During supper, Lord Commander Edd told Bran that Jon was sending men to get him. He hadn't expected this. Before that, Edd offered men from the Night's Watch to escort him to Winterfell. But as he observed, there were barely fifty men manning the castle. Sending men away will weaken the Wall's manpower. And he couldn't have that to happen.

That night, they were each given a guest quarters. But Bran insisted that they should be occupying one room, which made Edd raise his eyebrows in suspicion.

"He can't walk." Meera reminded Edd. "You expect him to move around on his own even with the direwolf's help?" She asked.

Edd seemed to buy it, and ordered one bed to be transferred to the quarters they'd be sleeping in. And after lighting the fireplace, Edd left them to themselves.

Bran understood Edd, Meera wasn't supposed to be sharing Bran's room. The brothers of Night's Watch were brave men, he had to admit. But before they came to Castle Black, most of them had been thieves, murderers, or rapers. Bran couldn't do much to help Meera if somebody would try to attack her or anything. But even though he knew she was capable of taking care of herself, he still decided that it's best to keep her close to him. Just to be sure she's safe.

Bran lay on one of the beds. The direwolf Winter had found himself a spot on a rug in front of the fireplace. Meera placed her bow at the foot of her bed before lying down on the bed across from his. And soon enough, they were dozing off.

He hadn't slept in a soft featherbed and in the warmth of fire in years. But of course, it's also the time that his green dreams decided to return.

In his dreams, Bran saw his family. The same way his visions took place, each scene seemed like a millisecond fast. He saw the day Robb went South with the North bannermen; how his father was executed in the steps of the Great Sept of Baelor, with his sisters Sansa and Arya nearby; how Robb was stabbed through the heart, and their mother's throat slit open; how little Rickon ran to towards Jon, then an arrow pierced through his chest; how North bannermen lay down their swords and knelt before Jon and Sansa in Winterfell's great hall; and lastly, his sister Arya, walking away smiling from burning towers with hundreds of wolves rallying behind her.

Bran woke with a start. He pushed himself up on his elbows and sat up. He looked around the room. It was quiet except for the fire crackling softly under the fireplace. Meera was still sleeping soundly. Winter's eyes opened in alarm.

The one thing that bothered him in his visions was the part about Rickon. His little brother was running frantically towards Jon, who was on horseback also trying to ride towards him. They were so close until an arrow pierced through Rickon's chest and he fell to the ground coughing out blood. And he never moved again.

Suddenly, there were tears in Bran's eyes. He shouldn't have left Rickon out of his sight.

Winter must have sensed his distress and went to nuzzle Bran's face.

"I'm fine, Winter." Bran said, patting the direwolf's head.

Meera stirred and he quickly wiped his tears from his cheeks.

"Bran?" Meera called, then she got out bed and rushed to him. "What's wrong?" She asked.

Winter went back to lounging on the rug in front of the fireplace.

Bran sniffled. "Nothing." He lied. "Just go back to sleep." His voice shaky.

Meera raised an eyebrow. "Winter wouldn't be up if it was nothing." She insisted as she sat beside him. "Come on, what is it?"

A tear trickled down his cheek. I shouldn't be crying, Bran told himself. I'm a grown man not some whiny little babe. But somehow he found himself telling Meera what he saw.

"Rickon was only a boy." He sobbed. "If I had known, I shouldn't have sent him there knowing how he'd end up."

Meera placed a hand on his shoulder. "I'm sorry." She said. "But that's not your fault."

"It is." Bran insisted. "I should have known. I'm a greenseer, how could I have not seen it?"

Meera wrapped an arm around him. "You only did what you thought was best for Rickon. I'm sure he knows that." She assured.

Bran cried on her shoulder. "I led my little brother to his death." He said. "I was supposed to be protecting him."

Meera patted his back. "Trust me," She said, pulling him closer. "I know that feeling."

