A/N: I'm breaking my pattern this chapter. I prefer to only have one POV per chapter but I have stuff to cover from two POVs which happens over the same time period. There will be some switching between and I have labelled it. Also I have been listening to Hey Brother by Avicii and it gave me Stark feels (not sure if I'm strange but the lyrics just made me think of their relationships). As a result I ended up writing a short Bran POV and including it in this chapter. I wanted to write it ages ago (thanks to the reviewer on AO3 who suggested it quite some time ago) but could not find enough to make up a full chapter. It fits in with this one anyway so it all worked out.
Thanks again to the reviewers, I can't believe the story now has 100 reviews! It is great hearing from you guys
Chapter 62: Aegon | Arya | Bran
Aegon
They had dragged him behind the half constructed tent. Aegon could barely think. His face throbbed and his arm was bleeding too. He did not know what other injuries he had, right then he did not care. Arya was still out there. He could not see her but he knew she was trying to fight that thing. I never should have left her.
He made a number of attempts to go back, calling out to Arya. Lord Connington was not capable of stopping him. It appeared that Ser Robert had injured his sword hand quite grievously. Connington held himself back, cradling the hand close to him and giving everybody who approached a death stare. Nymeria Sand however was exceedingly capable. Her dark eyes flashed dangerously when Aegon struggled to free himself from her grip. She all but sat on him.
"Do you think she will thank you if you die trying to save her?" she whispered harshly. "Do not be a fool Aegon. If you die all is lost."
Everything is about that damned throne. He stayed there, not out of choice but because Nymeria would not let him go. She was resentful, he could see that. She wanted to be out there as much as he did. Time passed excruciatingly slowly. He heard men cursing, shouting and dying and his heart was pounding in his chest. Nymeria scowled and mopped at the blood on his face.
"Who was the man on the black horse?" he asked, hoping she would talk. His mind was conjuring up all kinds of awful images, some involving Duck and he wanted to retch remembering it. The rest involved Arya lying broken at the feet of Gregor Clegane. "Do you know him?"
"No." she said abruptly.
"Arya knew him" he pressed on "at least, it seemed she knew him."
Nymeria sighed but Connington responded instead. "We will find out when we speak with her."
He said when not if. Arya's voice carried on the wind and he felt a mix of relief and renewed fear. She was still alive for now. Harry Strickland stumbled behind the tent breathing heavily. Aegon fixed him a glare though the look on Connington's face was much more frightening.
"Why aren't you out there?" he barked.
"What is happening?" Aegon demanded.
"That mad girl is trying to fight Clegane" Harry gasped. "He isn't right, he has no head!"
Nymeria tensed as much as Aegon did. She anticipated his renewed struggle and he shouted in frustration again. He turned his anger on Homeless Harry.
"You should be out there helping, not hiding here."
Harry was immune to the attack. "The Northmen and that mystery knight are there. There is nothing more I could add. If I die I am of no use."
That isn't true Aegon thought spitefully if you die the next commander of the Golden Company will be somebody with a spine. He felt a tightness in his chest remembering Duck again. He knew he would die and he fought anyway. Aegon could see it in his bearing before he fell. He could still see the white cloak turning red and he could hear Arya's howl, half rage and half grief.
Haldon joined them not long afterwards. He met Aegon's questions with an abrupt shake of his head and promptly began to check his wounds. Aegon brushed him off. Connington was even worse when Haldon wanted to look at his hand. He would not let the Halfmaester touch him. They waited instead for what seemed like an age.
The wait ended when they heard the shouting change. The sounds of battle had stopped. Lady Nym stalked around the tent and after just a moment waved for them to follow. Aegon needed no encouragement. He shot forward only to see Arya lying limp in the arms of the large man who had ridden in on the black horse. He froze on the spot, feeling sicker than he had before.
"Don't just fucking stand there" the man rasped. "Get a maester."
Arya
It was dark, so dark but Arya could feel warmth too. She could hear the sound of running water and ravens cawing. A boy was on a seat made of weirwood and he wept. She could feel his tears were not of sadness though, they were tears of joy.
"Sister" he said though his lips did not move. "Arya, I have missed you."
"Bran" she whispered back. "I do not understand."
"You will" he replied. "You were always quick."
