Love Speaks Louder Than Words

by Amara Lightskipper

Bran's life seemed to be in order, until he met someone who changed it: Meera. But things turn upside down when they found out that their families were on two opposing sides of a conflict that happened years ago that still remains unresolved. How far will they go for love? Will their love open their families' eyes to seek forgiveness and move on?

7. Spilling The Tea

BRAN

Saturday night and Bran arrived home just ten minutes before midnight to his brothers and sisters in the game room playing videogames.

Bran entered Stark Manor and it was deserted. Suddenly, he heard faint barking. That's when Bran took off Summer's leash harness, which made his dog ran up the grand staircase.

"Summer, what—?" He started to say, before running after him.

He caught up to Summer's paws tapping the glass windows of the game room.

"Oh my gods," Bran could hear the muffled voice of his sister, Sansa's. "It's Summer."

"Then Bran's here." Robb squealed.

Bran opened the glass door, carrying the box of donuts and the bag of chicken. "Hello, fam."

Robb and Sansa were on the corner couch, drinking canned sodas. Arya and Jon were on the carpeted floor, tending to the dogs, while Rickon and Theon were each holding a shotgun rifle videogame controller and focused on their game on the 95-inch large flatscreen. The flatscreen displayed each player's point-of-view in split-screen. And all of them were in their pajamas.

Bran assumed they were only there to humor their youngest brother, Rickon as it was he who used to ask them to play with him when they were kids.

"Bran!" They all exclaimed.

Sansa came to hug him. "Finally, it took you forever."

"Li'l bro," Robb grinned. "It's been a long time."

"Robb, we met last week." Bran reminded him.

Jon gave him a fist bump. "I knew you're gonna find a girlfriend when we meet again."

"Hey, Bran," Arya called. "Did you bring food?"

Jon raised an eyebrow at Arya. "Is food all you care about at this point?"

Arya shrugged as she snatched the box of donuts from him. "He was on a date with Meera before coming here," She turned to him. "Right?"

"Um, yes." He replied.

Rickon turned to them. "Hey, what kind of food did you bring?" He asked.

"Gotcha, Ricky!" Theon chuckled. "Now, die!" He then aimed the shotgun rifle controller on the flatscreen, killing Rickon's character.

"NOOOO!" Rickon cried, dropping the shotgun rifle controller to the floor. "Fuck!"

On Rickon's side of the split-screen, it displayed Game Over.

Rickon then sat on the couch between Robb and Sansa, pouting. His dog, Shaggy had then jumped to his lap.

"Relax, baby bro," Robb assured. "It's only a game."

"I know that," Rickon said. "But I got distracted by food."

"And I used that to my advantage." Theon grinned. "Thank the gods for food."

Bran huffed. "Well, might as well eat, Rickon." He said, holding up the food he brought. "I have donuts and chicken."

"Ooh, I'll have the chicken," Rickon said as he opened the brown paper bag and grabbed a piece. "Where did you buy this?" He asked before taking a bite. "Hmm, it's good. But it's definitely not from the High Marshal or the CARNEval."

"It isn't," Bran confirmed. "Because I cooked that myself."

Everyone knitted their eyebrows at him.

Robb reached out his hand into the bag. "I'm having some of that."

Everyone else took a piece of the chicken, which Bran had sliced earlier before he packed it. All except Arya, who's happily munching on the donuts.

"Oh my gods," Sansa yelped. "It actually tastes good."

"Since when did you start cooking, Bran?" Theon asked.

"Whoa," Arya stood from her spot on the floor, still holding the box of donuts. "Between the four of you boys, Bran's always the one in the kitchen helping Mom and the staff." She said. "And Jon does the same in Uncle Benjen's kitchen."

"Yeah," Bran said, nodding at Arya. "Thanks, sis."

Theon shrugged. "Hmm, point taken."

Robb wrapped his arm around Bran's shoulder. "Hey, Bran," He said. "Maybe you can cook for me and Talisa next time."

"I'm getting paid, right?" He mockingly asked.

"Couldn't you do it as a favor to me?"

"Seven hells, no," Bran said, shaking his brother's arm off. "I have other stuff to do, and you want me to be your personal chef? Just ask Gage to cook for you."

"He has a point." Jon agreed.

Robb frowned at Jon. "What would you have done?"

Jon shrugged. "If it's a dinner date between me and Ygritte, I'd cook it myself." He said. "That way, I can save money in terms of labor, ambiance, and tips."

"Yes," Bran nodded. "Exactly what I'm thinking. And Meera finds it efficient as well."

Robb's eyes widened. "Ooh, so you were on a date with Meera before coming here?"

Bran could feel himself turning red from embarrassment.

"Duh!" Arya spoke up. "Why do you think he'd cook a whole chicken?"

Robb and Theon gave each other high fives.

"Aww," Sansa sighed giddily. "That's so sweet. And not many guys can actually cook, so that's a plus."

Theon leaned closer to him. "Did you sleep with her after?"

Both Robb and Jon hit him. Sansa threw one of the cushion pillows at him.

"What?" Theon asked, raising his hand in surrender. "It took him a while to get here. I assume they did something else besides eating dinner." He wiggled his eyes at him.

"We only watched a movie." Bran lied.

"Is that your code for sex?" Rickon asked in between bites.

"What—no!" He protested. "I—why does everybody think that?"

Bran is a terrible liar, and he knew it. He was just hoping everyone will buy his excuse. "We literally just ate dinner and watched a movie." He said. "Nothing else."

Jon frowned at him. "How long was the movie?"

He sighed. "Two hours and twelve minutes."

Arya cleared her throat. "Um, why are we even talking about this?" She asked. "Can I please just eat these donuts in peace? Thank you."

Robb snatched the box of donuts from Arya. "That's enough, donuts, baby sis."

"Hey," Arya complained, then stood and tried to get back the box from Robb. "Give me back my fucking donuts!"

At first, they just laughed it off. But when Arya started climbing onto Robb's back, they had to get involved.

It's also the time, their Mom happened to walk in on them, trying to get Arya off of Robb.

Their Mom, Catelyn walked into the game room in her sleeping robes with her auburn hair down.

"Kids, it's midnight!" Catelyn scolded. "And you're all still here?"

Bran stepped forward. "Mom, I can explain."

"Brandon," Catelyn smiled as she hugged him. "You'll explain tomorrow." She turned to the others. "All of you, off to bed. Now!"

"But Mom—" Robb started to say.

"No buts, Robb." Their Mom interrupted. "It doesn't matter if it's the weekend. Tomorrow is Rickon's graduation and all of you need to get up at six."

Jon and Theon turned off the game and put away the consoles. Arya snatched back the box of donuts from Robb before heading out the game room with Nymeria. Sansa followed after her with Lady on her tail.

Catelyn noticed Rickon was holding a paper bag. "Rickon, what is that?" She asked.

Rickon showed it to her. "Chicken."

Catelyn turned to the older boys. "Did you boys ordered food again?" She demanded. "What did we tell you about ordering food when it's past midnight?"

"We didn't order food, Aunt Cat," Jon answered. "Bran brought it with him when he arrived."

"And he didn't order take-out, Mom." Robb pointed out. "He was cooking."

Their Mom turned to him curiously.

"It's a long story, Mommy." Bran forced out a smile.

Catelyn sighed. "Just go to bed, all of you." She said again. "You need to wake up at six so we can leave at seven-thirty."

"But Mom, isn't that too early?" Rickon complained.

"Rickon, the program starts at eight." Catelyn reminded. "So we need to be there earlier."

Rickon huffed.

"Just wait 'till you're in college, Ricky boy." Theon snorted. "You'll probably dread morning classes."

"Theon!" Catelyn scolded.

"Sorry, Aunt Cat." Theon apologized.

"Now, go!" Catelyn said. "Chop-chop!"

Bran hugged his Mom. "Goodnight, Mom."

Catelyn kissed his forehead. "Goodnight, Bran."

They all headed out followed by their dogs.

As Bran laid on his bed, it took him a while to get to sleep. Mostly, because he's still processing everything that happened that night. The time he spent with Meera, well, it's something he hadn't done before. And he loved every second he spent with her.

The following morning, Bran woke up to being hit by a pillow to his face.

"Wakey, wakey, little brother!" Arya said, repeatedly hitting him with a pillow. "Get the fuck up!"

"I'm up!" Bran said as he sat up.

"Good," Arya smirked. "Now, I'm gonna do this to Rickon." She said as she went out of the room.

Bran went to the bathroom to freshen up, got dressed before going to the dining hall for breakfast. His sisters still weren't there.

His brothers were seated by the dining table eating breakfast with their parents. Their Dad Ned was at the head of the table, on his right sat their Mom, Catelyn. Beside Catelyn was an empty seat, which belonged to Sansa, and then there's Rickon and Theon. Across them, on their Dad's left was Robb, next to his brother was Arya's seat. Next to his sister's was Bran's seat, and then Jon.

"Good morning, Bran," Their Mom said. "Now, come eat your breakfast."

He sat next to Jon and across Rickon, who was still sleepy. Their youngest brother's eyes were droopy and he had his chin on the palm of his hand on the table.

Catelyn reached out and swatted Rickon's arm, making him instantly wake up.

"Don't lean your elbows on the table." Catelyn scolded.

Rickon huffed. "I wanna go back to sleep."

Their Dad, Ned leaned forward. "Rickon, what time did you sleep last night?"

"I don't know," Rickon answered groggily. "3am, I think."

Everyone snorted.

Robb shook his head in disbelief. "Well, that explains it."