Bran had almost forgotten. Meera had lost her little brother, Jojen on the north side of the Wall. To the Wights who were after them.

He blinked, jerking his head back slightly. Of course, that had been hurting Meera all this time—it had been an ache in his chest as well. Bran had lost people he'd loved before, his father, mother, and eldest brother. But his friends, Hodor and Jojen Reed had died forhim. Jojen had walked through Northern forests to find Bran, all while knowing he would die if he did. And Hodor did it without protesting. Three of them had gone with him beyond the Wall, now Meera was all he had.

Bran pulled away and wiped his tears. "You're coming with me when I leave, right?" He asked, breaking the silence that surrounded them.

Meera looked over to him, a piece of her brown curls falling into her eyes. "Of course," She said. "I can't stay here. I'm your protector. Wherever you go, I go, remember?"

Bran smiled. "I just I was just… I meant more, at you coming to Winterfell with me or are you going home…back to Greywater Watch?" He asked.

Meera looked down and was quiet for a long time. "I suppose I must go back." She finally said. "I haven't seen my father in a long time," She frowned. "But I'm not sure that's what I want to do. I don't know if it's going to be home anymore without Jojen."

"I feel the same way about Winterfell. It'll be hard to go back, seeing it after everything. I don't even know what it looks like anymore, since they burned it down. And being there without my mother, father, Robb or Rickon…" He sighed. "But I couldn't imagine not going back. Winterfell is the only home I've ever known."

"That's why they're sending men to get you." Meera said. Her hand snaked through the furs and took Bran's hand in her own. "You're a Stark of Winterfell," She reminded him. "And winter is already here. And you know what that means."

The words chilled Bran and he could feel where the warmth spread from Meera's hand. "Then you're going back to Greywater Watch, you're the heir now." He said.

Meera sighed. "Well, it seems the most logical plan, to go back and…rule." She said the word in disgust, like she hated the idea of it. "But that's not what I want. That was supposed to be Jojen's seat, not mine." She continued. "Nevertheless, you need to rest, Bran. Go back to sleep."

"No, you need to rest." Bran countered. "You keep telling me to rest, but it's you who need rest, Meera."

"Bran—" She started to say.

"I'm commanding you to rest." Bran ordered. "Go back to sleep."

Meera chuckled. "No one orders me around."

"I'm your Prince." Bran reminded her. "And I'm telling you to rest, seriously."

She smiled. "I will if you will." She said.

After a silent staring contest, they both lie back in their beds. Bran assumed Meera went back to sleep. But he didn't. He was afraid of having green dreams again. Dreams that concerned his family. Like the fact that little Rickon is gone and he was once again, the youngest in the family. And that he only had two siblings left, since Jon isn't really his brother.

. . .

The following morning, before midday, Meera had asked Lord Commander Edd if she could practice in the archery range, which he had allowed.

The winds grew colder and colder everyday, as Edd had said. So Bran donned his cloak, which had gotten smaller since he last wore it, back before they went beyond the Wall. Meera wore a mud-green cloak of the crannogmen, which he assumed was Jojen's since it reached her ankles.

He sat on one of the benches, with his back leaning on a table. Winter was quietly sitting by his feet, munching on a bone. Bran watched as Meera fired arrows and hit the bull's-eye everytime.

"She's good." Edd said, as he sat beside him.

Bran frowned at him. Edd's been with Jon north of the Wall and had probably fought off Wights yet he seemed to be surprised. "You've never seen a girl shoot an arrow that accurately before, Lord Commander?" He asked.

"Oh, I have, Prince Bran," Edd replied. "Only they were Wildling spearwives not highborn girls south of the Wall."

"Spearwives?" Meera asked.

Before Edd can explain, one of the sentries yelled. "Open the gates!"

Edd stood as the gates swung open. Meera plucked the arrows from the practicing targets and placed them back into her quiver, then she went and stood by Bran. Winter had forgotten his bone and stood growling.

