Tyrion Lannister cracked his eyes open at the sound of roosters crowing and dogs howling. He blinked the sleep from his eyes and sat up, squinting at the masses of fur lying around him. He felt a tongue on his cheek and patted the dog lying next to him. It had been nearly a month since the royal court arrived in Winterfell and he still found himself in the strangest of places after blacking out from drinking too much.
"Better looking bitches than you're used to uncle." Tyrion grimaced at the voice of his "beloved" nephew, Joffrey. He quickly jumped from his place in the hay, brushed himself off, and turned to greet the prince and the Clegane following him. "My mother's been looking for you. We ride for King's Landing today."
Tyrion nodded his head while stumbling into the wall of the stable, head pains stabbing into his skull. He righted himself and pointed to the boy, "Before you go you will call on Lady and Lord Stark and express your sympathies."
The boy scoffed, "What good will my sympathies do them?" His uncle rolled his eyes and swung the gate open, stepping out to face the blonde man-child.
"None. But it is expected of you," He pointed at the prince. "Your absence has already been noted."
Joffrey shrugged, "The boy might be Tommen's little friend, but he means nothing to me," He turned and smirked at his guard. "And I can't stand the wailing of women." When he turned back to his uncle he was met with a harsh slap to the face. He let out a girlish cry, bending to hold his throbbing cheek.
"One word and I'll hit you again."
"I'm telling mother-" His sentence cut off by his uncle's hand landing on his face again with a sharp and proper 'Slap!'.
Tyrion gazed at the boy, "Go, tell her," He held up his hand. "But first you will go to Lord and Lady Stark, fall on your knees, and tell the how very sorry you are. That you are at their service and all of your prayers are with them," He raised his brow. "Do you understand?"
"You can't-" Once again Joffrey's words are silenced by yet another hit to his face.
"Do you understand?"
The prince nodded his head and quickly strode away, leaving the Imp alone with the Hound. Sandor shrugged his shoulders while glancing at the Lannister, "The prince will remember that, little Lord."
Tyrion smirked up at the scarred man, "I hope so," He gestured to the man. "If he does be a good dog and remind him." The dwarf then turned on his heel and walked into the Keep.
"Ah, time for breakfast."
The small man strode into the mostly empty Feast Hall and made his way to the single table left with people, his family. He called at a serving maid who walked by him, "Bread and two of those little fish, and a mug of dark beer to wash it down." He approached the high table and scooted into the bench next to his older brother. "And bacon burnt black."
Jaime smirked at his sibling, "Little brother."
"Beloved siblings," He smirked as Cersei awarded him with a slight quirk of her lips while Myrcella beamed at her favorite uncle from next to her mother. He returned the girl's smile while grabbing a bowl full of potatoes, scoping the mash onto his plate. He scanned the rest of the table and frowned when he noticed the youngest prince's absence.
Myrcella shifted in her seat, "Is Bran going to die?"
"Apparently not." Cersei straightened herself at Tyrion's words.
The mother kept a blank look on her face, "What do you mean?"
Her brother reached for a drink, "The Maester says the boy may live."
Unnoticed by the two younger blondes at the table, the twins shared a look with each other. Cersei's face became contemplative as she glanced back at the dwarf, "It's no mercy to let a child linger in such pain."
Tyrion shrugged his shoulders, "Only the Gods know for certain, all the rest of us can do is pray." He cut into his food, "The charms of the North seem entirely lost on you."
The Queen shrugged tightening her silk shawl around her arms, "Still can't believe you're going. It's ridiculous even for you."
"Where's your sense of wonder?" He exclaimed at his stubborn sister. "The greatest structure ever built. The intrepid men of the Night's Watch," He leaned towards the princess and waved his arms in a mystical way. "The wintry abode of the White Walkers!" The girl giggled at her uncle's jest while her mother remained stone faced.
"Tell me your not thinking of taking the Black." Jaime joked with his brother.
Tyrion gave his older brother a surprised look, "And go celibate? The whores would go begging from Dorne to Casterly Rock," He shook his head. "No I just want to stand at the edge of the Wall and piss off the edge of the world." Myrcella laughed at his words and her mother sneered.
"Children don't need to hear your filth."
Tyrion raised his brows and glanced around the room, "Seems you're a child short today sister," He leaned toward Cersei. "Tell me, where is dear Tommen?" The Queen glared at her brother, grabbed her daughter's hand, and left the room.
