Game of Thrones: Tragedy and Reunions

Next chapter of my Game of Thrones story, enjoy.

Reviews

Baccan: Thanks, glad you enjoyed it.
magnus374: Yup, Robb is back; glad you enjoyed it :)

Now onto the story.

Disclaimer: Game of Thrones belongs to George R.R. Martin.

Bran

Bran kept his eyes closed; listening to Meera's ragged breathing. Bran wasn't sure exactly, but at least a day or two had passed since they were thrown into the dungeon. As the time passed several swollen and tender red bruises formed on Meera's skin. When they first appears Bran felt his rage returning, it was a reminder of the horrific treatment she had received and Bran knew that these obvious beatings were given to her for resisting something much worse. Something which happened anyway; his mind flashed back to the blood between her legs and he forced himself to stay calm. Anger wouldn't help him now. He opened his eyes, trying to stifle the awkwardness he felt.

Meera was regarded by the occupants of Dreadfort as a means of pleasure; her own well-being meant nothing to them. As such she hadn't even been given the simplest of clothing. At Bran's insistence that he wouldn't need it she had taken the single worn blanket in the cell and used it to improvise some clothing. Or at least, improvise simple small clothes; the blanket wasn't big enough for anything else. At the very least she wasn't naked anymore. All the same she was still uncomfortable; some of the ragged strips of cloth were in contact with the bruises and caused her pain. However; despite the horror in her eyes and her ragged breathing and occasionally dry heaving several times; she seemed to be in complete control of herself. Even now Bran could see her planning, thinking, and trying to get them out. He admired that strength but was afraid if she didn't let out her feelings soon she would break, and at the wrong moment.

Finally, however, it seemed Meera had decided something; she turned to him quickly.

"Bran, listen to me. No matter what happens next, I need you to say and do nothing do you understand? Just stay where you are...we're waiting for a guard to come, likely to take me back to the barracks." She paused, shuddered at the memory and then continued. "That's not going to happen though, I need you to draw his attention; put up with whatever insults he tries to throw at you, I need him to come into the cell. Understand."

Bran nodded.

"But...Why?" He asked.

Meera looked grim as she answered. "You'll see; he is going to get us out of this place."

With that she suddenly retreated to a dark corner of the cell, next to the door. It was then Bran heard the heavy footfalls of a guard, becoming louder the closer he approached. He swallowed and waited, his nerves on edge as he prayed Meera's plan would work. He heard the jangling of keys and then the door creaked open. It took Bran's eyes a moment to adjust to the bright torch the guard held as he stepped into the doorway. The flickering flame of the torch contorted the shadows on the guard's faced, making his cruel smirk seem utterly evil.

"So cripple, where's your little frog-eating whore?" He mocked in a savage tone. Bran held his tongue and waited, hoping Meera's plan paid off. "You better answer me boy, or soon it won't just be what's below the waist that you can't use."

Bran continued to remain silent and the man stepped into the cell, glaring.

The guard stepped forwards past Meera's hiding place.

"Last warning boy, where's your little whore?" He growled.

At that exact moment Meera moved out of the shadows and grabbed the man; her arms went around his head and neck. She squeezed and applied as much force as she could muster, then within moments man's desperate gasps ceased and he went limp. She let go and he fell to the ground in a heap. Bran stared in shock but Meera's ragged breathing brought him back to reality. She nodded grimly at him and searched the man thoroughly, even removing his clothing and helm. She shook her head and let out a frustrated sigh when she was done.

"Nothing." She said, "No weapons; he must've left them somewhere, thinking we wouldn't be a threat. Well, at least it wasn't a complete waste."

With that Meera pulled on the guard's clothes; wincing when they came into contact with her bruises. The clothes were two big for her but she pulled the belt tight and ripped the legs of the breeches to the right length. The tunic hung on her slender frame but there wasn't much she could do about that. She picked up the helmet and approached Bran.

She handed it to him. "Here; I doubt it'll be much use in hiding your identity since they know you're with me. But it can least offer some protection for you."

Bran looked at the helmet and back to Meera. "But...What about...?"

"I'll be fine."

He relented and put on the helmet. Meera lifted him up onto her back, a slight grunt being the only indication of her pain, and then, carrying him carefully, left the cell.

As they began to sneak through the dungeons, Meera explained that they would have to hide from the guards. She expected there to only be one guard at the entrance of the dungeons, and she would have put Bran down to subdue the guard. Bran agreed on the precaution that she was careful not to draw suspicion. Meera agreed and, after avoiding two groups of roaming guards, she successfully overcame the one blocking their path out.

They continued onwards until they heard the soft slaps of bare feet on stone. They stopped in the shadows and Meera let Bran down. He sat silently, watching as she prepared to make her move. As the figure walked nearby she grabbed him and pulled him into the shadows. However Bran immediately knew something was wrong; the man didn't look like a guard. In fact he looked like another prisoner.

"Meera, wait!" He whispered urgently; but fortunately she seemed to have noticed too before restraining the stranger.

