BRAN II - The First Day
After his father had left the room, Bran had quietly crept to the door to hear what his father would only say to the Maester alone. It made not any sense-why would his father think he were ill? And why would Maester Luwin say he had a Summer Cold when he had none of the symptoms? Through the door, Bran could hear his father say:
"He was crumpled against the wall as though he'd fallen, his eyes all gone white, and his body trembling like I ne'er seen before. I almost thought he was close to death!"
Was that how he looked when he had tried warging into Summer? Meera hadn't said he'd ever done that while warging before. But then again, he'd never asked either. What had happened? Had warging done something to him? A sudden headache began to overtake him as he thought about the warging he had done, causing his thoughts to feel scrambled, but he knew he needed to focus and so he forced himself to focus on what had happened.
The more he focused on warging, the more restless he felt. Bran needed to think, but he couldn't do it here in this castle of stone and dead wood-even if it was his home. He needed to feel the dirt beneath his feet, hear the wind rustle through the trees, taste the blood of a fresh kill, and track the scent of a frightened hare. Where were the trees and dirt and mud? He looked around and saw nothing but dead wood and stone. But through a window he caught sight of a bunch of trees-a forest!-off in the near distance.
Bran threw open the window and swiftly climbed the single story down the wall of the Maester's Turret. Once he'd gotten to the ground, he heard his father call to him from above. But he still felt the need to go out and run through the underbrush. So with a parting glance to his father, he took off for the closest gate out of the castle-the hunter's gate.
The Hunter's Gate was named as such because it was the closest gate to open to the Wolfswood, and thus the easiest to leave by if one were desirous of taking a hunting party out. As he ran for the gate and drawbridge, Bran hardly thought about the ever distant cries of his father or the sleepy guards he dodged. His mind was focused-out there in the forest. He had to make it there, and then he could think clearly!
Once he was inside its boundaries, he didn't let up until he came to a clearing. He was tired, and so he circled a few times and sat down amongst the ferns to pant and catch his breath. He felt a cool late summer breeze pick up and heard the wind rustle the pines and leaves of the mixed forest which made up the Wolfswood. Yes… it was here in the forest he belonged, not trapped behind tall walls of stone and dead wood.
Just then he heard a twig snap and Bran's head jerked to the right to see a packmate-no, his pack mother!-standing on the edge of the clearing, staring at him. He called to her to come, the yelp sounding off to his ears-but it didn't matter, as his pack mother tilted her head in slight confusion before slowly approaching him. She padded her way across the new damp leaves, pine needles, moss, and ferns to where he sat. She sniffed him, clearly confused as to why he smelt so familiar and yet so alien all at once. Finally she tentatively began to clean his face, as though to scold him for getting dirty. He laughed and whined as her rough tongue diligently found every nook and cranny of his face-tickling him behind his ears.
And then, suddenly, Bran became aware of himself again when he heard a familiar voice say:
"Shoot not! You could hit the boy!"
Bran then saw Jory and Ser Rodrick with a large dead stag being drug behind them. Ser Rodrick however was still knocking an arrow in his bow, despite Jory's harried whisper.
"Run!" whispered Bran to the she-wolf. She looked once more confused for a moment before noticing the men at the edge of the clearing and swiftly bounded away, the arrow narrowly missing her as she did, and lodging itself in a tree.
Jory dropped the stag and immediately rushed upon Bran and picked him up, asking "Are you all right, my little lord?"
"Yes," mumbled Bran in response.
"What were you thinking? That beast could've killed you, lad" added Ser Rodrick as he put away his arrow and picked up the stag which Jory had left.
"She wouldn't have!" insisted Bran.
"She? Aye, she did look big in the belly, and her teats were hanging low. It's the she-wolves you must be the most careful of," concluded Jory.
"Let's get you back to the castle, lad, before she decides to come back for this stag here." said Ser Rodrick with a grunt as he adjusted the gigantic stag upon his shoulders.
Bran willingly left with them, shocked by what had just occurred. Why had he left the Maester's room? Why had he come out here to the forest, alone? What had he been thinking! He recalled that he'd wanted to run, but why had his thoughts become so wolfish? It didn't make any sense. Maybe it was a reaction to trying to war with Summer? But Summer hadn't come-his pack mother…
And suddenly the only explanation flitted across his mind. He had somehow been sent to the past, before Summer and his pack had been born, before his father had left for King's Landing, and before he'd fallen. That he could still warg, was proof enough that the future he remembered had still taken place-though why he'd had this reaction to it, he couldn't explain.
But no sooner than he could ponder how such a thing were possible-for no tale told by Old Nan ever mentioned a situation like this-Jory, Ser Rodrick, and Bran had returned to the hunter's gate where his father was on a horse with four other guardsmen, looking ready to ride out until one of the guards pointed to them, and his father's eye caught their exiting the forest. His father was no sooner off his horse and by his side, taking him from Jory, than Ban had blinked. His father held him tight and close.
"Never do anything like that again! Do you understand me?" implored his father, looking directly into his eyes-no mask was on his father for this brief moment, his eyes full of fear and worry, and love. Then suddenly his father's parental mask was back in place, as much as it had vanished and he added, "That's not the way for a future knight to behave."
"I want not to be a knight anymore," Bran murmured meekly.
"Knight, lord, sellsword-it does not matter-none of them would ever behave in such a manner. Do you understand?"
"Yes, Father."
A bit of good humor now entered his father's voice along with relief, "Good, now let's get you back inside, before your lady mother suspects that you even left."
"My lord, a word." urged Ser Rodrick as he took the stag from his shoulders.
Father's Lord Eddard mask returned, and he indicated with a nod for Ser Rodrick to continue.
"We came upon the boy in a clearing with a wolf nearby."
"Nonsense! By the size of that beast, I'd say that thing had to be a direwolf, milord!"
"A direwolf hasn't been seen south of the wall in almost two centuries, Jory." reminded Lord Eddard solemnly.
"I'm only saying what I saw, milord. I swear by the gods!"
"Direwolf or no, I say we kill the beast. No one is safe with that monster on the prowl. She nearly had your boy."
Bran felt his father's grip on him tighten, and Bran immediately felt he had to intercede, but all he could say was, "No!"
"Tyrol, take the boy," urged Lord Eddard with a nod to the closest mounted guard. Tyrol urged his horse forward and tried to pull Bran up onto his horse, but Bran slipped out of both Tyrol's and his father's grasp, and pulled on his father's clothes to get his attention.
"No, father! You can't kill her!" and suddenly a brief memory of what had gone before appeared in his mind. Yes, that was the way to argue, and so he continued with, "The direwolf is our House sigil! It would be an act against the gods to kill her!"
The weight of his pronouncement seemed to unsettle the guards and Jory. Ser Rodrick was nonplussed, but his father seemed caught on the argument, even if just for the moment, which was enough time to urge Bran to continue further.
"Leave her be! Mayhaps she brings good luck upon our house."
His father seemed to ponder this for a moment, before turning to Jory and Ser Rodrick and saying, "What's one wolf in a forest named for it?"