Bran looked around and noticed his sisters weren't eating on the table with them. "Where's Arya and Sansa?" He asked.

"Oh, you know girls," Theon replied. "They're probably still doing their make-up or picking out an outfit or some other girly stuff."

Arya suddenly came sprinting towards the dining hall and took her seat between Bran and Robb. "I don't even wear make-up, Theon." She argued. "I was drying my hair. If we lived in the south, I would leave it to dry by itself. But we're in the North, it's much colder here and it'll turn into a hairsicle."

"Where's your sister?" Their Dad asked.

"In her room, probably styling her hair?" Arya shrugged. "Honestly, Daddy, I don't know."

A minute past and Sansa entered the dining hall.

"I'm here," Sansa announced as she took her seat and turned to their Mom. "Mom, after the program can we stop at PearlMart?" She asked. "I ran out of keratin hairspray."

"You can go there by yourself, sis." Robb pointed out.

"I know," Sansa replied. "But I won't be driving my car, we're using the van to get to TSA."

Catelyn turned to their other sister Arya across the table. "Arya, can you lend your sister—?"

"NO!" Arya interrupted. "Seven hells, no!"

"Arya," Catelyn called in a warning tone.

"It's okay, Mom." Sansa took a deep breath. "I've fully accepted the fact that Arya hadn't quite grasped the concept of sharing."

Arya snorted. "It's not my fault you miscalculated," She snapped. "You should've bought a dozen."

"Girls!" Their Dad scolded. "Not now, okay? It's early in the morning and you're both having a catfight. And you're fighting over a can of hairspray!"

Catelyn huffed. "Can we just eat our breakfast in peace?"

And they did, though it wasn't unusual for that to happen. There's a reason Arya and Sansa were separated when seated at their dining table—and it's to avoid bloodshed. They tend to argue over the tiniest things, even a can of hairspray.

They went to Torrhen Stark Academy afterwards for Rickon's commencement rights.

Most of Rickon's awards were in the sports he joined: football and ice hockey. In his academics, Bran used to tutor Rickon. But when he went to college in White Harbor, the tutoring duties went to Sansa.

. . .

After the ceremony, his parents hosted lunch.

"Congratulations again, baby brother," Robb said. "Now, you gotta brace yourself for college life."

"Yeah," Theon agreed. "It'll be fun. And you'll have lots of time to explore stuff. But, of course, you should not forget your studies."

Rickon turned to Theon. "Explore what?" He asked.

"Oh, you know," Theon said. "Frat parties, free drinks, girls—" He stopped talking when he noticed everyone was glaring at him. "What?"

"Dude," Jon made a tsk sound. "You're not helping at all."

"Uh, Rickon," Sansa spoke up. "What Theon meant is, that you'll explore a lot of opportunities."

"Yeah," Robb agreed. "Like making new friends by joining a club or an org."

"Or an activist group." Arya pointed out.

"Or the football team." Theon added.

Rickon beamed. "I know." He said. "And I get to live at the penthouse alone."

Their Mom, Catelyn cleared her throat. "No, you won't be alone." She explained. "Your father and I have talked about it. Bran will be reviewing for the boards after his graduation, so we decided that he'll stay in White Harbor to watch over you."

Of course, Bran thought. Their youngest brother is literally a force to be reckoned with. That's why their staff dubbed him, the Wild Wolf in the family. Plus, Bran never complained as he would have another reason to stay in White Harbor other than seeing Meera.

Rickon seemed to like the idea, and he was more excited than annoyed. "Nice!" He squealed. "That way I'll have a tutor to help me with school stuff." He turned to Bran across the table. "And you'll get to keep seeing Meera too."

At the mention of Meera's name, Bran's eyes widened. Both his sisters exchanged nervous glances. Robb, Jon and, Theon exchanged smirks but didn't say anything. Only his parents looked confused.

Their Dad, Ned turned to him. "Who is this Meera?" He asked.

But before any of them could say anything, Rickon blurted out. "Bran's girlfriend!" Then he looked down. "Oh, sorry."

His brothers and sisters all snickered.

"That came out of nowhere," Arya said.

Catelyn smiled. "Brandon, since when did you have a girlfriend?"

Bran could feel himself blushing. "Uh…" He faltered.

"You should invite her over," Ned offered. "Introduce her to the family. That way, we'd get to know her better."

"Nice!" Arya beamed. "Don't worry, Daddy. You'll like her."

Ned frowned at Arya. "You've met her already?"

Arya shrugged. "Yeah, like last Friday."

Catelyn turned to Sansa. "Is that why you went with Arya in White Harbor?"

"Nope, I went because I was bored." Sansa said.

Arya glared at their sister before turning to her parents. "No, I handed my registration fee to Jorelle. We're attending a seminar in Harrenhal in two weeks."

Ned nodded. "Oh, that's good," He said. "That way, you can achieve the required CPD points within one cycle." Then knitted his eyebrows. "Who is Jorelle again?"

"Mormont, Dad," Robb pointed out. "Maege Mormont's daughter, the fourth one."

Catelyn cleared her throat. "Arya, you could've just told Bran to hand Jorelle the registration fee," She suggested. "So you didn't have to go to White Harbor."

"Well, uh," Arya said. "I had to fill up some papers as well."

"Hey," Rickon spoke up. "Didn't you and Sansa—"

Sansa interrupted by stuffing garlic bread into Rickon's mouth. "You talk too much, baby brother." She said. "Just eat."

"Hmm, this is good," Rickon said with a mouthful of garlic bread. "But didn't you run into Bran and Meera while eating at the CARNEval?"

Here we go, Bran thought. Rickon tended to reveal things that were supposed to be a secret, most of the time. Right then, he wanted to put duct tape on his younger brother's mouth to shut him up.

"Oh, yeah," Theon snickered. "She's pretty, by the way."

"And badass!" Jon added. "One of the few women in the archery team, I mean, that's a plus."

"So you've all met her?" Ned asked.

All of Bran's brothers shook their heads.

"No, Dad," Robb said. "Just the girls."

"Sansa shared a pic of her in our group chat." Rickon blurted out.

Now, Bran wanted to put foam sealant in Rickon's mouth rather than duct tape.

"Rickon," Bran gritted his teeth. "When will you ever shut up?"

Rickon shrugged. "What?"

"You've always wondered why we never tell you anything," Arya said. "And this is why."

"Anyways, Dad," Robb said, then pulled out his phone. He made a few swipes on it before showing it to their father. "There's the pic Sansa sent us."

Ned took the phone from Robb to take a closer look at it with their Mom.

"Ooh, she is pretty," Catelyn remarked as she squinted on the phone's screen. "And you brought Summer with you on your date?"

"Mom," Sansa spoke up. "It's the CARNEval. Ever since we got the dogs, Uncle Edmure made every chain TFC owned pet-friendly. That goes for The Burger Lab too, remember?" She reminded her.

"And we were there too, Mom," Arya added. "With Lady and Nymeria."

"I know that," Catelyn said. "But taking your dog on a date? Bran, was she okay with that?"

"She was totally fine with it." Bran explained. "She actually loved having Summer around and even insisted on holding his leash while we walked towards the CARNEval."

"Walked?" Ned raised an eyebrow at him. "You didn't ride your car?"

Bran shrugged. "Well, no." He said. "We sort of, have the same mindset. She also has a car, but she usually just walks to get to places because it'll save her gas money."

"Ooh, I like her already," Robb said. "Not the typical I-want-this, I-want-that kind of girl. You've hit the jackpot, little brother."

Arya snorted. "You should take after Bran when it comes to picking out girls who are whole packages, Robb." She said. "And somewhat of a sister-by-law-material."

Robb cleared his throat. "Um, hello, baby sis?" He said. "I'm getting married within the year." He reminded her. "And I thought you said Talisa was a sister-by-law-material."

"She is," Arya agreed. "But she's like, what? Your tenth girlfriend? Ninth? And don't worry, I like Talisa."

"Fifth," Robb corrected. "And why does this matter?"

"Dude, I agree with your sister," Theon spoke up. "Because the first time, you'd never looked past the appearance."

"Okay, I get it." Robb snapped. "Geez. But I'm still glad Bran finally has a girlfriend."

"She's not my girlfriend!" Bran countered.

"Yet!" Robb, Jon, and Theon said in unison. "Ooh!" They chuckled and then gave each other air high fives because they sat too far apart.

. . .

That afternoon, their Mom came to see Bran in his room. And he did not expect it, at all. He was merely brushing off Summer's fur when the knock came and his mother entered the room.

"Hey, Mommy," Bran greeted.

When he saw that his Mom bought him a tray with a plate of cookies and a cup of hot chocolate, that's when he knew. It had been a thing she does when she wanted to talk to him, alone.

"I brought you cookies," Catelyn said as she placed the tray on his nightstand. "And hot chocolate to wash it down."

Bran took one cookie and took a bite. "Thanks, Mom."

Catelyn sat next to him, "So, I'd like to know more about this girl, Meera."

He took a deep breath. "Okay, um, don't freak out," He warned. "But she's actually a few years older than me."

"I know age doesn't matter but, how old are we talking about?"

"Not much," He promised. "She's just about Robb's age, just a few months younger. Well, younger than Robb, but older than Sansa."

"Oh, I would assume she has a job already." She said.

"Yes, she's a journalist in The Northern Herald," He explained. "That's how I met her. Remember that article on my win with Water as Fuel? She was the one who wrote it."

"How did you get to the dating phase?" She asked. "I'm curious about how you asked out a journalist."