The darkness fled and was replaced by blinding light. She could still hear a raven. Arya blinked and tried to focus. Her vision was blurry, one eye was almost swollen shut and she hurt all over. When she tried to move it was even worse. A maester was leaning over her, one from the Northern army.
"You will need to remain still Your Grace."
"Where is Bran?" she asked, confused. It hurt to speak. It hurt to breathe.
"There is no Bran here."
Arya blinked again and tried to look around. Her head pained her but she managed to see that she was in a tent. There were many beds and many injured men. The raven was perched by her bed looking at her. It squawked again.
She struggled to move once more. Bran had been real, she somehow knew that. She had felt him ever since the first time she had seen through the bird's eyes. This was the most vivid though, this time the connection was much stronger. She had not been certain before whether her mind was playing tricks on her but now she was sure. He is alive and he can feel me too. She swung to look at the raven again, wincing from the sharp pain in her head.
"You really must not move Your Grace. We do not know the extent of your injuries."
Arya muttered curses in Braavosi and heard harsh laughter. She risked another wave of pain to locate the source and saw Sandor Clegane. Without the helm she could see the burns on his face. His mouth twitched as he looked at her.
"Did it work?" she asked in a panic.
Sandor snorted. "Would we be here if it didn't?"
I suppose not. "You were meant to be dead" she told him. She tried to decide whether it was a good thing that he wasn't. The vague memory of Mycah was competing against the image of Sandor fighting against Ser Robert Strong.
His mouth twitched again. "I heard the same of you. It almost ended up being true today."
The memories came flooding back and Arya bit her lip to stop herself crying out as she tried to sit up. Duck died she thought helplessly. She remembered Aegon trying to get away. He had been bleeding.
"Aegon" she started to ask.
"He's in better shape than you." He made a sound that might have been a laugh. "He won't be so pretty now. Gregor cut his face"
Arya felt anger course through her. She waved the maester away. He only took two steps backwards and looked at her with a pained expression. "Why didn't you go to him first?" Every word was an effort. "You could have saved Duck."
Sandor snorted again at that. "You mean that Kingsguard knight? He did what he was meant to do. I was trying to help an ungrateful little wolf bitch. I don't know why I fucking bothered."
"I don't know why either." She saw something flicker across his face then and it was enough to make her realise she was being ungrateful. She could not seem to stop though. "I didn't need your help. You should have gone to him first."
Sandor was silent. The maester came back and poked at Arya's wrist until she cursed. He then removed her boots and he poked at her ankle until she hissed at him.
"Look" Sandor said, "This thing about the knight" He paused and looked to be struggling. "I just knew Cersei wanted you dead and I knew the prince wasn't going to thank me if I left you for Gregor."
Cersei. Arya felt as though her rage was going to overwhelm her. "He was my friend" she choked out. The maester began to adjust her ringmail and Arya realised he wanted to remove it. He looked over at Sandor who stood to leave. Arya shook her head and tried to stop him. Pain shot up her arm.
"No" she said.
The maester wrung his hands. "I need to see, Your Grace. I can't treat you otherwise"
"No" she said again. "Please, send Haldon."
The maester looked offended but Arya could not think of his feelings. Haldon did not take long to find her. He looked her over quickly without the simpering and courtesies of the other maester then he suggested she be moved to her own tent for treatment. Arya protested as Sandor picked her up and carried her. It hurt even though he seemed to be trying to be careful.
"Where is my uncle? The Northmen?"
His mouth twitched. "They have their own injuries." He set her down on the bed in the tent more gently than she would have expected. She wanted to ask more questions but he cut her off. "Is there wine?"
"A little" she replied. "I'll make sure you get some."
He nodded and left her with Haldon in the tent. The Halfmaester did not bother to ask why she had requested him. It was fairly obvious the moment he managed to remove the mail and boiled leather. Arya had some scars but he knew not to ask questions. She also wore a bite mark from Aegon. Haldon's mouth was set in a grim line as he felt around her ribs.
"Try not to speak or move if you don't have to."
Arya began to nod in response but the pain stopped her. Haldon put a patch over the bite and bandaged her ankle and put her wrist in a cast. He told her she would need to be still for a couple of days at least and would need to walk with a stick after that. He felt around her head.
"You have a lump."
