He opened his eyes gradually, seeing the shadow- like man approaching towards him, with a can of hot bubbling liquid holding in his hands.
He sat down, facing him while pouring the hot tea-like substance in a cup.
"Drink", he said under the black cloth his face was covered with. Only his eyes had been visible. He knew these eyes.
"Who are you?", asked Bran in an angry voice, almost annoyingly.
"Drink!" His eyes almost bored into his, making him speechless and compelled to take the cup and drink the goddamn tea with the gross smell.
"Trust me, if I wanted you to die, I would have let you stayed where you had been before. Drink, it's going to warm you up".
A stinging feeling bored into his heart as Bran heard those words.
Death almost had him. And Meera. The Gods will never forgive him for what he's done.
"Who are you?", Bran now asked in a softer voice, almost about to break in tears.
The man in the cloak stood up, removing the black cloth which was hiding his face. Bran's heart skipped a beat that very second.
"Uncle Benjen! Where have you been?"
Seeing his uncle in front of him made him react totally flabbergasted. He hadn't seen his uncle for ages.
"Just where you are now. I went out into the forest, heading way deep north to see if the rumours had been true. About the White Walkers.
Apparently they were".
Benjen Stark paused for a moment, picking up his cup to get a deep gulp of it.
His whole appearance was so different from the old Uncle Benjen he knew.
His face covered in scars, his eyes giving a way more serious look than ever.
The once jolly Uncle Benjen had turned into something cold.
"One of them had scratched me deep in my heart. I was read to die".
"So how come you are still alive, Uncle Benjen?"
"He paused again, pouring the loathsome tea into his cup, taking another gulp.
"Why didn't you turn into a White Walker?" Bran was so shocked about his own question. He started to believe that this man was actually a White Walker disguised as his own uncle. But then again, the stories never said that White Walkers could deceive the human's eye.
"Because the same kind who had created them, saved me from becoming one".
"The children of the forest". Bran remembered the vision of vicious Leaf.
He also remembered the eyes of the victim looking straight into his eyes.
His brain started to pain and the picture in front of his eyes blurred.
He fell into another dream.
The market felt so familiar to him. Except that it was warmer in Casterly Rock.
People were selling goods, other were bargaining. The whores had their own business, waiting in the corner for a customer to enter the brothel with her.
It was a very jolly, daily life picture. Everything seemed so normal.
But only a few knew what was going on behind the scenes.
Only a few knew the brutality performed on the women behind the curtains. How some of them were forced to lose their dignity in order to feed their children.
How noble people came to the market to bargain with the poor.
Hardly did any of them ever realize that those people were on the edge of losing their lives and children, who were at the hunger's mercy.
And even less people did know how those same people selling goods would show avarice to the ones almost dying on the streets of Casterly Rock.
That's how the world has been.
May the Gods forgive the sins.