Bran recalled and told his Mom what happened, that he asked Meera out to a Poetry Slam in Starkgrand Coffee and watched a movie with her. He told his Mom everything between him and Meera, but of course, leaving out the explicit details and the illegal picking of winter roses in the conservatory.

"She seems like a wonderful person," Catelyn stated. "I would love to meet her personally." She then gave him a side hug. "Aww, I can't believe my little Bran is already in love."

Bran could feel himself turning red. "Mom!" He complained.

"Oh, it's nothing to be ashamed of." She assured. "It's normal in people your age. And I have a very good feeling about her too."

"Really?" He asked, surprised.

"Your sisters both seem to like her." Catelyn pointed out. "And those two agreeing on something rarely ever happens. And I always see it as a good sign."

Right, he thought. He remembered how Arya and Sansa put aside their differences and stole a dozen winter roses from the conservatory for him to give to Meera. And their Mom considered it as a good sign.

Bran showed his Mom another pic of Meera while they were eating dinner by the pool in their penthouse from his phone.

"I'm just lucky that she didn't go home to Greywater yesterday." He recalled. "Or that whole thing wouldn't have been possible."

Catelyn frowned. "Greywater?"

"Greywater Watch," He informed. "You know, that town in the Neck. that's Meera's hometown."

His Mom suddenly had a worried expression, which Bran did not understand.

"Well, that would explain her green eyes," Catelyn said. "It's common among descendants of Crannogmen to have green eyes." She cleared her throat. "And what's her family name?"

"Reed." He answered. "You've heard about that berries plantation in the Neck, right, Mom? Their family owns that. It's where the TFC get their berries too, right? And they supply berries all across Westeros."

Catelyn's worried expression deepened, then she smiled as if nothing happened. "Well, anyway," She said looking back at the pic on his phone. "How did you manage to pull this off at the penthouse?"

"Well, most of them were things Arya and Sansa had left before moving out after graduating." He explained. "Sansa left some scented candles, and Arya left some of those unusual candleholders and those DIY yarn balls."

"And what table did you use for this?"

"It's the coffee table in the cabana." He informed. "I just had to move the couch out of there to make room."

"Hmm, this is an A+ for effort," His Mom approved. "But you shouldn't spoil her too much. Those were Robb and Jon's mistakes with their past girlfriends."

"I know, Mom," Bran said. "Meera said the same thing. She even said we could've just eaten in the dining hall. And she loved the food, by the way."

Catelyn nodded. "Oh, yes, the chicken," She recalled. "I took the bag from your brother last night. I tasted it and it is good."

Bran shrugged. "Well, I learned from the best." He said. "All those times I watched and helped you cook in the kitchen paid off."

His Mom chuckled, then booped his nose. "Look how far you've come." She said before standing up, picking up the tray and putting the plate of cookies and cup of hot chocolate on his nightstand. "Well, I better get going. Your Dad said something about discussing on how to deal with Rickon being away from us unsupervised."

Bran chuckled. "Okay, Mom," He said. "And don't worry, you can trust me with Rickon."

Catelyn kissed his forehead. "I'll see you at dinner." She then left his room, leaving him alone with Summer.

That same night after dinner, Bran drove back to White Harbor. But on his Mom's insistence, Summer wasn't allowed to go back with him so Bran left his dog in the care of his sister, Arya while he was gone.

Bran arrived in the penthouse at around ten at night. He sent a few text messages to Meera before dozing off.

The following morning he woke up to Beren pounding on his door.

"Stark!" Beren called out. "It's an hour to grad rehearsals! We need to be on campus by eight."

Bran glanced at the digital clock on his nightstand. 07:03, it read.

"Oh, shit!" He cussed as he quickly got up. "It's seven! Why didn't you wake me up?"

Bran had fallen asleep amidst texting Meera that he forgot to set an alarm for the following day. And since Summer wasn't there with him, Bran didn't have anyone else waking him up. In the last week, Summer had been his alarm clock. His dog would just lick his face and walk all over him on the bed.

"Dude?" Beren said, knocking again. "Are you alright? I thought you're already up."

"I'll be down in fifteen."

He took the quickest possible shower, then got dressed before heading downstairs for breakfast.

Beren was sitting by the kitchen's island counter, eating pizza. When Bran got there, he looked around like he was looking for someone. "Where's Summer?" He asked.

"Oh, my Mom didn't allow me to take him."

"Damn!" Beren said, taking a slice of pizza from the plate. "I was starting to warm up to him. Oh, I didn't cook, by the way. I just reheated these pizzas in the microwave."

Bran sat down across from him. "So you ordered pizza and reheated it?"

"I didn't order them," Beren explained. "My cousin, Eddara ordered like three dozens for the entire clan, so I took four boxes with me last night and put it in the fridge. Now, I reheated two pizzas."

Bran nodded. "What time did you arrive last night?"

Beren shrugged. "I don't know, I think around eleven, almost to midnight." He said. "By the way, I can't find the hot sauce. Where is it?"

"I got it," Bran said, then placed it on the counter.

"Oh, thank the gods." Beren said, then poured some on his slice of pizza. And just as he took one bite, his eyes widened. "Fuck!" He cursed, dropping the pizza back to the plate, ran to the fridge and drank milk from the carton.

"Dude, are you okay?" Bran asked.

"I like hot sauce," Beren said. "But that is not the typical hot sauce, man. And it's still burning in my mouth." He drank more milk. "What is that made from?"

Bran read the bottle's label. "Minisa's God's Eye Reaper Hot Sauce."

The God's Eye Reapers are the hottest peppers in all of Westeros. It's called such because they first grew near the God's Eye Lake in the Riverlands. And the bottle that Bran had was processed from factories of Minisa Foods and Beverages of the Tully Foods Corp.

"Are you trying to fucking kill me?" Beren said, after finishing the carton of milk. "I cannot handle God's Eye Reapers."

"Sorry," He apologized. "I think there's still some Dornish Tabasco in there as well."

"That, I can handle." Beren confirmed before taking it from the cupboard.

Beren's reaction was of a typical Northerner, as his Mom would say. According to her who's of the Riverlands, Northerners are not into spicy stuff. And the hot sauce bottle itself that they had was the one their Mom brought from when she visited her family in Riverrun.

In their family, they are divided among those who liked the spicy stuff. Besides their Mom, there was Arya, Rickon and Bran himself, and even Theon. The others: Robb, Jon, Sansa and together with their Dad can't even stand a single drop of ordinary hot sauce.

Beren poured Tabasco sauce into his pizza and bit into it. "Hmm, that's better." He said. "It's better than the sweet sauce my brother likes to put in his pizzas."

"Speaking of your brother," Bran spoke up. "How was it meeting his girlfriend?"

"Oh, about that," Beren said. "You're right, she's a general's daughter or something. And she's a Mormont."

Bran raised an eyebrow. "There are two Mormont men in the military and they don't have daughters." He informed. "I think you mean she's a general's niece or…cousin. And it's Dacey Mormont, right?"

"Right, how did you know?" Beren asked.

"There are currently only six Mormont women," Bran explained. "The general's sister, Maege Mormont and she has five daughters. The eldest, Dacey, joined the military; the second-born, Alysane, works alongside their Mom in the electric company. The three youngest are currently in White Harbor. The third-born, Lyra is a journalist in The Northern Herald—I would know because she's Meera's colleague; the fourth-born, Jorelle works in the north office of Stormbreaker Telecom; and the youngest, Lyanna, is studying law in UWH and is graduating with us."

Beren nodded. "Wow, your family does have a lot of connections."

"Scary, I know." He confirmed.

"Anyways," Beren's smirk returned. "How did it go with Meera last Saturday?" He wiggled his eyebrows.

"Uh, it went great." Bran forced out a smile.

"Hmm, right," Beren teased. "Dude, I counted the contents in that box before I left, and I counted it again this morning. And it's missing one! That means—!"

"Wait!" He interrupted. "Don't say it."

"So, you up for tequilas tonight?" Beren beamed. "It's my treat."

"No!" Bran disagreed. "I don't give a fuck about free tequilas. And it's Monday." He reminded him.

Beren shrugged. "So?"

"You can't be drunk on Monday." He insisted. "And besides, didn't you said once that a single shot of tequila costs two gold dragons? And aren't you merely relying on drinking tequila when it's on someone else's tab or if it's in the Old Mint?"

Beren made a face. "Oh, right." He said. "But there are alternatives to drinking tequila."

"Dude, no!" Bran argued. "Just wait until we get up on that stage and get our diplomas. After that, you can drink all the fucking shots of tequila that you can."

Beren sighed. "Fine."

Beren always reminded Bran of his younger brother, Rickon. He liked to do things without thinking about the consequences that will happen after. Except, he didn't have ADHD. In other words, he's reckless.

"By the way, you're driving to school today, right?" Beren asked.

"Uh, yes." He replied. "Because I'll be late if I'll walk."

"Good, because I'm hitching the ride with you." Beren declared. "My car's gasket got blown last night just as I got into White Harbor, so I had it towed to a shop. But don't worry, I'm not hitching the ride back here because I know you're still gonna see Meera, right?"

"Well, yes—" He started to say.

"Ooh!" Beren clapped his hands. "You know, there are still some left in that box. You can take some."

"Seriously?" Bran snapped. "Not tonight. Especially if we're in the same flat as her brother's."

"Right, of course," Beren agreed. "That would be awkward."

. . .

They arrived at the UWH auditorium just in time for grad rehearsals as the graduating students were sorted and arranged alphabetically for the march and their assigned seats, regardless of which degree program they came from and if whether they had the Latin honors or not.

