Near the main gate, the King's hunting party is almost ready to leave. Hullen the horse master checks the saddles; other retainers sharpen spears and ready the hounds. Jory, Theon, Ser Rodrik, Benjen and Tyrion outfit themselves. Tyrion does so very, very slowly, badly hung-over, he looks like day-old death as he turns to Benjen.
"If I get through this without squirting from one end or the other, it'll be a miracle," Tyrion belched.
A few yards deeper into the courtyard, Ned sits on a bench, strapping a leather-and-steel vambrace to his forearm. He seems preoccupied and careworn as King Robert steps up behind him and gives him a friendly shake of the shoulders.
"You as good with a spear as you used to be?" Robert smiled.
Ned smiles, hiding his worries from the happy king. "No. But I'm still better than you."
Robert began to laugh at that. As one of the king's squires kneels beside Robert and begins lacing padded half-greaves onto the king's legs, Robert squeezes Ned's shoulder.
"I know how much you love it up here," Robert laughed. "Coming south with me, serving as my Hand- I know it's not what you wanted. You're a loyal friend. You hear me? A loyal friend. The last one I've got."
"I hope I'll serve you well," Ned swore his fealty.
"You will, and I'll make sure you don't look so grim all the time," Robert promised.
Ned smiles and looks to the hunting party. "I hear the southern boars are twice as nasty as the ones up here."
"Oh, you won't have time for hunting," Robert said. "You'll be too busy wrangling the snakes that call themselves my court."
The king laughs, throws his heavy arm across Ned's shoulders, and leads him towards the horses.
At the other end of the courtyard, Bran watches the hunting party mount their horses. He wants very badly to go with them, but he's too young. About fifty yards to his right, he sees Jon Snow sullenly watching the hunting party as well. Jon has been left behind himself, for different reasons. Bran tries to wave to him, but Jon sulks off without seeing him. Bran sighs, his mood sinking further, but that was when he hears a small growling at his feet. He looks down to see his wolf pup- as yet unnamed- jerking his head back and forth, with Bran's pant leg clamped between his jaws. Finally, Bran smiles.
"Come on, you," Bran commanded his pet.
Eventually, Bran starts to runs off, and his direwolf bounds after him. With his wolf at his heels, Bran runs toward the First Keep, the oldest part of the castle. He reaches the squat round tower and looks up. The Keep has been deserted for years; its crown has begun to crumble, and moss grows between the stones. High above, it is festooned with gargoyles leaning blindly over empty space.
Bran turns to the pup. "Lie down. Now stay."
The wolf does as he is told. Bran scratches him behind the ears, then finds a handhold in the keep wall and begins to climb, moving from stone to stone quickly and instinctively. When Bran is about ten feet up, his wolf rises to his feet and begins to howl. Bran looks down and his direwolf falls silent. There's something eerily imploring about the way the animal looks up at him through slitted yellow eyes. He doesn't want Bran to keep climbing. Bran starts climbing again while his dire wolf starts howling again.
"Quiet! Sit! Stay!" Bran shouts down sternly.
The wolf continues to howl, until Bran is far, far above him. Then he drops back down onto his stomach and whines. Bran scrambles up the rough-cut stones of the ancient tower. He climbs with no fear and no hesitation. When he gets high enough he begins swinging from gargoyle to gargoyle. He knows where to find every handhold and foothold. He is near the top when a woman's voice from inside the tower startles him, nearly causing him to lose his grip.
"I don't like it," The woman's voice spat in utter disgust. "You should be the Hand."
"There's an honor I can do without," A man's voice said. "Far too much work involved."
Clinging to a gargoyle, Bran looks down, past his dangling feet. The voices come from a row of glassless windows below.
"Don't you see how dangerous this is?" The woman's voice warned. "Robert loves the man like a brother. We'll have to watch him..."
"I'd rather watch you," The man's voice said in a very lazy, but seductive tone. "Come back here."
