Bran had been enraptured with King's Landing ever since their arrival, following Ser Barristan around like a cub follows it's mother, asking him all sorts of questions about being a knight. Though assured by Ser Barristan that it was alright, Eddard had cautioned Bran to be careful about the questions he asked, and told him to stay as much out of the knight's way as possible. This resulted in Bran following behind Ser Barristan, chattering away with him as if he were his grandfather. Bran had never met either of his grandfathers, the one dead at the hand of the Mad King, the other too ill to leave Riverrun. And since Ser Barristan didn't have any descendants, he was the perfect substitute in Bran's mind.

When he wasn't spending time with the elderly knight, he was either with Arya for her "dancing" lessons, hiding high in the redwoods so he wouldn't have to spend time with Sansa who had become even less fun to be around than usual, or with one or both of the Brax sisters. Rarely were they seen apart, but there were moments long and short that they would be, and Bran had gotten to know both of them very well in the short time they'd been there. Emily was a marvelous story-teller—better than old Nan in his opinion—, and Talia could paint every scene so breath-takingly it felt like you were there in the painting. Their personalities were very similar, yet as different as he and all of his siblings were, and he liked them both very much. He knew his lord father liked them too, despite the fact that Eddard didn't show any hint that he did, that was just his father's way of protecting them.

This particular evening, Bran wandered the halls with Talia, holding her hand. Her sister Emily had gotten permission to journey to Hornvale to help their father care for their ailing mother, and since the queen could not be without both of her companions, Talia had volunteered to be the one to stay. Bran knew that she missed her sister, so he'd kept to her side as often as he could to help cheer her up. As they walked, he told her all about the towers in Winterfell that had long been deserted and how he'd climb up there to feed the crows corn. He admitted he hadn't gotten around to doing that before they'd left, too busy saying his good-byes to everyone, and how bad he felt about leaving his crow friends without giving them their last kernels of corn.

"Crows are clever creatures." Talia said kindly when he finished, squeezing his hand. "I am sure they knew that you wanted to say good-bye. Tell me more about this godswood you mentioned, please."

"Certainly." Bran more than happily told her every detail about it that he could recall, loving how she never asked more than the occasional question when she wanted clarification on some particular. She listened with such rapt attention that he never had to repeat himself, and he could hardly wait to see his home incorporate itself into her paintings. "There are no heart trees south of the Neck except on the Isle of Faces, and I think it's better for it. No tree should look like it has hands for leaves."

Talia looked at her free hand, as if contemplating how it would look growing on the limbs of trees instead of being at the end of her arms. "Perhaps they think that humans shouldn't have just two limbs and legs instead of roots."

Bran blinked, then laughed softly. Talia said the oddest, yet most insightful things sometimes. It was one of the reasons he liked her so much, she wasn't at all your ordinary court lady when you were in private with her. She teased him like Jon and Robb, played hide and seek with him and Arya, and would speak with him about anything. Emily was a lot like her elder sister, and Bran missed her very much. Not as much as Talia perhaps, but he came close. "I never thought of that. Have you ever been to the Isle of Faces?"

"No, but my sister and I passed fairly close to it by the Goldroad on our way here from Hornvale. It would have been maybe a day's journey or so out of the way, but as curious as Emily and I were, we had an escort we couldn't get away from, and keeping the queen waiting is not usually a good idea. Besides, we are of the Faith. We would have been outsiders."

"I don't think the old gods would have minded, it's the new ones that have all the rules. Or that's what my father tells my mother when he thinks my siblings and I can't hear."

Talia laughed, ruffing up his hair. "You're all very mischievous, aren't you?"

"Something like that." Bran grinned. "Can we see the dragon skulls in the dungeon?"

"I see no reason why not."

So with exchanged grins, they headed down to the dungeon. The skulls of the dragons went from being massive and terrifying in their amazingness, to small and pathetic-looking things that were barely worth mentioning. Bran remembered Maester Luwin saying that he suspected the diminishing in size was due to the fact that the dragons had been kept inside, and not taken outside where they could be wild and free. He thought it was sad someone would want to keep such a great beast from it's destiny. He would never do that to Summer, who he took out to the godswood here every day if he could. Arya did the same for Nymeria, and even Sansa could be seen walking about with Lady through the shaded paths.

His thoughts were interrupted by seeing the gleaming skulls down in the dungeon as they descended down the steps, light from the torches reflecting off the fossils that appeared to have been polished in a way that would make them shine forever. It was a shame to see such magestic things hidden away where no one could appreciate them unless they knew where they were being kept, which was pretty much everyone at the castle. "I wonder what they would have looked like when they were alive." He murmured softly when they'd reached the dirt floor of the dungeon, sitting beside Talia on the bottom most step. He watched as Talia got some parchment out of her pocket and started sketching with graphite, looking up now and then at the skulls for a reference point. When she was finished, there was a rough sketch of a fearsome creature with wings that blocked out the sunlight and much of the sky as well, hovering over what King's Landing would have looked like when Aegon conquered it centuries ago.

"Probably something like that." Talia said quietly. "Though I have never seen a dragon to tell you for certain. They were killed off a long time ago, or so the stories say."

"But you don't think they're entirely true."

Talia chuckled, indicating he was right. "Dragons were supposed to be cunning creatures, I refuse to believe they would have let themselves be hunted into extinction. No Bran, there are dragons out there somewhere... they are merely hiding till the time is right for them to rise out of the shadows."

Bran looked back at the biggest skull, the teeth of which were bigger than any man was tall, save if that man were a Giant. "I hope so. I really want to see a dragon."

"So do I. And who knows? Perhaps we will." Talia shrugged with a smile.

A comfortable silence fell over the two friends, Talia tucking the sketch in her pocket to use for a painting at a later time, and Bran leaning slightly against her in a comfortable way. They sat like that for what felt like hours till it was dinner time, slowly rising to their feet and heading back up the steps. They nearly collided with Jaime Lannister, who was headed down. His lips pulled back into an unpleasant sneer at them, eyes narrowed slightly.

"What are you two doing down here?" He demanded.

"Admiring the dragon skulls, of course. Now if you will kindly excuse us, Ser Jaime, we would like to not be late for dinner." Talia's voice was calm, but Bran could feel she was as taught as a bowstring because he held her hand.

Jaime shrugged, suddenly looking bored as he moved aside. "As you will, Lady Brax. Just remember what house you have sworn your loyalties to."

Talia's smile was as cold as ice. "And you ought to remember that the Starks will soon be your inlaws, Ser Jaime. I do not think your lord father has forgotten." She all but pushed Bran up the stairs ahead of her, not letting the Lannister get in another word edgewise. Soon they were amongst the others in the dinning hall, and she left him with his father and siblings at their end of the table, parting from him there and walking up to sit in her usual place not too far from the queen.

"Are you well, Bran?" Eddard asked in concern, clearly knowing something was amiss.

"Yes, Father. I do not know if the same can be said of Talia. We ran into Ser Jaime on the way back up from the dungeon, and..."

"And?"

"I think he threatened her." Bran whispered. Keeping his voice low amongst the loud talk and laughter at the table, he told his father of the encounter.

Eddard glanced at their mutual friend, who appeared to be in a deep discussion with the young princess Myrcella. "From what you just said, I doubt we need to worry too much. I don't wish to frighten you Bran, but King's Landing is not a safe place and Talia has been here for much longer than us. I would venture to say she can handle herself." Yet even as he spoke, Bran heard the hints of uncertanty in his voice and that was enough for him to silently vow to make sure his friend was not harmed.