"Take it easy, boy." Bran told the direwolf.

Men on horseback went into the courtyard carrying Stark banners.

Edd turned to Bran. "I believe your escort is here, Prince Bran." He said.

The Stark banners were different. The colors were reversed. So instead of a grey direwolf on a white field, it was a white wolf on a grey field. That was probably to signify Jon's status as a bastard, even if he was legitimized.

Following the men who carried the Stark heraldry, were six other men. Three men in surcoat armors and cloaks. One of the men, with the brown-grey hair and beard, had his cloak was clasped with a silver brooch in the shape of an armored fist, which made Bran to think that they were men of the Glovers of Deepwood Motte, and the lord of Deepwood Motte himself. The other three men were in animal fur coats, which he could tell were Wildlings that Jon had allowed passed the Wall. All six of them had swords at their side.

Behind them was an empty horse cart, which he was probably meant to carry him back to Winterfell.

The bearded Wildling with red hair dismounted his horse and walked towards Edd.

"Lord Commander!" He howled as he shook Edd's hand and gave his back a pat. "Good to see you, again."

"Tormund," Edd said, then turned to the brown-grey haired man.

The man, Tormund, gestured to the brown-grey haired man in a cloak. "This is Lord Robbet Glover of Deepwood Motte."

Bran remembered the Glovers. Well, actually he remembered his older brother, Galbart Glover. He led the vanguard of the Northmen as Robb had ordered, which, of course, had gotten into a dispute with Greatjon Umber.

"Milord," Edd bowed. "Welcome to Castle Black."

"Lord Commander," The brown-grey haired man addressed as he handed him a rolled a piece of parchment. "We were sent by King Jon to fetch his brother, Prince Brandon." He said. "Where is the prince?" He asked.

Edd waved his hand at Bran's direction and they all turned to him.

Tormund trudged over to him. He did so in a fast pace, that Meera had to push him backwards as she grasped her bow tightly in defensive stance. Suddenly, Winter stood in his way and growled which it made him halt.

"Winter," Bran called. "Heel."

The direwolf then barred its fangs and stopped growling. Winter then sat back down by Bran's feet and munched on the bone he had left earlier.

"Sorry, about that." Bran apologized as he stroke Winter's hide. "He's just really protective, that's all."

The newcomers turned to Bran, then at Meera, then at the direwolf Winter.

Tormund continued to walk towards him and bent down until his face was only about six inches from Bran's, making him lean on the edge of the table.

He knitted his brows at him. "You're Prince Brandon?" Tormund asked.

"Uh, yes." Bran said.

Tormund nodded and grinned. "Well, the direwolf already proved that, my prince."

Robett Glover approached him. "Prince Brandon," He addressed as he bowed. Then turned to Meera. "And you must be Lady Reed." Then he frowned. "Are you…Howland Reed's daughter?" He asked.

"I am, my lord." Meera confirmed.

Lord Glover nodded. "So Lord Reed sent his daughter to aid the prince—" He speculated.

"Howland Reed sent his son and daughter to aid me, a cripple." Bran corrected. He wanted to explain why they went beyond the Wall, but he stopped himself. Not here, Bran thought. Not with them.

Robett Glover looked around, probably looking for Howland Reed's son.

"If you're looking for my brother," Meera said. "He didn't make it."

"He died protecting me." Bran brought up.

Lord Glover looked down. "I'm sorry."

"Must say," Tormund said, frowning at Meera. "I didn't expect you to look like this, milady."

Meera looked offended. "Just because I'm a girl doesn't mean I don't know how to use a weapon." She said.

Tormund shrugged. "Suppose."

Edd cleared his throat. "Milords, milady," He said. "Should we have a midday meal before you leave for Winterfell?

"Now, you're talking!" Tormund said. "I haven't eaten a proper meal since Winterfell."

Edd called some brothers from the Night's Watch. "Boys, carry the prince to the common hall." He ordered.