Chapter 6: Up, Down and All Around

When father dragged Lord Stark off on his last hunt in the North, my mind was plagued with indecision.

I was sat in my chambers, pondering the fate of Bran, the poor boy who'd managed to work his way into my good graces. In my mind, it remained obvious that the pragmatic thing would be to let him fall. Even if my presence had changed some things down in the capital, it was not apparent that anything of any significance, politically speaking, had changed, and events seemed to be playing out in a very similar fashion. In that case, the smart move would be to stick to the devil I knew, rather than to butterfly it all away and risk death at the cruel hands of fate. As terrible as things would get, retaining any such knowledge of events enabled me to better prepare for the wights rising beyond the Wall, and to be able to more effectively make peace, or war, with Dany and her dragons. Saving Bran risked the fate of the rest of the world, and it was clear to me what was the more important of the two.

On the other hand, if I knowingly let Bran, a child, suffer in such a manner, then I was in truth no better than those who I had once reviled. Putting adults, even good ones like Ned Stark, in danger, was not a matter with which I had many qualms given my situation, but an innocent child? Neither Tywin, nor Baelish, had any trouble endangering children for their ends, and they were cast as some of the villains of the story for a reason. What's more, if Bran wasn't injured, then there remained the possibility that I could prevent the War of the Five Kings in it's entirety. If he wasn't injured, then Joffrey wouldn't send an assassin for him, Catelyn wouldn't feel the need to accost Tyrion at the Inn at the crossroads, meaning Tywin wouldn't feel the need to send Clegane into the Riverlands, and so the chances of Ned discovering the truth were lowered. Hundreds of thousands of lives could be saved. However, all of that was mere speculation, and there was just as large a chance that the war would happen anyway, and things might turn out even worse than in canon, on account of Bran winding up in Joffrey's custody.

It was a difficult decision to make, and I didn't have very long to make it. As far as I could remember, I had till Bran said his goodbyes to Hodor, Mikken, Old Nan and all those left behind in the keep before he started to climb the tower, at which point I would be forced to make a decision. I agonised over it for a few more minutes, before finally settling the matter in my mind.

Fuck canon.

I just, I couldn't let a child suffer. Especially one that I could save with so little effort. All it would take is to ask him to play, and to keep him distracted till mother and uncle Jaime were done with their business in the tower. A mere hour's worth of effort was all it would take to change everything.

Resolute, I rose from my chair and exited my chambers, headed for the broken tower. It was some walk, Winterfell proving to be just as labyrinthian as the Red Keep, and yet I found my way regardless. I was prepared to stop Bran on his way to begin climbing, and yet, when I looked up, I saw the form of a young boy scaling the wall. By the looks of things, I had taken too long thinking, and now he was at the top, where he could catch the view of my mother and uncle in the throes of their incestuous passion. Hell, he had likely already heard them. In a panic, I tried the first thing that came to my head, cupping my hands around my mouth and shouting with all the might my lungs could muster, "BRAN!"

Bran started, jumping in place and losing his footing in the process, and fell. He hadn't been pushed, far as I could tell, he had slipped.

It was almost like it was happening in slow motion.

I ran forwards, desperate to get under him and perhaps break his fall. Alas, I was too far away, and he came crashing down to earth with a sickening crunch before I could reach him, his form broken and bloodied. He appeared to still be conscious, a few small whimpers escaping his lips as I cradled his head and fought off tears. Bran was here, bloodied, because of me. Oh sure, he would likely have wound up broken because of Jaime anyway, but he wasn't. It was me, I had shouted, I had startled him, and ultimately, that made me responsible.

Perhaps, had I been a little faster, I would have been able to break his fall, and I may have saved him from the worst of his injuries. Even better, had I been a little more decisive, then he would never have been in the position to get injured in the first place. However, for the moment, I set aside all my regrets, choked back tears, and set to work. From the looks of things, Bran's injuries were not as severe as they might have been, with no serious damage visible to his upper body or spine, his legs taking the majority of the impact. Of course, I couldn't be sure, but from the looks of things, his injuries were less severe than they would have otherwise been.

He had suffered numerous smaller wounds across his body from the impact, perhaps the most noticeable being a sizeable headwound, blood flowing freely from the gash. I checked his pulse, and then applied gentle pressure to the wound in his head, being careful not to apply too much, should it turn out that Bran also suffered from a fractured skull. Having given the once-over to ensure he would live long enough, I then began to call as loudly as my lungs would allow me, begging for someone to go fetch the maester. My words were swiftly drowned out by the howling of Bran's direwolf, but the noise proved just as effective at attracting attention.

Soon enough, Maester Luwin arrived, and instructed two men watching to fetch a stretcher so that Bran could be carted off to the maester's chambers for the maester to get to work trying to save him. Knowing that his fate would now be out of my hands, I went off, first making my way to fetch the Lady Catelyn at the maester's behest, informing her through choked sobs of Bran's fate and also taking the opportunity to express a tearful apology at the fate of her son, admitting my guilt in making him fall. Given that it was her son's life on the line, the Lady Catelyn appeared justifiably furious with me, but she neglected to scold me, simply rushing off to see her son. Taking a moment to calm myself, I then made my way to the Winterfell sept, kneeling down before the gods, both of this world, old and new, and of my own, to pray for the life of the boy I had failed.