Jaime sighed as he watched the two females leave. Tyrion seemed to carry a face of false alarm, "Just a question. Nothing of harm."
"Tommen hasn't left the boy's side, blames himself for some reason." Jaime stared at the table for a moment before lifting his head again with his trademark smug smile, "Even if the boy lives, he would be misshapen and grotesque." He picked up his drink to take a swig, "Give me a good, clean death any day."
"Speaking for the grotesques, I'd have to disagree. Death is so final whereas life is full of possibilities." Tyrion shuffled his food around his plate. "If the boy does wake I will be very interested in what he has to say."
Jaime glared lightly at his brother, "My dear brother, sometimes I wonder whose side you are on."
"My dear brother you wound me," Tyrion glanced at Jaime. "You know how much I love my family." The brothers settled into a tense silence as they finished their meals.
On the other side of the Keep Lady Catelyn sat by her injured son's side, weaving a prayer wheel out of a handful of small sticks. She glanced to the opposite side of the bed to see the blonde prince still sitting by his friend's side, holding his hand while silent tears drifted down his cheeks. She pitied the little Baratheon, having to watch his friend fall and be unable to help him. But a small part of her deep down blamed the boy. If Bran had not been so eager to impress then maybe he would not have climbed the wretched tower in the first place. She pushed the damned thought from her mind. Even she knew her son would have climbed the tower eventually, he just couldn't help himself.
Instead she attempted to focus on the wheel she wove, but heeled footsteps broke her concentration and she watched as the Queen strode into the room. The auburn woman quickly stood for the royal woman, but she gestured for the Lady of Winterfell to remain seated. As the worn out woman returned to her seat the Lannister Lady made her way over to her own son, lightly rubbing his back. The boy did not respond to his mother's touch and instead kept his eyes fixed on his friend, praying for any movement at all.
Lady Catelyn watched the encounter, "I'm sorry Your Grace, I would've dressed."
The other woman shook her head, "This is your home and I am your guest." She looked over her son's shoulder to gaze at the comatose Stark child. "Handsome one isn't he?" She pet her son's blonde locks with a regretful look in her eye. "I lost my first boy, little black-haired beauty." She sighed. "He was a fighter too, tried to beat the fever that took him."
She caught Catelyn's sorrowful gaze and looked away, "Forgive me, it's the last thing you need to hear right now."
She shook her head at the Queen, "I never knew."
"It was years ago," She moved her eyes back to the bed ridden boy. "Robert was crazed. Beat his hands bloody on the wall." She scoffed, "All the things men do to show you they care."
"The boy looked just like him, such a little thing. A bird without feathers." She grasped Tommen's shoulders. "Then they came to take his body away, and Robert held me. I screamed and battled, but he held me." Cersei teared up thinking of the dark day. "Our little bundle, they took him away and I never saw him again. Never visited the Crypt, never."
Catelyn looked away from the quietly crying Queen, "I pray to the Mother every morning and night that she'll return your child to you."
She glanced back up at the regal woman, "I am grateful."
"Perhaps this time she'll listen."
The Queen then laid a kiss on her child's head and left the room. Tommen never once let his gaze leave his friend. Catelyn let her mind drift away in thought as she stared at the young boys. Her thoughts were interrupted by another set of footsteps entering through the open door. She glanced over to see Jon's new wife, Lady Myria, standing by the foot of the bed carrying a tray full of food.
"I brought something for you to eat, Catelyn." The older woman bowed her head slightly to the younger and listened as she placed the food down on a table in the room. She then shuffled over to Tommen, patting his blonde curls. "Tommen, would you like to go on a walk with me? I think some time outside might make you feel better."
Surprisingly the small boy nodded his head, squeezed his friend's hand, and stood from the seat he had occupied for many days. Myria extended her hand for the prince and he clasped onto it following her out of the room. He pair slowly meandered through the halls, passing people who offered their sympathies and such. The Dornish woman glanced down and frowned when she caught the look of ennui on the sweet fawn's face.
They entered the courtyard to see Jon speaking with the blacksmith, holding a small sword rather similar to Myria's own water dancing sword. She tugged on the prince's hand, but when he refused to move she simply scooped the small boy onto her hip and continued on her path. As she approached her husband Tommen laid his head into the crook of her neck and let his eyes flutter shut.
Jon smiled at the sight of his wife walking towards him with a child on her hip, but slightly frowned when he recognized the boy as prince Tommen. He gestured to the boy, "You allowed to hold him like that? Seems 'motherly'."
