A/N: Hiya! So yeah, this is going to be a version of what could happen in the book sin the future, though probably wont. All those dead are still dead. (Also found on ) This took a while because well, I just didn't know how to Write Bran. I got a little emotional towards the end as well. Confession: I'm still on a Feast for Crows so I don't know what happens to Bran or Meera or anything beyond the Wall. Okay! Enjoy!

Bran

The first thing he heard upon waking was Hodor repeating his name over and over again, quietly, softly and loudly all at once. He opened his eyes slowly, not wanting to wake up, to have to face another long and boring day of being carried around like a child to oversee the rebuilding. Not that he wasn't happy to be home, to have Winterfell back, because he was. But the memories of the castle brought with it and the sudden emptiness didn't make him love the place as much as he once had. The few that had survived had returned, bending their knee to him and swearing loyalty, to help rebuild and protect till such a time it wasn't needed anymore. Whenever that is, I hope I am still not so alone.

Sometimes Bran would find himself wondering where his little brother, Rickon was, if he was still with Osha, still alive, still even in Westeros. Sometimes he'd regret his decision of sending him off while he went South with the Reeds, then he would remember all he'd faced and swear to himself he would explain it to Rickon one day. One day when you are home again. Jon was in his mind often as well, the one sibling he knew the whereabouts of, the one who was protecting him as best he could from the Wall. Jon had been the one to find him, Hodor and the Reeds, the one to bring him home, to ensure his safety. His bastard brother Jon. Bran never truly realised how much he loved and had missed Jon till he'd left again.

With his lord father dead and Robb as well, Bran knew he was the Lord of Winterfell by name, but not by right till he was of age. Again, it was Jon who was taking the right, but still Jon never did more than Bran himself would have. We are both as cautious as the other. It had been three moons turn since Jon's last visit, he reflected as he looked at the letter in front of him.

Bran,

I ride for Winterfell on the 'morrow, there is important matters we must discuss. When I arrive the banners must be called and a counsel held. A dragon rides North and with it our sisters.

Jon.

It was short and to the point. '...and with it our sisters' he read again, mulling the words over in his brain. There was no doubt in his mind Jon meant Sansa and Arya. Though how he knew was a question, and...Arya is meant to be dead and Sansa lost. How can they be alive and coming home? Bran spent several minuets considered everything, many emotions rushed through him all at once he wasn't quite sure how he felt. He settled on joy mingled with slight excitement. They were coming home, with a dragon! At five and ten, Bran decide it was okay to still be excited over dragons. He was still thinking about what was coming up the Kingsroad when there was a light knock on the door.

"Come in." He said in his best Lords commanding voice, he'd been practising with Meera Reed.

It was however, Meera who entered the room. Her brown hair was fastened at the back and the ivy green dress one of the woman has put her in matches her eyes, making them stand out. Bran catches himself staring at her and quickly shakes his head, trying to regain his Lord like composure.

"What can I help you with Meera?" He asks.

"That Maester said there had been a Raven with a letter from Jon Snow. Is there news from the Wall or one of the other reaming kings?"

"No, it has nothing to with kings, more to with dragons and lost sisters." Bran said, holding the letter out for Meera to look at. He knew it was a strange set up, that he shouldn't be letting her know such things, but after all they had been through, Bran felt that there was no one better to help him then Meera, she did seem to know what she was doing after all.

"Dragons?" she asked, looking up at Bran from the letter, like she expected him to know. Bran only shrugged his shoulders. "There are rumours' of dragons across the Narrow Sea, of a Targaryen princess taking the lands and banishing slavery as she goes. They say she has dragons, three of them. By now, large enough to at least eat a knight."

"I have heard these tales too, I did not even consider them to be true, but now...If the dragons Jon speaks of are indeed true dragons and a Targaryen, and they are marching here...then I can only hope they bring my sisters back on good terms and not to start another war." Bran muttered not wanting to think of the alternative. The North could not cope with a war against dragons, not while it was still so hell bent on the Lions.

The Lions must die before dragons will even cross their paths. There was no doubt in his mind that is Bran called the banners the men would come and fight, but it would not be true. Many men died for Robb and many had sworn to do the same for him, but he would not send them off to die in a battle he could not even fight in.

"The North will always follow a Stark, Bran, you told me that yourself. No matter what happens, wither they are coming on good terms or for war, the North will fight for you as they did your brother. The North is hournable and true, should you call them, they will come." Meera said, sometimes he thought she could read his mind, but other times he thought his thought were just clear on his face.

"Tell the cook to prepare something extra nice and hot for tonight, Jon will be here before night fall and he'll want something hot." He said, smiling at the girl. Meera smiled back, a toothy smile that made him laugh

"As my lord commands." She said before walking out, the smile still on her face.

Bran went back to his thinking, a smile still on his face as he considered all that would happen shortly. Winterfell was near finished, the great keep all but done and the outer buildings nearing finishing. The people will come back, the men of the North will come and I'll be expected to rule a castle. Brandon Stark, Lord of Winterfell, Prince of the North. Is this how you felt Robb? When men put a crown on your head and called you King? I wish you were here, this was meant for you, not me. A lump rose in his throat as he remembered Robb as he's last seen him, young and strong, looking like no one would pull him down. But yet he'd fallen, and now he was gone too. Just like father, just like mother, and he wasn't coming back. You were the only one who I got to say goodbye to Robb, you said you'd come home, that you'd all come home. But you never did...