I don't know how long I spent there, but after a while, the Lady Catelyn joined me, cognisant of the fact that there was nothing more that she could do for her son whilst the maester worked but pray. We spent the entire time in a tense silence, the hours flying by till the Lady left her vigil, making either for rest or to spend some more time with her son, who was doubtless deep within his dreams by now. Though the Lady rushed off to see her son, I knew I would likely not be welcome, and so I made my way to my chambers.

When I arrived, I pulled out a spare roll of parchment and a quill that I had seen fit to bring. I unfurled it, and set to work, doing my best to imitate the design that Tyrion had once created and gifted to Bran to enable him to ride once more. I laboured throughout the night, eventually falling asleep, a half-finished design before me. As the days passed, I spent my days at the sept, visiting Bran in the mornings, the Lady Catelyn's stony gaze watching me the entire time, her expression softening just a little more for each successive morning that I came.

When the fourth day came around, and Bran stayed deep within his slumber, I allowed myself a moment of relief from my self-inflicted mental torment. At this stage, it was becoming clearer and clearer that Bran would live, and with each additional day, the odds only got better and better. When I came to break my fast in the hall, I inquired to Tyrion whether or not my suspicions were true, and just like canon, he deigned fit to inform me that they were. According to the maester, Bran was likely to live.

Just like before, Tyrion saw the furtive glances that my mother and Jaime exchanged, and his suspicions grew. I tuned their conversations out till the subject of our departure came up, "... No, I just want to stand on top of the Wall and piss off the edge of the world."

"The children don't need to hear this filth. Tommen, Myrcella, come."

As she stood and made to leave, Myrcella rose and made to follow, but I stayed rooted to my seat, refusing to leave. Tyrion glanced at me with a curious eye, at which point I felt it appropriate to speak, "Can I come?"

My mother seemed angered at the thought, "Tommen!"

Tyrion seemed confused, "Why?"

For the wights, obviously. Going up to the Wall with Jon would grant me the opportunity to sow the seeds of cooperation between me and him, such that he may feel comfortable working with me when the threat of the wights became obvious. I felt positively wretched at planning ahead and moving past Bran's injuries in such a way, and yet I knew better to get bogged down in it. More importantly, it pulled me away from the action at King's Landing long enough to see to it that the responsibility of Ned's death would not fall upon my shoulders. Of course, I could stay down south and attempt to save the father in the manner in which I had been unable to save the son, and yet I knew my chances were slim to none. Lord Stark was unlikely to heed any warnings I gave, especially not now that I had publicly admitted fault for his son's injuries.

Furthermore, even if he did listen, and managed to discover the truth, as he was likely to try to do, he would the have cause to remove me from the succession and maybe even to see me killed, though I doubted he would try the latter. Still, given all that was at stake, it was an eventuality that I simply couldn't allow to come to pass, and so logically, Ned Stark had to die.

The world was moving forwards, and if I was going to survive, so must I.

Of course, I couldn't voice those thoughts, so I voiced another one that would prove far more palatable for the ears of all at the table, "I would feel guilty leaving Bran behind in such a state. If I were to depart south now, I would never be given the chance to make amends."

Tyrion still looked sceptical, "And going to the Wall will help you do that, how, exactly?"

"It will keep me in the North for a longer time, granting me a greater opportunity to make amends. I would stay here, but I don't think the Lady Catelyn appreciates my presence in her home anymore, and I doubt that mother would allow me to be left all on my lonesome in the keep anyhow, would you, mother?"

She seemed almost distraught at the thought, "Absolutely not!"

I turned back to Tyrion, "See? If, on the other hand, I were to go with you, I would stay in the company of family, and therefore be protected to an adequate degree. You would have to pass though Winterfell to return to the South anyway, granting me another opportunity to make amends. Mayhap Bran would have woken by then, and his mother would be more receptive to my apologies."

Before Tyrion could respond, mother cut in, "You know, sweetling, that you are not responsible for Bran's fate? It is not your fault that the boy decided to climb so high."

I raised my voice in a guilty frustration, "But it is, mother! Had I not distracted him, he would have climbed through the tower and to safety, his condition is my fault!"

Mother made to respond, but Jaime spoke before she could, a strange look on his face, not quite cool and detached, and yet not quite imploring, "Let him go, dear sister. The boy clearly feels awful about what happened, being at fault or not, and he'll be safe with Tyrion the whole way, won't he, Tyrion?"

Tyrion nodded, "Absolutely. I would sooner die than see any harm come to so much as a hair on Tommen's head."

Mother still looked unsure, but eventually relented in the face of the three-pronged attack coming from her son and both her brothers, "Fine. If he wants to go, then go he shall. If he is harmed, Tyrion, then know that I will spare you no mercy."