Arya did not remember hitting her head. She guessed it must have happened when she fell. Haldon was most concerned about her ribs. The ringmail had protected her from the worst of the impact but she was still heavily bruised. He said she would need to rest longer for that to heal and would need milk of the poppy. It was then that he paused and looked at her with cool grey eyes.
"You are bleeding."
Arya did not understand his expression at first. Why doesn't he just do something about it? After a moment of him looking at her with a mix of judgement and concern in his eyes Arya realised what it was he meant. I do not want to talk to him about this.
"It must be my moon blood" she said with difficulty. The pain from her ribs made both talking and breathing harder and the more she spoke the worse it got. Haldon's expression showed he thought she was lying. Why must everybody think I am with child she thought, exasperated. "I drink moon tea. Don't tell Aegon or Connington anything stupid."
Cara came to assist her and reeled backwards when she saw her. "Your face..." she cast her eyes down. "I'm sorry Your Grace." Arya could care less about her face right then. She was sore and sleepy and sick from all that had happened. The brazier was lit and Cara helped her into a shift before Arya asked her to fetch wine for Sandor. The furs were pulled over her and Haldon returned to give her milk of the poppy.
"Sleep now" he ordered her.
Arya did not get a chance to answer. Her eyelids became too heavy and she sank into blackness again.
Aegon
Aegon had downed three cups of wine and it had dulled his senses. That was a blessing. Every time he became remotely lucid he could see Duck dying in front of him. He could hear Arya's reaction again. His wounds were not very serious. There were cuts on his arm and chest which had been stitched. The wound on his face was smaller but it would still scar. Haldon had applied a plaster to his face. It partially blocked his sight on that side.
They would not let him see Arya for some time. Instead he sat and heard them discuss the dead and injured. Franklyn Flowers and Galbart Glover were the most high profile losses apart from Duck. Dozens of knights and men at arms had died, many from the Golden Company. The red priest was injured although not seriously, the Blackfish had one arm in a sling, Lady Maege Mormont had a broken leg and two of the Skagosi had died.
Aegon listened to them feeling numb. Lord Connington was distancing himself from everybody else. He still wouldn't let anybody look at his hand. Haldon pursed his lips when Connington brushed him off, saying he had soaked it in boiling wine and bound it with cloth. It looked terrible but naught could be done when Connington would not let anybody see it properly. Aegon heard him mutter something about "needing that damned girl" before discussion turned to how the Mountain had managed to catch them unawares.
He downed another cup of wine while they spoke. When they finished he was finally allowed to leave.
"Don't do anything foolish" Connington warned.
Aegon did not answer him. He made his way to Arya's tent with guards from the Golden Company flanking him. The man who had ridden in on the black horse was sitting just outside the tent. He was hard to look at without his helm. The burns made a ruin of his face. It almost seemed he was smiling as Aegon approached, he held a cup in his hand which he placed on the ground and he promptly rose and took a knee.
"Your grace"
Aegon paused at the entrance of the tent and asked him to rise. "I owe you my thanks Ser."
He knew instantly he had said something wrong. The man's face contorted.
"I am no knight. My brother was a knight. Their vows mean shit." He looked at Aegon with a burning intensity. "I have lived my whole life with people spitting on me for what they said he did to you and your mother."
"You are Sandor Clegane" Aegon said slowly. He had heard the name spoken but he had not been certain. "What are you doing here?"
"I came to kill Gregor" Sandor replied. He gestured at a wineskin. "Now I'm drinking wine. The she-wolf has been quite generous considering she was furious I did not let her die instead of your knight."
Aegon lost interest in conversation. He muttered a farewell and pushed inside the tent. Arya was in bed and sleeping. The Blackfish was sitting by her bed, his arm in a sling as reported. He looked haggard and he held Arya's hand in his. Aegon dismissed his guards and pulled a stool up along the other side of her bed.
"They gave her milk of the poppy for her pain" Ser Brynden explained. His voice sounded hoarse.
Aegon looked at her. She was so pale. One eye was blackened and swollen and he could see her wrist was in plaster on his side of the bed. Her hair was messy and he reached out to brush it back from her forehead.
"I always think of her as unbreakable" he said softly. "This happened because of me."