The UWH graduation committee had started decorating the stage for the event this weekend.

The auditorium's seats were arranged in rows of ten, and Bran's seat was on the eighth of the sixth row on the right side facing the stage.

Bran was quite familiar with the other people in their row. And yes, he was in the same row as Lyanna Mormont; his roommate, Beren Tallhart and even Meera's brother, Jojen Reed.

Most of the people in their row were Northerners, with a mix of one Riverman or a person from the Riverlands. It was quite typical that most Rivermen prefer going to college North—Bran's Mom, Catelyn, and Uncle Edmure graduated in UWH—partly because it was less crowded and White Harbor isn't as densely populated as Harrenhal in the Riverlands, Gulltown in the Vale, Lannisport in the Westerlands, Oldtown in the Reach or King's Landing in the Crownlands; Other Rivermen families who prefer sending their children to study college in White Harbor are the Freys, Blackwoods, Brackens, and Pipers.

White Harbor also had the cheaper tuitions/quality education benefits and it embraces diversity than most Westerosi trade cities—several people from Essos or the Summer Isles prefer to settle in White Harbor because their weird culture and practices weren't looked down upon, but respected.

Bran had a few friends who are foreign exchange students from different parts of the world. There was Xhondo Dhoru, a senior Summer Islander whom he had sat next to during his sophomore year—he remembered him specifically because he always spoke in the third person like he was narrating a story starring himself; then there was Denyo Terys, a Braavosi exchange student who was in the same math class as Bran was, whom he tutored in solving shear and moment diagrams; and there's Lysono Maar, whom Bran was assigned to do a midterm project in a mandatory course, he was a Lysene scholar of the Triumvirate Dragons Inc.—a conglomerate company based in Pentos in the United Free Cities.

Since Bran was on the eighth seat, he was too far away from the central aisle. The one close to the aisle on the first seat was Clatton Marsh, and judging by his last name Bran assumed he was of Crannogmen descent from Greywater Watch, the town in the Neck. Second on the row, was Lyanna Mormont, and then Brandon Norrey. He remembered that the family name, Norrey is one of the mountains clans who once settled on the Kings of Winter—the Northern mountain range—but are now living in the nearby a city/town, either in Deepwood Motte, Highpoint or Ironrath. Next was Lewys Piper of Pinkmaiden in the Riverlands, and Bran had also known that his older brother, Marq works for his Uncle Edmure in the Tully Foods Corp or commonly known as TFC.

On the fifth seat was Jojen Reed, Meera's younger brother; and then Roose Ryswell, who's family business is manufacturing glass, the 79 Sentinels in the Rills. The one on Bran's left was a Skagosi from the town of Driftwood, Carron Stane; then there's Bran himself on the eighth seat. On his right was Ronnel Stout from the town of Goldgrass east of Barrowton. On the last seat was Beren Tallhart.

After their lunch break, they were asked to return to the auditorium by 1pm. And as they waited, Bran decided to approach Jojen on his plan of surprising Meera at work.

Jojen was sitting at the bottom of a tree on the quad in front of the UWH auditorium. And he was eating a bag of banana chips while reading a Nat Geo magazine.

"Jojen," He called.

Jojen looked up from his magazine. "Oh, hey, Bran," He acknowledged, adjusting his eyeglasses. "What's up?" He offered the pack of banana chips on his hand. "Banana chips?"

"Um, no, I'm good." Bran cleared his throat. "So, your sister invited me to your place for dinner tonight." He brought up.

"Oh, yeah," Jojen nodded. "She mentioned that around fifty times, I believe. What about it?" He asked.

"Well, I'm planning on picking her up from work." He suggested. "And you can hitch the ride if you want."

"Are you sure?" Jojen asked. "I'm not gonna be interrupting you guys or anything?"

"Oh, no, it's fine." He assured.

Jojen shrugged. "Cool, thanks."

"By the way," Bran said. "Meera didn't drive to work today, did she?"

Jojen shook his head. "Nope, she never drives to work on Mondays, because it's when traffic congestion is at its worst." Then he frowned. "Wait, does she know you're picking her up?"

"Actually, no," He admitted. "It's going to be a surprise."

"Oh, okay." Jojen nodded. "I'll stay in the backseat then."

Suddenly, Bran felt someone poking his arm. "Hey, Stark." A female voice called.

He turned and saw Lyanna Mormont with an expanded envelope and a piece of bond paper in her hands, which she handed to him.

"Um, Lya, wha—what are these?" He asked as he took them.

"Okay, so," Lyanna started to say. "Remember when you didn't show up last Friday because you were on something important regarding your sisters and you asked me to write your name on the attendance sheet? Turns out Professor Bartimus distributed the program sheets for the graduation rites." She explained. "That paper, he says you need to fill it up and hand it to the registrar before Wednesday."

He nodded. "Thanks, Mormont."

"Oh, by the way," Lyanna added. "He also remarked that because you're the only one who got the highest distinction, you are to prepare a speech for the assembly."

Hearing it, it's as if the blood drained from his body. "WHAT?" Bran shrieked. "But—but I'm terrible at public speaking!"

"Don't rant on me," She countered. "I'm only telling you what Professor Bartimus told me to tell you. If you want to voice out your complaints, go directly to him."

Bran hated public speaking. And when he does, he'll usually stutter and sweat. Sure, his Dad is Governor of the North region, but unfortunately, he got none of his Dad's good public speaking ability.

Among his siblings, Bran can point at Robb, mostly, because he was the diplomat among them. And Bran thought his parents chose Robb to take over as CEO of Stark Industries, not because of him being a lawyer by profession or the eldest son, but of his good communication skills. He'll likely volunteer to do such public speeches. Much like when they were younger and they did something bad, they'd all push Robb to do the explaining to their parents. His response was like: You want me to talk to them? Okay.

Jon was the quiet one that you'll mostly forget that he's still in the same room as you. He's very observant and he's usually the first one to figure out if something's wrong. But he's still good with people, unlike Bran—a shy and socially awkward person. Theon was the talkative one, but when you place him in front of a large audience, he'll shrink and hide. Sansa also has good communication skills. She's basically like a female version of Robb.

Arya is loud and very opinionated and swears a lot. She was part of activist groups when they were in college and pretty much said whatever she wanted to say to the point of not caring if it got her in trouble. Back in Ramsay Bolton's trial, where they charged him with trespassing into Stark Manor; an attempted rape of their sister Sansa; aggravated assault with a deadly weapon (he had a gun); and two counts of frustrated homicide on Robb and Theon—to which Ramsay pleaded not guilty to his crimes, Arya flew into a rage. And when the judge threatened to hold her in contempt, she told him to fuck off and got out of the courtroom. It was funny, brave and stupid at the same time.

And Rickon, he's also loud and talkative that he unintentionally revealed stuff that he's not meant to. But since he's ADHD, they'd all just be careful what to say around him.

"This is ridiculous," Bran said in frustration.

"Don't worry," Lyanna assured. "I'm pretty sure you can write a piece and—"

"Oh, sure," He replied. "I can write a piece just fine. But reading it to like, hundreds of people is a whole different story."

Lyanna snorted. "Well, you better start getting used to it." She said. "You're one of the governor's sons after all."

"I am not my Dad, okay?" He countered. "Or my brothers."

Before Lyanna can reply, a passerby patted Jojen on his shoulder.

"Reed!" One guy said. "Thanks for helping us in grafting."

Jojen shrugged. "No problem."

Lyanna frowned at Jojen. "Reed?" Then she gasped. "Oh, wait—you're Meera's brother!" She snapped her fingers. "Um—?"

"Jojen," Jojen introduced himself.

"Right," She said. "And I'm—"

"Oh, I know who you are." Jojen interrupted. "You're one of the Mormont girls. And my sister is your sister's colleague."

"Yes," She nodded. "I'm sorry, I'm just really terrible with names."

Bran chuckled. "Hey, you're going to be a lawyer soon." He pointed out. "Worst-case scenario if you forget your client's name in the middle of a court hearing."

"Shut it, Stark!" Lyanna snapped, then sighed. "Alright, I see what you did there. Point taken."

"Don't let it happen, though," Jojen said.

Lyanna raised an eyebrow at him. "I won't," She promised, then cleared her throat. "Anyways, your sister made a great catch with this one." She pointed at Bran. "His type is rare."

"Don't worry, Lya," Bran said. "One of these days, you'll find a boyfriend."

Lyanna glared at him. "Look, I've had enough of these from my sisters, I don't need it from you." She then turned to leave. "I'll see you guys around."

When Lyanna was out of earshot, Jojen spoke up. "Wow, and I thought Lyra was the grumpy one."

"Holy shit!" Bran laughed. "You know, my brother used to joke about that."

He spent the next fifteen minutes chatting with Jojen before they were called into the auditorium.

MEERA

Monday morning and Meera felt reinvigorated than usual, maybe because she was too excited to see Bran again.

She woke up earlier than usual and redid some of the things she had done in their spring cleaning the day before. Afterwards, she took a shower, got dressed and went to the kitchen.

Jojen got out of his room with a towel slung over his shoulder and heading towards the bathroom just as Meera was cooking their breakfast.

"Hey," She called.

"Good morning," Her brother replied groggily. "I still have to take a shower."

"I invited Bran for dinner tonight and—" She brought up.

"I know," Jojen interrupted. "You've been talking about him all weekend."

Before Meera can say anything, Jojen slammed the bathroom door shut.

Meera understood her brother's annoyance. She had been talking endlessly about Bran while they were doing the spring cleaning last Sunday that it's probably becoming annoying on his part. Despite all of that, Jojen had made it known that he liked Bran because they were similar in many ways.