With the conversation officially over, mother came and grabbed my hand, and I followed her out of the chamber. Behind me, I could hear the discussion between Tyrion and Jaime resume, Jaime remarking on the mercy of killing the boy, and Tyrion disagreeing. I only caught the start, soon being led out of earshot by my mother. The day after, I packed those of my things that I thought to be useful, such as my dagger, the unfinished plans for the brace and my small chest of gold, and prepared to depart with Jon and Benjen. Jon had gone off to utter his last goodbyes with his injured brother, and so I took the opportunity presented and approached Arya, "I hope this won't be our last farewell."

She eyed me suspiciously, though there was an undertone of deadpan humour in her voice, "You're not going to make me fall too, are you?"

In spite of my relative toughness, even if it was a jape, the accusation still stung, "Come now, Arya, you know I feel terribly guilty about that. If I could, I would make it so that it never happened, even better, that your brother would never have climbed that damned tower in the first place."

Arya looked a tad sheepish at the fact that her jape hadn't been received the way she had intended, "I know, but I haven't really been able to see you the past few days, and mother said it was partly your fault that Bran fell. I didn't know what to think."

"I know."

There came an uncomfortable silence between us, the events of the past few days draining away our will to make merry, "So, you're off to the Wall with Jon?"

I allowed myself a weak smile, "Only for a short visit. I'll be coming back in a little while. If nothing goes wrong, I should meet you back in King's Landing before the year ends."

She smiled too, "So, farewell for now?"

I wanted the comfortable atmosphere to continue, but I had work to do, "Yes, farewell for now. But listen, before we part ways, Arya, can I offer you a piece of advice?"

Arya looked confused, "Advice?"

"Well, it's more of a warning, in truth, about Joffrey."

"What about Joffrey?"

"I came to tell you that Joffrey's a monster." Arya made to protest, "Please, let me finish. My entire life, Joffrey has been my stalwart tormentor. He killed and skinned my pets for fun. They weren't sickly, or old, or diseased, and yet he killed them anyway. The Joffrey that you have come to know is very different from the one I have known for my entire life. He is more cruel than kind, more craven than brave. Even worse, his status as Crown Prince enables him to get away with it all, and he receives no punishment for his crimes. Mother does not see fit to punish her golden child for his actions, and I do not believe my father has ever been sober enough to care. Given the opportunity, he will try to torment you too, and he will get away with it."

Arya looked a little scared now, "What do you want me to do?"

"Just... be careful. Try your very best to stay out of his attention, and keep your direwolf, Nymeria, under a tight leash, because he will leap at any opportunity to see its insides spilled out onto the ground. He will hurl insults at you, ignore them, no matter how much they may sting your pride, because reacting to them will only make things worse. Most importantly of all, watch out for your sister. She's betrothed to him, the poor girl. For now she thinks that Joffrey is the most gallant and handsome prince in all the realms. The day will come when she learns the truth, and the sooner that is, the better for her."

Arya nodded, "Okay. I'm not sure I believe you, but I'll be careful."

Happy that she listened, I snatched her up in a tight hug, one which she reciprocated as best she could, her frame smaller than mine in spite of being a year older, and offered my final farewell before going off to join the rest of the group. Jon returned from his final visit with Bran, his mood lightening when he spoke to Robb. He then went off to make his final farewell to Arya, and likely also to gift her Needle, before returning. Soon after, we set off, making for the Wall.

As Winterfell faded from view, I wondered what would change. Warning Arya was an impulsive decision to take, and yet it was also one that I refused to regret. As it was, I did not expect that she could change much, though I held out hope that she could find some way to make that whole mess just a little less awful. I had been tempted to warn Ned or Sansa directly, though I ultimately decided against it. Ned needed to die to ensure my survival, plain and simple, and though it was a travesty that such was the case, I wasn't about to cut myself off at the knees for his sake. And Sansa, well, I doubt she would have believed me, even if she had bothered to listen.

Still, that was a problem for the future, and a more immediate one faced me upon my return from the Wall. In retrospect, the decision to tell Catelyn the full truth regarding my involvement in Bran's fall had been an extremely rash one. Racked with guilt and scared that he wouldn't survive, I had let more slip than I should have. The result was that she now harboured some distaste towards me, even though no reasonable person could lay the blame upon my shoulders, her motherly instincts compelled her to do exactly that. Hopefully, the offer of a completed saddle-brace design would be enough to win her favour back, such that should I wind up in her custody at the Eyrie, I would be spared the sky-cells.

In truth, I was not sure just what I could know, anymore. As we rode for the Wall, only one certainty came to mind.

No matter what had changed, there was no stopping it now.

And so, Tommen's first failure! Up next, the Wall!
I know a lot of you wanted me to save Bran, but I decided against it, not only because of it nicely sets up the rest of the story, but because of the opportunities it presents for Tommen to engage in political chicanery later on down the road. Same for going to the Wall. Not only does it allow him to better prepare for the White Walkers, but also allows enough of the plot down south to progress without bloodying Tommen's hands prematurely, as well as keeping that part of early canon mostly intact, thereby enabling Tommen to continue to exploit his book knowledge for just a little while longer.
Feel free to comment and let me know what you think.
Hope you guys enjoy!

P.S. May be subject to rewrite in the future