brothers

The departure of Daenerys Targaryen and her forces left Jon brooding and Arya sullen.

"There's too many feelings coming through lately," Sansa grumbled as she pushed Bran's chair through the snow. It had become so deep that it was difficult for Bran to push it himself, but he still liked to sit beside weirwood trees, though he was trying to refrain from using his sight. "It's going to complicate things."

"It may not," Bran tried to sound mild. He had the same concerns, but he didn't want to voice them. The fact that everything moving forward involved his remaining siblings worried him deep down. Bran felt sick just thinking about seeing something terrible he could not change.

"You should know better than the rest of us, shouldn't you?" Sansa said sourly, settling Bran's chair and pulling his cloak and blankets close around him. Despite her mood, she still fidgeted like a mother hen over him until she was satisfied he would manage to stay warm enough. "I'll be back in an hour to bring you in for dinner."

Bran watched Sansa as she walked away. His sister held herself just as ramrod straight and proud as ever. She put on a good front.

He had asked Sansa to bring him out there so he could think. Jon's turn in temperament was what had Bran shying away from his powers. He didn't intend for it to hurt or upset Jon.

The part of Bran that was still him, still a young boy, had hoped Jon would be happy to learn he wasn't a bastard.

Instead, it had done the opposite. The whole thing left Bran sighing and rolling his eyes at the weirwood tree. Bran held his hand out and let the snowflakes pile up into a miniature mountain in his palm. He was so focused that he didn't realize Jon had walked up behind him until Jon spoke.

"Is your heart set on staying in this spot, Bran?" When Bran tipped his head back to look at Jon, he already had his hands on the handles of his chair. Jon smiled at Bran, but it didn't quite reach his eyes.

"I suppose I would end up a snowdrift if I sat still too long." Jon nodded and tipped his chair slightly, to free the wheels of the snow. Together, they made a path toward the forest.

"I'm sending Arya to Dragonstone," Jon said. "I've received news some of the dragon glass we'll need is ready."

"She'll enjoy that." Bran didn't need the sight to know Arya would spend a lot her time at the Targaryen stronghold with a certain blacksmith.

It had been nearly two weeks since Daenerys had sailed away from their shores. Gendry and his crew worked fast, then, to already have some weapons ready.

Jon waited until they were deep within the trees before he spoke again.

"I've been talking to Sam," he said. "Are you sure what you've seen is true?"

Bran kept his gaze straight ahead, but he nodded. "I can't see anything that isn't certain, Jon."

The sigh that came out of Jon sounded like it started down in his toes. "I don't look much like an Aegon."

When Bran lifted his hand to settle it over Jon's own, both were surprised. Bran turned his head to meet Jon's eyes.

"I think you know I cannot speak for Sansa…but for me and Arya, you will always be Jon. You will always be our brother."

Jon nodded, but he lifted his gaze up above Bran's head. He seemed to be staring at nothing, his dark eyes hard yet unfocused.

"I don't think we should tell either of our sisters…for now. We have more to focus on right now than who has a claim to the Iron Throne. I don't want it, anyway."

"Yes," Bran agreed. "The dead—"

His sentence was cut off by Arya's voice. "Jon! Jon!"

She skidded to a halt in front of them, sending a spray of snow onto Bran's lap.

"What is it, Arya?" Jon was already reaching for his sword, assuming the worst, no doubt, Bran was sure.

"Jaime Lannister is at Winterfell. He says he wants to talk to you…about Cersei. Sansa already allowed him entrance. I told her to wait for you, but she never listens to me."

This was news indeed, something not even Bran himself would have predicted. Jon turned Bran's chair over to Arya to run back to Winterfell through the snow. Arya was out of breath from her own trek, and she slowly pushed Bran's chair back through the path Jon broke earlier.

"I never thought I would see the day that Jaime Lannister would have to beg for counsel with our brother, with Jon, King in the North." The pride was evident in Arya's voice.

Here, at least, Bran knew he was correct without the sight: Arya would never stop supporting Jon.