She hadn't told their parents about Bran though. And she didn't know how they will take if they find out that Bran is actually younger than her. But she had good reasons and will stand her ground if she has to.

Halfway through cooking breakfast, Jojen got out of the bathroom and into his room. And just as she plated the food, her brother went for the dining table, waiting.

A minute later, Meera placed everything on the table, the cinnamon Myrish toasts and the blueberry oatmeal waffles.

"Here you go," She said as she placed the mugs of wild berries herbal tea on the table. "Bon appétit."

They prefer drinking tea in the mornings rather than coffee because it's caffeine-free, it can strengthen the immune system and can help reduce stress throughout the day.

"Thanks," Jojen said, holding his cup of tea to his mouth, then grumbled when the steam fogged up his glasses, prompting him to take them off as he sipped his tea. "Hmm, what kind of tea is this?" He asked.

"It's called Wildberries Fusion," She informed. "I couldn't find our usual flavor in PearlMart so I opted to that."

"It actually tastes better," He remarked. "I'll prefer drinking this from now on. Is this product from The Golden Rose, Minisa's or Redwyne's?"

"Minisa's," Meera confirmed.

Jojen wiped the moist off his glasses. "Oh, so it's produced in the Riverlands," He said as he put his glasses on. "I'm pretty sure they got the berries from us."

"Where do you think?" She shrugged. "We're the only supplier of berries in Westeros because they only grow in the Neck."

"For now," He said.

Meera frowned at her brother. "What do you mean?"

"Remember when Cley Cerwyn asked me to help them graft plants?" Jojen recalled as he sliced through the blueberry oatmeal waffles. "Well, those friends of his were taking the off-term thesis course. And one of their proposed titles was to solve soil erosion in Redfort in the Vale."

"What in the old gods has this got to do with berries?" She asked.

"I have a point, just hear me out." He promised. "Their solution was tree-planting."

Meera snorted. "Of course," She said, not surprised.

"Tree-planting projects are actually great." Jojen pointed out, fixing his glasses. "It creates oxygen, store water, house wildlife, etc. But the one flaw that organizers seem to miss is choosing the right species to plant. The most common is Mahogany. I mean, it can transform the soil until it becomes what it needs to be, but there's a huge consequence." He continued. "Think of it this way, if it's a person, it's a self-centered, me-before-anyone-else motherfucker. And it doesn't care what the others around it are feeling."

"Oh my gods," Meera snickered. "I think you just described my boss."

"They choke out other plants in the area and devoid wildlife." He explained. "Technically, you won't see moss on the ground or insects on its leaves or birds on its branches."

"It sounds depressing." She stated. "Do we have mahoganies near the plantation?"

"Not that we know of," He said, then took a bite from the waffles. "But if there is, I'm telling Dad to cut it off because they'll suck the nutrients out of the berries."

"Now that you mention it, I think they're probably better off as furniture."

"Hey, they're termite-resistant!" Jojen agreed. "Perfect wood furniture. But you know, I'm still putting several coats of wood varnish just to be sure. Anyways, Mahoganies grow best in places with warm climate so—"

"But Vale doesn't have a warm climate." She reminded him.

"I know, I pointed that out," He said. "So they just speculated on planting runner plants instead, mentioning the most common runner plant: strawberries."

"Uh, oh." Her eyes widened. "Strawberries growing on Redfort? Will that work?"

Jojen shook his head. "I can't say," He admitted. "They'll probably have to do some soil tests to prove that or if their soil has similar particles than that in Greywater—"

"Dude," She interrupted. "Would you please speak the Common tongue?"

Jojen took a deep breath. "Climate-wise, it's plausible." He said. "Both the North and the Vale have cold climates. But with slight differences: it's cold in the Vale because they're high up in the mountains; it's cold here in the North because of our geographical location."

Meera nodded as she finished her Myrish toasts. "Hmm, question. Does altitude affect plant growth?" She asked.

"Oh, definitely." He confirmed. "Plants tend to grow slower in higher elevation because the soil is not as fertile as the low-lying areas. And not all plants survive in high altitude—it's the same way you won't see a single pine tree on top of Brandon's Peak."

At that point, Meera had only realized that she underestimated her brother's love for plants. There's a lot more to it than meets the eye.

As Meera washed the dishes, Jojen did his morning routine of watering his potted plants and then placing them out the balcony for sunlight. And sometimes, she'll even catch Jojen talking to the plants like they were actual people. The first time she caught him, he was embarrassed and explained that talking to the plants help them grow. From then on, it became a normal occurrence and she didn't bother him when he did his thing.

Jojen had also labeled each potted plant that he had with wooden plant stake labels, complete with the plant's name and its scientific name.

Last Saturday, her brother had unwrapped the bouquet of winter roses Bran had given her. He cut off three roses—leaves, thorns, flower petals and all, and used the stems to replant them. And he had already placed a label on it: Winter Rose, then below it was the scientific name: Rosa caeruleum. That same day, she had then arranged the remaining winter roses into a bouquet centerpiece for the coffee table in the living room.

Afterwards, Meera walked to work. She never drove her car on Mondays because the streets are always busy and congested—except for last week where she delivered a copy of The Northern Herald to Bran in the Aquamarine because if she walked, it would take too long.

As she arrived at The Northern Herald, she clocked in and rode the elevator up. When she walked towards her cubicle, only then did she notice that she was earlier than usual.

Between her two colleagues, Gwyn and Lyra, she was never the first one to arrive.

A few minutes later, Gwyn arrived and frowned when she saw her.

"Hi," Meera greeted.

"You're earlier than usual." Gwyn noticed. "It's kinda weird…and suspicious."

"Suspicious? Really?" She asked. "You think I'm up to something?"

"I don't know, something's just different about you today," Gwyn said. "And I can't tell what."

Suddenly, Lyra popped up from her cubicle and leaned on the divider. "What up, neighbors!" She greeted with a grin.

"Good morning," Meera smiled.

Lyra's grin disappeared and was replaced by a frown. Then she reached out her arm and touched Meera's forehead with the back of her hand. The same way people check if they had a fever.

"Reed, are you okay?" Lyra asked.

Meera swatted Lyra's hand away. "What the fuck are you doing?" She asked. "I'm not sick."

"Yeah, but you're not usually like this."

"Like what?"

"All smiles and bubbly on a Monday morning," Lyra blurted out. "Unless you're Gwyn, that's understandable. Something's up."

"I agree," Gwyn interjected. "Something happened over the weekend. My theory is, it had something to do with Bran. Am I right?"

Before Meera could say anything, Lyra gasped. "Oh my gods, you finally slept with him?"

"What? No!" She lied. "I still don't understand why everybody thinks that."

The first time they asked that question, she was kinda mad. As everyone just assumes after a date, something else will happen. But no, not her and Bran, they were different. Now that it finally happened over the weekend, it was hard pretending to be mad in front of her friends that nothing happened.

Thankfully, they bought it.

"Ooh, I know!" Gwyn exclaimed. "He kissed you, already." She guessed.

Meera was pretty sure the smile on her face says it all.

Both Gwyn and Lyra squealed and gave each other high fives.

"Oh my gods!" Gwyn said, clapping her hands in excitement. "Finally!"

"Good for you, Meera," Lyra smirked. "Bran is the tamest among the Stark boys."

"Tamest?" Gwyn repeated. "What do you mean? Are the other Stark boys troublemakers?"

"Not really," Lyra replied. "Robb is the golden boy—being a lawyer and CEO. Theon, the foster kid, is a womanizer—but according to Sansa, he's never actually had a girlfriend. Jon, the military officer, is the gloomy one. And Rickon, well, there's a reason why they call him the wild wolf in the family."

"Bran is obviously the smart one." Gwyn continued. "But what about the girls?"

"Sansa is Miss Popular, but the good kind and Arya is the witty and rebellious one and do not ever cross her."

"Uh, excuse me," Meera spoke up. "Why are we even talking about this?"

"This is about your boyfriend and his siblings' dynamics." Gwyn pointed out. "Trust me, you don't know how Asher handled it when my brothers interrogated him. By the way, has he met Jojen?" She asked.

"Yep," Meera said. "They seem to get on really well."

"That's good news," Lyra said. "They're kind of similar in a way if you ask me. Bran always has his nose on his books as Jojen is on his plants."

"That's a nice way of putting it." She remarked.

Another colleague of theirs stopped by her cubicle. Donnel Locke, a guy from downtown White Harbor. He was hired a year ago and his cubicle was at the end of their row.

"Meera," Donnel called. "Did Tyrek come by today like he always does?" He asked.

"No, thank the gods," Meera replied. "I hope it stays this way."

Donnel snorted. "So, it's true."

"What is, Don?" Gwyn asked.

Donnel leaned in closer. "I heard Tyrek got reprimanded by the HR department last Friday, because of that incident on the lobby with the dog."

"Oh my gods," Lyra said in a small voice. "That is music to my ears. Go on, Don."

"They have CCTV footage," Donnel continued. "And they viewed it as turning down a client or something. And I think you guys remember that good customer service is a priority in this company. The thing that makes it even more serious is because the guy he turned away is the governor's son."

All three of them exchanged surprised looks.

"What are the consequences of his actions?" Meera asked.

"They said he's on probation," Donnel explained. "He could be demoted or worse, terminated. That decision will fall to the board though."

"I doubt that," Gwyn shook his head. "He's a Lannister."

"Yeah, but he's in the North." Lyra reminded them. "Lions don't have power here."