The Blackfish scoffed. "She said you know her best. Nobody can stop her when she has her mind set on something. You must know that."
Aegon did not answer. He kept smoothing her hair, remembering her as she had been only the night before. Arya had been glorious even before she had been naked in front of him. She was always so full of life. He never expected to see her in this state and it hurt. He bent over her and pressed his lips to her forehead.
"You have been drinking" the Blackfish said stiffly.
Aegon straightened up and looked at him with bleary eyes. "I am not drunk."
Ser Brynden's mouth was set in a hard line. "Do not feel that you may take liberties just because my niece sleeps."
Aegon struggled between his feelings of guilt and the injustice of the accusation. "I would never do anything Arya did not wish Ser" he said defensively. He looked down at her again. She shifted a little in her sleep and he heard her whimper. Her hair was still caught in his fingers and he brushed it away once more.
The Blackfish looked at him darkly. "She told me you wished to marry another."
I do not wish it. Aegon stood. "I will take my leave Ser" he managed. "Will you tell her I came to see her?"
Ser Brynden pursed his lips. "If she wishes to see you when she wakes I will send for you" was all he said. "You are not to come here again."
The message was clear. Aegon was not welcome. It is only right he thought as he walked away. It is my fault.
Arya
Arya lost all concept of time. When she woke she was thirsty. Her uncle was there and he fetched her water, holding the cup to her lips. She almost choked on it. The pain had not lessened, if anything it was worse. Arya tried to hide it. She did not want to go back to sleep yet.
"Tell me who" she forced out. "Tell me how."
Thankfully the Blackfish knew what she meant by those few words. He did not try to shelter her. The list of the dead was a long one. Ser Robert had killed the scouts to prevent them warning of his coming. He had then cut through the horse lines to cause the distraction. Ser Brynden began to tell her of the injured. That list was fairly long too. She found her concentration wavering before he was done.
"The Hound is still here" Ser Brynden said.
Arya did not understand it. He must want something. She would need to find out as soon as she was able to speak and think properly. It would be better if she was up and capable of moving around. He must not see me weak. She did not know what to expect from him. The Blackfish did not like him near her tent but Arya said to let him be for now. Haldon came to see her and check her injuries. He shook his head, looking unhappy and gave her another dose of milk of the poppy despite her protests.
The next days were a blur of pain and poppy dreams. Arya found out little pieces of information each time she woke. The march had clearly halted and it frustrated her. She was not used to being weak. Her men came and went, all looking concerned. Ser Robett Glover tried to cover his grief but Arya knew. She reached out with her uninjured arm and took his hand.
"I know what it is to lose a brother."
Lady Maege limped in using a stick to aid her broken leg. There was a softness underneath her usual gruff exterior. She placed her hand on Arya's arm.
"You did the North proud Your Grace."
The Skagosi did not seem to know what to say. When Arya brought up the dead to them the leader shook his head. They had died honourable deaths and that was all he cared about. He renewed his vow of fealty to her, switching between faltering Common Tongue and the Old Tongue.
Thoros visited too. He had a large cut across his chest. Arya knew he was lucky to be alive. If it had been deeper he would be dead.
"R'hllor is not finished with me yet" he said in a wry voice. "How did you know about the fire?"
Arya was not sure how to explain so she simply told him of what Jon had said. Thoros went very quiet upon hearing of what was happening at the Wall. He muttered about needing to search the flames and left her.
Aegon did not come to see her. Arya was confused. She knew he was not badly injured, her uncle had told her with a strange expression that he only had a few cuts. It had been almost a week before she got answers. She woke to find Nymeria Sand perched over her bed. If Arya had been one to startle easily she might have screamed to wake with the other woman's face only inches from hers. Instead she simply struggled to sit.
"Lady Nym" she said, pleased to find speech was not so difficult now. "I wondered when I might see you again."
"This is not my first visit" Nymeria said, looking curiously at the direwolf lying on the ground beside Arya's bed. The wolf spent more time by her side during her convalescence. "You were asleep during the other times."
Arya wanted to ask her about Aegon but she did not know how. Thankfully Lady Nym saved her the bother.
"My cousin has hidden himself away. He will not see anybody. He has taken the death of his Kingsguard knight very hard. He blames himself for that and your injuries and will not listen to reason. If we had more wine I think he would be permanently drunk."