Bran reaches for the next gargoyle over. It seems too far, he won't make it, but Bran has climbed this tower a hundred times. He swings over to the second gargoyle, straddles the stone monster's back, tightens his legs and turns himself upside down. Perched like a bat, Bran is able to look in through the window. From his vantage he cannot see the couple's faces. A fur cloak has been laid on the stone floor of the unlit chamber. A naked woman lies belly down on the fur. A naked man lies on his side beside her, mostly hidden by the shadows. Their voices echo strangely off the ancient stones.
"Starks have never cared about the south," The woman's voice said. "Never. He wants to move against us. Why else would he leave this place? He's like a king himself up here."
"Maybe he just wants to be warm for once in his life," The man's voice assumed.
The naked man grabs her by the hair and forces her to rise to all fours.
"Stop..." The woman's voice gasps with pain.
He does not stop. Keeping one hand on her hair, he pushes himself to his knees. He seizes her hip with his free hand and pulls her toward him, thrusting deep into her.
"Stop it... stop it... please..." The woman's voice continued to moan, as if she was in agony.
Her voice is low and she does not push him away; the harder he pulls her hair, the more she moans. Bran has no idea what to make of all this. He tries to get a better view and in doing so his sleeve brushes against the stone edge of the empty window. The woman turns and stares right at Bran and screams. Everything happens at once. Cersei pushes the man away, shouting and pointing. Bran tries to pull himself up, bending double as he reaches for the gargoyle's head. In his panic, his hands scrape uselessly against smooth stone, his legs slip, and suddenly he is falling. He shoots out a hand and grabs the window ledge. His momentum forces him to swing against the wall, hard, knocking the wind out of him. He dangles one-handed, panting. Faces appear in the window above him, and out of pure shock that Bran had saw was Cersei and her twin brother Jaime Lannister.
"He saw us," Cersei panicked.
As distraught as the queen looks, Jaime simply seems amused, watching the terrified boy with a small smile.
Bran's fingers start to slip. He grabs the ledge with his other hand. Fingernails dig into unyielding stone, but that was when Jaime reaches down.
"Take my hand," Jaime insisted.
Bran seizes Jaime's arm and holds on with all his strength. Jaime yanks him up to the ledge with no apparent effort and stands him on the window sill.
"What are you doing?" Cersei continued to panic even louder than before.
Jaime ignores her and asks Bran a question. "How old are you, boy?"
"Eight," Bran whimpered.
Now that he's safe, Bran trembles, realizing how close he came to dying when he releases Jaime's arm.
Jaime looks at his sister and replies in a loathing voice. "The things I do for love."
At that moment, Ser Jaime shoves Bran away, causing the poor helpless the boy to fall backward out the window, screaming as he lands on the ground.
Somewhere in the distance, his dire wolf Summer made a sudden howl, causing a number of Crows to circle around the broken tower. That was when Jeren Hill heard the sound of the wolf's cry and rushes to the spot of where it was. Out of horror, he sees that Bran was lying on the ground and rushes over.
"Bran, Bran!" Jeren cried, trying to wake him up. "BRAN!" He looks around. "HELP! SOMEBODY HELP!"
While Jeren had been calling out for help, he didn't notice that he was being watched by Uatu, who been observing Westeros. Along with his fellow Watchers that ovbserved different alternate and parallel realities within the Multiverse, Uatu abides by an oath that prohibits him from interfering with events occurring within the realities he observes.
"For generations on this world, many heroes were born to do one thing, protect families, protec their love ones from harm, annihilate traces of corrupt usurpers and conquerers, and punish those who have chosen to violate the laws that were given," Uatu explained as he was prepared for finish this story within this universe for now. "Even after Jaime threw Bran off the tower to keep his secret affair with his sister, Jeren rushed over to help the poor boy. Though unaware that his uncle was responsible, Jeren never left Bran's side, for in this reality, Westeros is about to bring forth a coming hero who will save this country from the coming darkness on the other side. There are plenty of other stories that have been told, but in this one, the story that you are about to see is only the beginning," Uatu explained "As for me, I observe all that transpires here, but I do not, cannot, will not interfere. For I am... the Watcher."