For the rest of the day, Meera had not seen even a shadow of Tyrek, which is a good thing and she hoped it will be that way. Sure, she never liked Tyrek and it pissed her off that he was always on her every single day asking if she's free after work, but she didn't want him to be fired because of that. All Meera wanted is for Tyrek to leave her alone even if they were in the same building for most of the day.

When the time came for them to clock out, Meera walked out of the building with Lyra and Gwyn.

Suddenly, Gwyn screamed and jumped up and down. "Oh my gods!" She squealed. "You guys, boyfriend alert! At twelve o'clock!"

Both Meera and Lyra turned straight ahead as saw Bran standing by his car, waiting for her.

Meera's eyes widened as they saw Bran walked towards them.

"Oh," Lyra smiled teasingly. "We'll see you tomorrow then, Meera." She said. "Have fun on your date."

Gwyn and Lyra didn't even say hi to Bran and just went to another direction.

"Hey, Stardust," Bran greeted, then gave a peck on her cheek.

The surprise expression never left her face. "Branflakes, hi." She acknowledged. "What are you doing here?"

"We're having dinner tonight at your place, remember?"

"I know," She said. "But it's too early. I still have to cook our dinner and—"

"Oh, don't worry," He assured. "I'll help prepare. And I have proven myself in the kitchen, right?"

Meera snorted. "Of course," She frowned. "Wait, how did you know I didn't drive to work today?"

"You usually walk to work," Bran recalled. "And you drive to work if it's raining/snowing or you're running late—same as me. And it's Monday—traffic congestion is worst on Mondays. Your brother mentioned that."

"So you've been talking to Jojen?"

"Uh, sort of," He admitted as he opened the car shotgun door. "We're assigned on the same row for grad rites."

Meera was about to ask a question when the window on the car's rear side slid open and her brother Jojen stuck his head out.

"For the old gods' sake, Meera," Jojen complained. "Just get in the car."

She turned to Bran for an explanation.

He shrugged. "I told him he can hitch the ride."

Meera had then got into the car. Bran started the engines and they headed to the Greenwood Flats.

"So what are we cooking tonight?" Bran asked.

Before Meera could say anything, Jojen, who was in the backseat reading a Nat Geo magazine, spoke up.

"Anything you want," Jojen answered absent-mindedly, not looking up from his magazine. "Just don't forget that I'm vegan."

Meera turned Jojen's magazine over to show the front cover page. The title said, Healing Remedies: A Holistic Approach to Health and Wellness.

"Is this new?" She asked.

"It just arrived this morning," He explained. "Right after you left for work."

Ever since Jojen started college, he had started a subscription on the Nat Geo magazine, and every month they deliver a copy of it to their flat in White Harbor.

. . .

A few minutes later they arrived at the Greenwood Flats. They took the elevator to the sixth floor and into their place.

Meera led Bran into the living room while Jojen went to water his plants as he does twice a day.

"It's not much," She told Bran. "But it's close to home."

"It's nice," He remarked. "It's green, literally and figuratively."

Yes, she gets that a lot. It was also the first thing Lyra and Gwyn pointed out the first time they came. Literally, because the walls were painted light green—it's hers, Jojen's and their parents' favorite color; and figuratively, because the flat has plants in it, courtesy of Jojen.

Their flat was nothing much. It had a living room, a kitchen with a peninsula counter, a dining area with a six-seater table, a bathroom and two bedrooms—each with a bed, a desk, and a wardrobe.

Meera had Bran sit on their couch as she went to place her things in her room and took off her shoes—she liked to go barefoot when indoors.

Afterwards, she led Bran into the kitchen.

"So, what are we cooking?" He asked.

"Hmm, I was thinking of a lasagna casserole." She said as she put on an apron that had the words, Kiss the Cook in cursive, with red lipstick smudges on the letter K of the words, kiss and cook.

Bran nodded. "Ooh, nice!" He said as he took another apron that she handed to him. It was a black apron with the words, Trust me, I'm the chef in white print. "I like that."

"You've made lasagna before, right?" She asked.

"Yeah," He said. "I'll take care of the meat sauce."

"Okay, and I'll take care of the cheese sauce and the pasta." She promised. "And don't worry, I had already chopped some of the ingredients that we'll use."

Meera opened the fridge and one shelf in it was full of lock&lock airtight plastic containers which she had attached hand-written labels.

"Whoa!" Bran gasped, then took one container with the onions. It had a label that said, minced white onion (for meat sauce). "This is next-level organized, I have to say. My sister Sansa would be jealous."

Meera took all the lock&lock airtight plastic containers in the fridge which she had labeled for the meat sauce and placed them on the counter. "Here are the ones I chopped, and the grounded pork." She then opened the cupboard and took out more. "Here's the tomato sauce and paste." She pointed at the spice rack. "You can use whatever spice you wish and it's over there. And if you want to use fresh herbs—"

The potted herb plants weren't where they were supposed to be because the counter where Jojen usually placed them was empty.

"Jojen," Meera called. "Where are the herbs?" She asked.

"It's here," Jojen answered, peeking out his head from the balcony. "I was watering the plants. Which herb do you need?" He asked.

Meera turned to Bran and waited.

"Oh, just basil and parsley." He answered.

Later on, Jojen carried in the small three-tier wooden pot plant stand that held the herbal plants. "Here you go." He said as he placed it back on the counter.

Bran gave a sideways smile when he saw that the plants were labeled. "You label your plants too? That's cool. Are those words below the names their actual scientific names?"

Jojen nodded. "Yep, it helps me remember their scientific names."

"That way," Meera added. "He says: watering the plants counts as studying as well."

"Hitting two birds with one stone," Bran said. "Nice." He then took a few leaves of the basil and parsley and started cooking.

Jojen went back to watering the plants and Meera herself went on to boil the lasagna pasta and made the cheese sauce.

As Bran made the meat sauce, she could smell the aroma.

"Oh my gods, Branflakes," She said. "That smells so good."

Bran handed her the wooden ladle he was using. "You wanna taste it to make sure it's Stardust-approved?" He asked.

"I already know it will taste good," Meera smiled as she took the ladle from him. "Because it smells good."

"Everyone has different taste buds," He pointed out. "So, we'll see."

Meera tasted the meat sauce and her eyes widened as he turned to him. "I'm speechless." She exclaimed. "It's so good! And it has a nice little heat to it."

"I wanted it to be just a little spicy," He said. "But I can remedy it—"

"No!" She interrupted. "It's perfect."

By then, Jojen had placed all of his plants back indoors and closed the sliding door to the balcony.

"Hmm," Her brother said. "That smells good."

Bran frowned at him. "I thought you're vegan."

"I am," Jojen replied.

"But I thought vegans hate the smell of cooking meat."

"That's the vegan stereotype everyone assumes," Jojen said. "Most vegans do hate the smell of cooking meat, but not me."

"Yeah," Meera agreed. "I would cook meat in front of him but it won't really matter because he doesn't eat meat."

"Exactly," Her brother said. "So, anything I can do to help?" He asked.

"No, we're good." She assured. "Just go do your thing."

"You know I can't eat that, right?"

"I am aware," She reassured. "And don't worry, you're having ratatouille and we're cooking it right after we place this in the oven."

"Okay, cool." Jojen shrugged. "I'll be on the couch when you need me." He said before leaving.

Bran and Meera then placed everything in pans before putting the lasagna in the oven. Afterwards, they started on the ratatouille.

"Have you made this before?" She asked.

He shook his head. "Nope, this time you will have to teach me." Then he frowned. "But wait, isn't ratatouille like a stew?"

"Yeah, but, Jojen likes the confit byaldi ratatouille," She explained. "The one like in that movie where a rat is cooking it."

"Oh, cool!" Bran beamed. "Let's get started. So, what should I do?"

"Blanch the tomatoes," She instructed. "So we can take the peel off easy. And I'll take care of the zucchinis—green and yellow, and eggplants on the mandoline."

Bran took about eight tomatoes from the fridge's crisper drawer as Meera started slicing zucchini on the mandoline.

"Slice X marks on its ends for easy peeling," She informed, drawing an X-mark on one of the tomatoes with her finger. "Soak it in boiling water for forty-five seconds, take it out and then place it in ice-cold water to stop it from cooking."

He nodded. "Roger that." He said as he soaked the tomatoes in boiling water, took a bowl from the dish drying rack and filled it with chilled water and ice from the fridge door's dispenser.

Bran went back to the tomatoes as she went back to slicing zucchini on the mandoline. But as she did, she forgot to put the guard on.

Suddenly, she heard a SHWAAK sound and felt pain on her left index finger.

"Ow!" She cussed as she examined her finger and it was bleeding.

"What is it?" Bran asked as he managed to drop the tomatoes in the ice-cold water before rushing to her side. "Are you okay? What's wrong?"

That's when he saw the blood burst from her finger.

"Let me see," He said, pulling her finger. "Oh my gods!" He said in a small voice, then pulled her over to the sink. "Wash it with water quick. I'm getting ice to stop the bleeding."

"Jojen!" Meera called. "Jojen, can you get the first-aid kit, please?"

Jojen emerged from the living room. "What?" He asked as if he'd misheard her. "What in seven hells do you need—oh my gods!" That's when he saw it. "Okay, I'm on it."

Bran dabbed the wound cut with ice in an attempt to stop the bleeding. Jojen came back with the first-aid kit and also placed cotton balls to absorb all the blood, but to no avail—it's still bleeding.

Bran turned to Jojen. "Dude, you have a lot of plants, right?" He said. "Do you have Yarrow or some other herb that can stop bleeding?"