It did not sound like Aegon. Arya began to struggle up, searching for the stick she was given. Before she could leave Connington darkened the entrance to her tent. He shot a look at Lady Nym and the Dornishwoman smirked and took her leave. He hesitated a moment before striding to the side of her bed. Arya could immediately smell something bad.
"Haldon tells me you will be able to get up and move now."
"Yes" Arya replied. She was still covered in purplish bruising but her pain was less and she was on lower doses of milk of the poppy. "Nymeria told me about Aegon." Before he could answer she sniffed. "I heard you injured your hand. It smells bad."
Connington grimaced. "It is bad. I can't feel it but it is infected. Haldon wants to see it. I'm running out of excuses." He hesitated. "That is not why I am here."
Arya could see a war going on inside him. His purpose was clearly one of last resort. He does not want to ask.
"You want me to speak with him."
Lord Connington looked deflated. "It is not right but there is no alternative. He will not listen to anybody else."
Arya nodded. "You did not need to ask" she said softly. "I would have gone anyway. I know how to get through to him."
Aegon
Aegon heard them all talking about him. He was not behaving as a prince should and he was not behaving as a king should. Every time the effects of the wine wore off he was stuck with living with what had happened. Connington had spoken with him but Connington did not understand.
Aegon tried to tell him. "Duck died to save me."
"That was his duty" Connington replied. "It was what he was sworn to do." There was a hint of respect in Connington's tone.
"He should not have had to die" Aegon said flatly. "He was my friend."
Connington looked at him with an incredulous expression. "He wore the white cloak. You said it yourself when you chose him. Duck would die for you. That was the reason you gave for choosing him. You cannot wallow now just because it happened."
It was a reminder that this was his fault. When I said that I never thought it would happen. Aegon had been a cocky, stupid boy then with no real sense of how war worked. It was not the same as the stories. They made it seem all glory and excitement.
He felt listless now. He sat on his bed in the tent looking at one of the history books he had with him. Lemore's voice cut across his thoughts from outside. She had arrived only a couple of days after the battle. Aegon had been so excited about her coming but after what happened he could not face her. There was a noise behind him and he tensed.
"I want to be alone" he said quietly. A hand rested on his shoulder. He turned to look. It was Arya. Her hair was loose and tousled and although her eye was still bruised it was not swollen now and the colour was fading. She was wearing a robe and only one boot. Her arm was still in a cast. She held a stick in the other hand.
"I won't leave Aegon."
Aegon simply nodded. She sat without an invitation and her hand reached up to his face. He flinched a little as she pulled the plaster away. Haldon had wanted to remove it earlier. Aegon had sent him out, telling him he did not want to see anybody.
"Did they send you in here?"
"Yes" she replied "but I wanted to come." She bit her lip. "I know it is not the same but he was my friend too." He saw her looking at his face curiously as she pushed his hair back away from where the cut had been.
"Am I hideous?" he asked.
Arya's grin was fleeting. "Never" she said in a serious voice. "It has healed well. The scar simply makes you look like a warrior."
Duck was more of a warrior than me.
Arya seemed to know what he was thinking. She shifted closer and rested her head on his shoulder.
"You will never stop missing him."
"I don't want to think about it." Aegon said stiffly. They sat in silence for a while before she spoke again.
"It is not your fault Aegon. You cannot blame yourself for any of it."
Aegon began to protest but she would not let him. She put her arms around him and began to rock gently, rubbing his back with her good hand. It felt so good to be near her again but it brought his guilt to the surface even more.
"He loved you" he choked out. Arya tensed and he rushed to clarify. "Not the same way I love you but he loved you all the same." He lifted his head to look at her and saw moisture on her lashes. It broke him and when she took him back into her arms again he wept. Arya kissed him and petted him and encouraged him. When he was finally done she looked into his eyes and he could see a steely resolve.
"You will not blame yourself any more" she said. "Grieve for him but do not hide away. You are better than that."
Aegon began to protest again and she cut him off.
"You did not see it all Aegon and you have not been listening. Robert Strong was sent for both of us, not just you. If it is your fault then it is mine as well. I do not blame myself."