She smirked at the black haired Stark, "My whole purpose in King's Landing was a nanny and playmate of sorts for Myrcella and Tommen. It's not a shock to see me carrying one of them at all." He nodded his head and grasped the small sword his hands. "Is that for Arya?"
"How'd you know?"
She giggled, "the size. Much too small for you."
He blushed and fiddled with the handle of the blade, "Wanted my sister to have something to protect herself with down south." Myria shifted the boy in her arms while smiling at Jon.
"A wonderful gift," She claimed. "From a wonderful brother." He leaned over, pressed a slight kiss to her forehead, and went off to visit his little sister before she left. Myria continued to wander through the courtyard and inside of the Keep, when she passed through the hallway the glass garden was tucked away in. She slowly creaked the door open and slipped in with Tommen still balanced on her. She glided over to the small stone bench in the corner, laid the tied boy onto it, and placed herself onto the ground next to him.
She leaned over to pluck a handful of winter roses and slowly started to pick the thorns off of the stems. Myria was humming a song to herself when she heard Tommen's voice, "You sing that song when it rains, My." She tilted her head at the boys words. "Why are you singing it now?"
"You're sad and scared when it rains, and you are sad and scared now." The boy sat up while rubbing his eyes and nodding his head in agreement. She glanced at the boy and raised her eyebrows at the strange expression upon his face. "Something's bothering you."
"I heard a voice."
She began to twist the flower stems together, "A voice?"
Tommen breathed, "Right before Bran fell from the window, I caught him and I...I...I tried My. I swear I did, but it was so hard to hold on." She placed the flowers on the ground and wrapped her arms around the crying child. She stroked his back as he wailed into her chest.
"It's okay Tommen. I swear," She pulled him away from her torso, wiped his tears, and gave him a tender smile. "No one blames you. Not even Bran." He sniffled at his friend's name. "You did everything right my darling boy, but I have one tiny question."
He watched through blurry eyes as the Dornish woman picked up a small bunch of flowers she had been tying together and quirked his lips as she placed a small flower crown onto his blonde locks.
"What did the voice say? Can you remember?"
Tommen thought on the moment before his friend fell, but all he could see was the fear etched on the Stark boy's face, and all he could hear was their terrified screams. He closed his eyes and flinched as he attempted to recall any information.
"Something about love?" Myria gave the boy a sorrowful smile and wiped the fresh tears from his eyes. "I'm sure I can remember more, it hurts though."
She shook her head in disagreement, "No, no. It's fine my little fawn. You did wonderful." She kissed his forehead before standing from her kneeling position on the ground, grasping the rest of the roses as she went.
She held up another completed flower crown for the prince, "Would you like to go give this to Bran?" The child smiled and started to pull the woman back to Bran's chamber.
Once the pair had reached the open room the boy ran to his friend's side, smiling as he carefully placed the matching crown onto the wolf child. Lady Catelyn eyed the pair with confusion mixed with humor. "So we have something to remember each other by." The mother relaxed at the innocent gift and went back to her vigil by her son. Tommen leaned up to whisper something into his friend's ear before turning back to the Dornish woman watching by the doorway.
For the rest of the day the prince spent his time with Myria, from packing to leave all the way to when he had to enter the wheelhouse to head home to King's Landing. The fawn prince hugged his Dornish friend tightly, promising to write often. After he stepped away closer to the carriage his sister also gave her dear friend a bone crushing hug, trying to keep tears from her eyes as she wished the married woman well.
Myria watched the children leave with their mother into the royal wheelhouse with tearful eyes before approaching the Stark's wheelhouse to wish farewell to the girls she had begun to care dearly for. Sansa kept her proper facade, remaining prim as she wished her new sister-in-law well. Arya hugged Myria and asked if she could write a letter for her to her old instructor, Syrio Forel. The older woman laughed, but promised to get the feisty girl sword lessons as soon as possible.
Once both carriages were set to go the whole procession took off towards the gates of Winterfell, and the remaining occupants of the castle waved the long line off. Myria took a deep breath as she wandered to stand by Jon, lacing her fingers with his own. She glanced to his right to observe Robb and his mother wave off Lord Stark, and sighed at the sight of the depressed mother. She would have no choice, but to inform the now acting Lord of Winterfell what she found out. Someone was in that tower when the boys were climbing it, and based on what happened there was only one clear answer. The very thought of it made her want to gut a man.
The fall was no accident. Someone had pushed Bran Stark out of the window.