"Yeah, I have Yarrow and Shepherd's Purse." Jojen slowly smiled, then ran to his plants. "Hold on, I'm making a tincture out of it."

"What is that?" Meera asked.

"It will stop the bleeding." Bran promised as Jojen pulled out several of its flowers and leaves.

"It's like my entire left hand is going numb." Meera pointed out. "And I'm getting dizzy, I'm not gonna lie." She admitted.

"Okay," Bran guided her towards the dining table and pulled out one of the chairs. "Just take a seat. I'm gonna get you some water."

Bran got a glass from the cupboard and filled it with water as Jojen was crushing some herbs on the mortar.

Here you go." Bran placed a glass of water on the table as he sat down next to her. He kept putting cotton balls and dabbing ice on the wound occasionally.

Bran examined the cut. "Ooh," He said, making a face at it. "It doesn't need stitches, thank the gods. But it lost a chunk."

Meera drank the glass of water. Then she had finally dared to look at the wound and saw a puddle of blood still coming out everywhere, continuously soaking several of the cotton balls.

"It's gonna be really tender there," Bran said, gently pressing the cut. "Because, I mean, you've cut into a nerve. That's why there's a lot of blood." He turned to Jojen. "Dude, is that done? It's still bleeding like mad."

"It's coming together," Jojen promised as he pounded away, and then added what looked like apple cider vinegar before mixing it with a spoon. "Okay, it's done."

Jojen brought the mortar and placed it on the table. It looked like some sort of green paste, which she assumed was the crushed herbs that were supposedly going to help stop the bleeding on her finger.

"What in seven hells is that?" She asked. "It looks like pesto sauce."

"It's Shepherd's purse and Yarrow," Jojen explained. "Capsella bursa-pastoris and Achillea millefolium. It's—"

"Okay, I don't need to know their scientific names," She grumbled. "Now is not the time for you to teach me about plant taxonomy." She sighed. "I'm sorry, I'm just—I can't—I'm seeing too much blood from the cut. I'm freaking out here."

"Just calm down, okay?" Bran said in a soothing voice. "You're gonna be fine." He said as he held her free hand.

Her brother scooped a few spoonfuls, placed it on a piece of cloth before tying the ends. "Alright, hold on to something." He instructed, adjusting his glasses with his knuckle. "This is gonna sting." He had then started squeezing the cloth above her finger, extracting some sort of greenish-brown liquid from it, dropping small amounts of it onto her finger.

"What do you mean—OW!" Meera screamed. It definitely stung. "OH MY GODS!" She may have squeezed Bran's hand way too hard. "What in seven hells is in there?"

After letting it sit for a few minutes, the bleeding stopped.

"Ooh, nice job, Dude!" Bran said as he gave Jojen a high-five. "How did you learn to make that...?"

"Tincture?" Jojen finished as he cleaned his glasses with his t-shirt. "I'm a botany major. We were taught to do that."

"Thank you, you guys," Meera said gratefully. "Seriously. I could feel myself blacking out from all that blood."

Jojen put back on his glasses and frowned at her. "I thought girls see blood more often than guys do."

"That is different!" She insisted. "This is a freakin' open wound, not period blood." She sighed, then turned to Bran. "Anyways, how did you know this type of plant can stop bleeding?"

"Plants," Jojen corrected. "I put two types in there. One is to stop the bleeding and the other is to stop the cut from getting infected."

"Well," Bran said as he tended to her wound, wrapping it in a bandage. "My Mom's a doctor and I used to get wounded a lot when I was a kid. And I've read about some battle general ages ago who uses yarrow to heal the wounds of the soldiers under his command."

"Yeah," Her brother agreed. "I've read about that too. I forgot his name though. Anyways, do you need anything? A cup of tea, maybe?"

"Yes, please," Meera said, standing up. "Now, I have to get back to cooking."

"No!" Both Bran and Jojen said simultaneously.

"You just lost a lot of blood." Jojen pointed out. "You need to rest. Just sit back and relax, sis."

"I agree," Bran added. "And don't worry about finishing up in cooking, I'll handle it. Just tell me what I need to do."

Meera sighed. "Fine." She took off her apron then leaned back on the dining chair.

Jojen made her tea while Bran finished what they had started through her instructions, slicing all the vegetables on the mandoline, cooking and pureeing the sauce and arranging everything on the cast-iron skillet before putting it in the oven altogether.

Afterwards, Bran started washing the pots and plates they used in cooking by hand since they didn't have a dishwashing machine.

"Hey, you don't have to do that." She said. "You're our guest, you shouldn't be washing the dishes."

"It's fine," Bran assured. "Besides, your wound shouldn't be wet and the dishes are piling. And you don't want that because it's dirty."

Meera chose not to argue. She just drank her tea in silence and watched as Bran did the dishes. At the same time, she thought to herself, what she did to deserve a guy like Bran.

When Bran was done, he took off his apron and sat next to her.

"I'm sorry, Branflakes," She spoke up.

"Why are you apologizing?" He asked. "And for what?"

"First of all, for worrying you with this," Meera gestured to her bandaged finger. "Second, is that you had to do all the cooking on the other dish; and third, washed the dishes while I had to sit here drinking tea."

Bran snorted. "That's it?"

Meera hit his arm. "I'm serious." She insisted. "You're a guest."

"Meera, relax, okay?" He reassured. "It's fine. Besides, I got to cook with you today."

She gave him a peck on his cheek. "Thank you."

"That's it?" Meera chuckled. "Somehow, I know you were gonna say that." Then she crooked a finger and motioned him to come closer.

"Now, we're talking." Bran dived in and kissed her on her lips.

Suddenly, their doorbell audio intercom buzzed, which made them break apart.

The Greenwood Flats has a doorbell intercom system in their lobby in which you can ring a specific unit and wait for an answer before you're allowed to come in—at least, for someone they didn't know. Others, specifically, Lyra and Gwyn, they'd just walk directly to the elevator and knock on their door. And for mail and package deliveries, they will be notified by the Greenwood's postmaster.

"I'll get it," Jojen spoke up as he ran to the audio intercom by their main door. He pressed a button and leaned closer. "Hello," He called.

"Jojen," A man's voice replied.

When she heard the voice, she mentally screamed. Uh, oh, she thought.

"Dad?" Jojen called out in disbelief.

It was their Dad's voice. It made her stood from her seat and sprint towards the living room.

"Can you help me and your Mom with the groceries?" Their Dad asked.

"Um, sure," Her brother answered. "I'll be right down." He removed his hand from the intercom and turned to her. "Mom and Dad are here."

"Yeah, I just heard." She said.

"Do they know Bran is here?" Jojen asked as he put on his shoes.

"No, I didn't even know they were coming." She admitted.

"I'll give them a heads up then," Jojen said as he got out of their flat.

Meera buried her face in her palms. "Oh my gods!" She exclaimed, panicking.

Bran cleared his throat. "Um, so your parents are here?" He guessed.

"I didn't know they were coming, I swear," Meera promised, then sighed. "I just…I just didn't expect this, okay? I want you to meet my parents, but," She shrugged. "Just not like this. I would've been more prepared. Maybe cooked a three-course meal or something and—"

"Meera," Bran called, placing his hands on her shoulder. "Try to calm down, okay? I know this is something out of the blue, and there's obviously no other way around it. So I'm going to embrace this opportunity to meet your parents."

Meera was so busy panicking about it that she had forgotten about Bran. And he's probably more nervous than she was.

"You're taking this surprisingly well." She noticed.

"Nope, I'm internally panicking." He admitted. "I just have a calm exterior."

Meera chuckled. "It's going to be fine, Bran." She assured, straightening his shirt. "They'll love you."

It seemed to calm him down.

"Um, how about I take out the pans from the oven?" He suggested.

"Right," She agreed. "And I'll set the table."

Just after Meera had set the table, he could hear Jojen talking to their parents.

She could hear their Mom's voice. "Have you both eaten dinner?" Their Mom, Jyana asked.

"Not yet," Jojen replied. "But they were cooking earlier. It just had to be taken out of the oven."

"They?" Their Dad repeated.

"Oh, Meera's boyfriend is here." Her brother blurted out.

"What?" Their parents asked in unison like they'd misheard him.

"Since when did your sister had a boyfriend?" Their Dad asked.

"Only she can answer that, Dad," Jojen said as he walked passed her towards the kitchen, carrying bags of groceries.

Meera took a deep breath before stepping out to greet her parents. "Mom, Dad, hi!" She smiled, then gave them each a hug.

Their parents were like older versions of Meera herself and her brother, Jojen. Their Mom, Jyana had curly brown hair, though she wore it longer than hers and tied it in a ponytail; she also had light brown eyes and since she's near-sighted, she always wore glasses. Their Dad, Howland, had dirty dark blond hair, with a few grey streaks; he also had green eyes—which both she and Jojen had inherited.

"Hello, dear," Her Mom kissed her on her cheek.

"So, where's your boyfriend?" Her Dad demanded.

He said the word boyfriend like it was weed in a field of daisies. And for someone who's on a plantation business, it's regarded as an irritant.

Their Mom, Jyana hit their Dad on his arm.

Howland turned to his wife. "What?"

Just then Bran walked into the living room, looking more nervous than Meera has ever seen him. And she could see her father's eyes narrow like he was examining a plant specimen in the fields.

"Bran," Meera started to say. "These are our parents, My Dad, Howland and my Mom, Jyana." Meera introduced, gesturing to them.

"Hello," Jyana greeted.