Aegon looked at her, not understanding what she was trying to tell him. He reached for her carefully and she gave him comfort again. Her touch was gentle and her kisses soothing. Her voice however was iron when she whispered in his ear.
"There is someone to blame. You just have been too upset to see it. I was only nine when my father gave me this lesson and I have never forgotten it. Hate and blame should be reserved for those who truly deserve it. It should be kept for those who were really responsible. That is not either of us. Think about it Aegon. Think about who sent him. They did this and they must pay."
Aegon could hear her hatred seeping into her words. As soon as he gave it thought it boiled up inside him too. He looked into her dark grey eyes, so much wiser than his despite her being younger. Duck had said Daenerys would never make a better queen than Arya. She would not make a better wife for him than Arya. Although Aegon had no choice he felt the truth of those words now.
"I needed you" he said, cupping her face and kissing her with a passion he never thought he would feel again. "You make me better." Her fingers dug into his shoulder as he began to kiss down her throat. "Will you stay with me?"
Arya only hesitated a moment before lying down in his bed and allowing him to lie close to her.
"Yes" she said
Bran
Every day had been much the same for such a long time. He sat in his weirwood throne and he saw. He had learned to fly and he could fly almost anywhere. The ravens could send messages, Bran had learned that. Lord Brynden had said all he could do was watch through the trees but with the ravens he could do more but only if people understood.
Bran saw so much. He saw Jon at Castle Black and Rickon at Winterfell. Sansa was still out of his reach but he knew she lived. Arya had been out of his reach too but now she was close. He saw her when she arrived at Winterfell. He saw her with the prince. He saw her with Rickon and he saw her with Jon. Seeing them together made his heart ache.
Bran only had Lord Brynden, Meera Jojen and Hodor. Jojen faded more with each day and would not last much longer. Meera wept for her brother. Lord Brynden spoke with him about the trees but he did not help Bran with his loneliness. It was difficult seeing his brothers and his sister and not being able to speak with them, not truly. He wanted to tell them what he knew.
He knew much and more. The weirwoods had shared their secrets with him. Bran knew of war and love and loss. The trees called to him and he could see when and where he wished now. He did not need to sit on a throne under the earth to see. He wanted to leave and to be with his family, to go to Winterfell with Rickon and see Arya when she returned but he couldn't. It was not safe. The dead things still waited outside the cave.
Jon knew some of the secrets now. Bran saw Howland Reed tell him of his birth and he saw Lady Maege tell him of the Will. He tried to tell Jon in his own way but Jon did not understand. The raven was a nuisance to Jon and he often wanted to be rid of it. He would not listen to Bran when he spoke through the raven. Instead Bran settled for seeing Jon through the raven.
Arya was different. Bran did not know it straight away. It took him time to track her as she travelled through Westeros. When he slipped into the raven he saw her. He knew from Winterfell that something had happened to her. He saw it and heard others speak of it. It was even more obvious when he watched her speaking of war. Watching however was not the end of it.
Bran felt it the moment she skinchanged into the raven. Arya did not know what she had done. The connection was instant. Bran had been the broken boy and he thought he knew despair. He was wrong. When he felt Arya he thought her despair would drown him. Her grief and hate was beyond anything he could imagine. He thanked the gods she had only been in the raven an instant and not at the same time as him. It was not like Hodor, her presence was strong and threatened to overwhelm him so that her emotions overtook his own.
He feared Lord Brynden would know but he did not seem to. Bran stayed away from Arya for days afterwards, frightened of what might become of him if he got too close. He almost missed the danger. If he had not seen the dead knight through the trees he might have been too late. He felt her spike of fear and unlike Jon, Arya understood his message. He watched her as she was carried from the battle and he watched over her while she was unconscious.
It was then that he realised the connection went both ways. He felt Arya, she was temporarily broken but she would be strong again. He heard Arya and it brought tears to his eyes because she heard him too.
"Bran" she whispered. "I don't understand."
"You will" he replied, certain that she would.
Bran was not so alone any more. Arya was like him and finally, finally he felt he had his family again.
A/N 2: Thanks goes to Donewithwoodenteeth for messaging me about skinchanging. I was always going to incorporate it in this chapter but her messages sparked ideas which helped my vague notions evolve into something more. If anybody ever wants to ask me about the story don't be afraid to message me via here or tumblr.