"P-please!" The man cried out, his voice barely above a whisper. "Please, I want to help you."

Meera let him go cautiously, and they both observed him, their eyes narrowed in suspicion. He looked old, his hair white and brittle and he appeared to be in constant agony. He was missing teeth, fingers and toes, dressed in old rags, and he seemed to be shaking constantly. In all he looked like the most pitiable creature imaginable.

"Who are you?" Bran demanded.

The man seemed to shake even worse when Bran spoke. "R-Reek, my name is Reek."

That caught Bran's attention; there had been a Reek in Winterfell when Theon had taken control. But this couldn't be the same Reek; that one had been cruel and evil, this one wasn't. Meera glared at the man.

"Why would you help us?" She asked with an air of distrust.

Reek seemed to struggle before answering, as if just about everything was a torment for him. Going by his appearance it probably was. "I'm as much a prisoner here as you are, but I've found a way out."

Bran perked up at that; even Meera allowed a glimmer of hope to show.

The man named Reek fidgeted and told them of an old passage, hidden away, that he had recently uncovered. He was certain that it led right outside the Dreadfort. He had planned to use it himself but then heard about their imprisonment and decided to free them instead. He explained that he would have to stay behind in order to cover up the entrance and hide their escape as long as possible.

"But why would help us? Us in particular?" Meera questioned him.

Reek's eyes darted over to Bran, met his eyes and swiftly looked to the floor. Finally he mumbled his answer. "For my...redemption."

That confused Bran and Meera but they knew there was no time, they would have to trust Reek and so, after Meera picked Bran up again, they followed him. Reek walked slowly and hobbled, his missing toes clearly affecting his ability to walk.

'At least he can still actually walk.' Bran thought before realizing his bitterness and forced it away.

They continued to follow Reek until they came to what looked like a storeroom, filled with torture equipment. An uncontrollable shiver fell down Meera's spine when she saw the equipment, Bran guessed at least one, if not more of the objects in the room might have been used on Meera in the barracks. Reek carefully moved around some of the equipment and then after some muttering to himself and running his hand along the wall, he found what he was looking for. He then pushed the obscene torture rack aside and revealed the hidden passage.

"There, that should take you out. I would go with you, but then we'd be found out," he explained. "Just go, and don't worry about me...This is what I deserve anyway."

Still confused by Reek's words they did as he said and slipped into the passageway.

True enough they soon emerged outside Dreadfort. Realizing this Meera made sure Bran had a secure grip and then took off running, not looking back and not daring to stop.

After a terrifying sprint of constantly expecting someone to yell out and sound the alarm, they reached a forest clearing. Bran noted that it was the one they had been captured in. Meera suddenly sank to her knees. Bran observed her carefully. Her hair, more dishevelled than usual, was blocking her face from view. However Bran could feel the shake in her shoulders and hear her sobs. Suddenly those sobs turned into dry heaves. Something was different this time. Bran instinctively pulled as much of Meera's hair back and out of the way as possible. Just in time too, Meera lurched forward and retched violently.

Slowly it subsided and Meera gasped for air. Bran tapped her shoulder and pointed over to a nearby stream. Meera managed a small smile and helped him down so he was sitting against the nearby tree. She then hurried over to the stream and washed her face and rinse her mouth. Once done she relaxed onto her knees and breathed a sigh of relief.

Finally seeming back in control she returned to Bran and picked him up, determined to make their way south and as far away as possible from the Dreadfort. Surprisingly, despite the length of time that had passed, Meera could still make out the trail thanks to Jojen's deliberate tracks. They continued to follow it until night fell and they had no choice but to stop, Meera nearly overcome with exhaustion.

It was another cold night so they set things up to keep each other warm again. However this time, Bran was the one who suggested the action. While what he said was true, it was only part of the reason. His feelings for Meera made her distress clear to him; he wanted to do something, anything to comfort her. But all he could do was hold her, even as they lay there, the horrific nightmare of her rape and torture at the hands of Ramsay and his men caused her to break down in tears. Bran did what he could to support her as she cried into his shoulder. Eventually she seemed to calm down.

"Bran I...I'm sorry, I didn't mean..." She began breathlessly but Bran smiled.

"It's alright Meera; you've been through something terrible, I know that much. Just, if it makes you feel better, then cry. I'm here to help you." He paused and then smiled and added. "You don't have to be so strong all the time."

Seemingly relieved but with no more tears Meera relaxed and slowly drifted off to sleep. Bran however had trouble getting to sleep. He had a distinct fear gnawing at the back of his mind. Meera had explained to him about how they had attacked her, Ramsay even attacked her twice, the first and the last. Yet with that number of men, it was an almost certainty. Bran swallowed the thick lump that had formed in his throat as his mind raced.

'What if...What if one of those men put a bastard in her belly.' He thought, 'What will she do...?'

His thoughts still rushing Bran finally drifted off into a troubled, restless, sleep.

End of chapter, hope you enjoyed it, read and review please.