Bran smiled and nodded his head at them. "Good evening, Mr. and Mrs. Reed." He greeted. "It's a pleasure to finally meet you. I'm Brandon Stark, but you can call me Bran." He introduced himself.

Meera never understood the expression on their parents' faces. At first, they exchanged wary looks.

Then her father frowned at Bran. "You're Ned's boy?" He asked.

Bran nodded in confirmation. "Um, yes, sir."

"Oh," Howland smiled. "Pleasure to meet you, Bran."

Jojen raised an eyebrow at their father. "Dad, you know Ned Stark?" He asked.

"Every Northerner knows him, son," Howland said. "He's the governor."

Meera cleared her throat. "Uh, anyways, dinner is ready." She announced. "So, we should…" She gestured towards the dining table.

"Oh, your father and I also bought food," Jyana said, gesturing to the brown paper bags and the Rosebud pink box of cupcakes their Dad held. She then turned to Jojen. "Could you transfer them on plates, honey?"

"Sure, Mom," Jojen said as he took the paper bags and went for the kitchen.

"What did you get us?" Meera asked.

"Well, we mostly had to find food that your brother would eat," Howland explained as they all headed towards the dining table. "And we all know it's hard to find vegan options when ordering out."

"Wait," Jyana said urgently, in a stop-everything gesture. "Meera, sweetie, what happened to your hand? Why is your finger wrapped in a bandage?" She demanded.

"She cut her hand on the mandoline!" Jojen screamed from the kitchen.

"Ay, ay, ay, Meerakins," Her Dad said as he had his worried face on. "You need to be careful."

Only her Dad ever called her Meerakins, and it was his nickname to her since she was a baby and yes, it grew on her.

They sat down at the dining table. Their Dad, Howland sat at the head of the table, as usual. To his right, was their Mom, Jyana and then Jojen. To his left, was Meera herself and then Bran.

On their table, besides the lasagna and ratatouille, Meera recognized the onion rings and quesadillas from the Cornucopia Food Park.

"Ooh, lasagna." Howland squealed. "Looks delicious. And what is that?" He asked, pointing at the cast-iron skillet.

"That's ratatouille, Dad," She answered. "It's for Jojen."

"By the way," Jyana said. "That Food Park a block from here, that's new, right? It wasn't there the last time we came to White Harbor."

"It is, Mom," Meera replied. "It just opened two weeks ago."

They chatted as they ate.

"Hmm," Their Dad mumbled just as he first ate a forkful of lasagna. "This tastes as good as it looks." He turned to Meera. "You cooked this?"

"Not really," She admitted. "Bran did the meat sauce and I did the rest. And he also cooked the ratatouille because I cut my finger."

"It's good," Howland complimented. "It has a nice little heat to it, a little spicy. It's almost like it's a Riverlander's recipe."

"It's sort of is, sir," Bran admitted. "My Mom is from the Riverlands. She kind of adapted that into the dishes that she cooks."

"Dude," Jojen spoke up. "Also, the ratatouille—lit!" He gave him the okay-hand gesture. "I could eat this all day."

"Thanks," Bran said. "Though, I was merely following your sister's instructions as I have never cooked that before."

"Hmm, it's always plus points if a guy can cook." Jyana pointed out.

"But Dad can't cook," Jojen brought up.

Howland cleared his throat. "Oh, so you're just gonna forget who baked the blood orange and lime meringue pie when you last went home for spring break?"

Jojen's mouth opened, but no words came out. He only sighed. "Okay, I take that back."

They all laughed at the thought of it.

"Anyways, Bran," Their Mom turned to Bran, smiling. "I can fully sense that you're a mama's boy, and you often cook with your Mom." She guessed.

Bran nodded. "Yes, I am, ma'am," He confirmed. "But not as often. My Mom's a doctor, so she's mostly busy with work."

Jojen frowned at him. "Don't you have like, chefs in Stark Manor?" He asked, earning a glare from their Mom.

"Uh, yeah, we do." He answered. "But when my Mom's free, she likes to cook for the entire family…and staff. I'm usually with her in the kitchen when she cooks, along with one of my two sisters. But I mostly just taste everything. I guess that's how I inherited the Rivermen tastebuds."

Meera smiled at Bran. And she was glad that he seemed to be at ease and relaxed than he was earlier.

"So, Bran," Her Dad said as he finished his several slices of lasagna. "What do you do?"

Meera answered for him. "Uh, Dad, Bran is still attending the university." She explained. "He's on the graduating class with Jojen."

Their parents, again, gave each other wary looks. Now, they know that Bran was younger than she was. But she couldn't read their expressions.

"What field of study were you taking then?" Howland asked.

"Structural Engineering, sir." Bran replied.

"So, you'll be in the construction industry?" Their Dad said. "Much like your ancestor, Brandon the Builder?"

"Yes, sir," He agreed. "A lot of people were pointing it out. But once I pass the boards, my sister and I will be forming a construction firm. It'll be like a partnership."

Jyana frowned. "Your sister is on the engineering field as well?"

"Architecture, ma'am," He corrected.

"Oh, I think you'll make a perfect team." Jyana pointed out. "Brother and sister, architect and engineer—business partners. It's a win-win situation."

"That's what our Dad said," Bran recalled. "And he agreed to loan us a business capital. But, of course, I have to graduate first and then pass the boards."

Afterwards, her parents now seemed to be at ease with Bran's presence. They asked him when and how they met, to which Bran and Meera explained and narrated everything that happened, but of course, leaving out the explicit details.

And then her Dad asked the question.

"You know, Bran," Howland said. "My daughter has never brought home a guy before. Now, I'm asking you, what are your intentions with her?"

Bran suddenly looked nervous and cleared his throat. "Mr. Reed, I know Meera and I haven't been together that long, but the time I've spent with her has always been incredible." He said, gently squeezing her hand on the table. "She means a lot to me and I have nothing but the best intentions with her."

Her father then gave Bran his smile of approval, which made Meera nearly want to scream in delight. Thank the gods, she thought.

When the time came for Bran to head home, she accompanied him to his car.

"That went okay, right?" He asked, skeptically.

Meera chuckled. "Oh, it went more than okay, Branflakes," She said. "I honestly didn't expect my parents to come, but it was a success. They like you."

Bran smiled wide. "Well, in that case, I'll have to introduce you to mine." He said. "They're eager to meet you, by the way."

She knitted her eyebrows at him. "Really?"

"My sisters are to blame; they couldn't keep their mouth shut." He explained. "Also, Wex reports to Theon everything he saw—Theon tells Robb and Jon and boom! It spreads like wildfire in the entire house."

"Must be fun to have a lot of siblings," She brought up.

"Oh, it is," He agreed. "And also, very stressful." He sighed. "I have to go."

"Okay," She said, then kissed him on his lips.

"I'll call you when I'm home, Stardust." Bran winked at her before getting into his car and drove back to the Aquamarine.

As she went back into the flat, her Dad was waiting for her. And he beckoned her to sit down on the couch beside him.

"I wasn't able to say anything earlier because he was here," Howland said. "But…" He faltered, then sighed. "I don't even know where to start."

"Howland," Jyana called from the kitchen. "If their ages are your concern, then what do you call us? You're younger than me." She reminded him.

"It's not that, Jya," Howland argued. "And for that very same reason, I don't care about age gaps. My main concern is—I mean, he's a Stark."

Meera frowned at him. "So?"

"They're the most prominent family in the entire North," He reminded her. "People like him are used to high standards, especially since he's the governor's son."

"Not Bran, Dad," She argued. "He's not some spoiled rich boy like what you're implying just because his last name is Stark."

"I know, sweetie," He said. "I saw that earlier, how he interacted with us. He's humble and down to earth. He cares about you and he seems to make you happy. To me, that's what matters. I just don't want you to be caught in the middle when their family's having conflicts in politics or their businesses."

"As if Bran would ever let that happen," Meera chuckled. "And you don't have to worry about me, Daddy. I'm twenty-five, I can handle myself." She assured.

"Well, whether you're twenty-five or sixty-five," Howland said, putting an arm around her shoulder. "You're always going to be my baby girl." He then kissed her forehead.

That night, her parents stayed over as they usually do when they visit unannounced. They will be sleeping on the couch, which was a convertible—she had specifically bought one because the flat only has two rooms.

Meera also didn't sleep immediately that night. She lay in bed, replaying everything that happened that day and she was happy with how it went. And the highlight: Bran was able to meet and get the approval of her parents.

Suddenly, she had the urge to go to the bathroom. And as she opened her bedroom door, Meera heard something she didn't expect to hear: her parents talking in hushed tones.

"—don't think Ned Stark knows about them." Her Dad's voice said. "Because if he did, he'd probably demand his son to cut ties."

"And what makes you even think that?" Her Mom asked.

"What do you think he's been doing to us for the past twenty-five years?" Howland reminded Jyana. "Ever since it happened—"

"How many times to I have to say it, Howland," Jyana interrupted. "You didn't do anything wrong, you were only trying to help her."

"Well, that help led to her death." Howland insisted.

"You're not the one who caused a zero-visibility snowstorm that day," Jyana said. "And you tried to stop her from going. But you know Lya, she's stubborn."

"Look, it doesn't matter anymore," Howland sighed. "Whatever the case, I just don't want our children to be involved. Especially, Meera."

Hearing all of that, Meera didn't understand what they meant but it made her curious. What had happened twenty-five years ago? And who is this Lya they were referring to? Now, she was starting to be more curious about why her parents had that momentary look of surprise when they heard Bran's last name.

Meera had no idea what had happened years ago. But she promised herself that she'll get to the bottom of it.