Bran Stark ran through the woods outside Winterfell with a bow. He focused on his target, his eyes scanning the area for any movement. Suddenly, a raven flew past his face and landed in a nearby tree. Bran quickly moved closer, seeing that the raven was three-eyed. The same three-eyed raven that he always had dreams about. He aimed with his bow and notched an arrow.
"Don't think too much, Bran," a voice said behind him. Bran looked and saw it was Jon Snow, his older half-brother. And beside him was his other older brother, Robb Stark.
"Relax your bow arm," Robb added, trying to help Bran steady his aim.
Bran took a deep breath and carefully let the arrow fly. But, unfortunately, it missed the raven, which took flight. Jon and Robb laughed.
At that moment, Ned Stark, Bran's father, spoke up. "And which one of you was a marksman at ten?" he told the older brothers.
Bran looked up at the sky, trying to locate his father's voice. It had felt like years since he saw his father. But then, he saw another boy appear next to him. Someone who he had never seen before. Jojen Reed.
"You can't kill it, you know," Jojen said quietly.
Bran turned to look at him. "Why not?" he asked, confused.
"Because the raven is you," Jojen replied cryptically.
Bran woke up suddenly in his bedroom in Winterfell, gasping for air. He looked around, confused and disoriented, before realizing he was in his bed. Maester Luwin was sitting in a chair beside him, reading a book.
"Are you all right, my lord?" Maester Luwin asked as he looked over at Bran.
Bran took a deep breath and recounted his dream, trying to describe what he had seen and felt. When he finished, Maester Luwin sat back, deep in thought.
"That does sound troubling," he said. "Dreams can be powerful, and they often carry meaning. We need to be careful."
Bran nodded, feeling a sense of unease settle over him. He knew that Winterfell was safe now, thanks to the protection spell that Rumplestiltskin had placed over the walls. But he also knew there were still enemies out there that would stop at nothing to destroy them or his family. So if his dream was a warning, they needed to be prepared.
"Do you think it means something?" Bran asked, his voice barely above a whisper.
Maester Luwin hesitated before answering. "I'm not sure," he said slowly. "But I know that we need to be vigilant. Winterfell may be safe for now, but that doesn't mean we should let our guard down."
Bran nodded, his mind racing. He knew they needed to do something but didn't know what. And then it came to him. "Rumplestiltskin," he said suddenly. "We need to find him. Maybe he can help us understand what this dream means."
Robb Stark, the young King in the North, sat alone in his chamber at Harrenhal, lost in thought as he gazed deeply into the flickering flames of the fireplace. The weight of his responsibilities as a leader weighed heavily on his mind, causing him to be introspective and contemplative. The Northern kingdom was in the midst of a war, and every decision he made could mean the difference between victory or defeat, life or death for his people.
As Robb sat there, Talisa, his wife, stood nearby, watching him with concern etched on her face. She knew the weight that he carried, and she worried about him. Robb appreciated her presence, even though he knew that he needed to stay focused on the task at hand.
Suddenly, Talisa broke the silence, her mellifluous voice cutting through the air. "My mother always told me you Westerosi were a grim lot," she said, trying to lighten the mood. "Grim, bearded, stinking barbarians that would row across the Narrow Sea and steal us from our beds."
Robb couldn't help but chuckle at her words. He turned around to look at her. "Did you ever think you'd marry one?" he asked her, the hint of a smile playing on his lips.
Talisa walked over to him, half-embracing him. "I never thought I'd marry anyone at all," she confessed, her voice low and intimate.
"Never?" Robb asked her, surprised at her admission.
"Not until I met the king of the grim, bearded, stinking barbarians," Talisa replied with a smile, leaning in to kiss him.
Their tender moment was abruptly interrupted by the sudden arrival of Roose Bolton, one of Robb's advisors and bannermen. The man entered the chamber, holding a raven message in his hand, and bowed respectfully.
"Pardon me, Your Grace. My Queen," Roose said, acknowledging Talisa's presence as well.
"Lord Bolton," Talisa replied, stepping away from Robb and giving him space.
Roose approached Robb and handed him the message. "Your Grace, word from Riverrun," he informed him, his voice serious and grave.
Robb Stark brought the message to his mother. It was a message regarding her family. Her father, who had recently passed away. He found her in an archway of Harrenhal, where he told her the news. After hearing it, Catelyn sat slumped in an archway, her eyes cast downward. With them was Rumplestiltskin.
Rumplestiltskin frowned as he studied Catelyn. "You haven't seen him in years, have you, dearie?"
Catelyn looked over at him. She shook her head. "No. I haven't. I don't even know how many."
Robb approached her, offering what comfort he could. "We'll travel to the funeral together," he said. "Lord Bolton will garrison here until we return."
But Catelyn couldn't find solace in his words. "Will I be wearing manacles when I lay my father to rest?" she asked.
Robb looked over at Catelyn, then over at Rumplestiltskin. The man looked around, as if he was hearing something. "Rumple?" he asked. "What is it?"
Rumplestiltskin looked back at Robb and Catelyn. "You two stay here," he said. "Something's just come up." And he vanished away from the two of them instantly.
Rumplestiltskin soon appeared in the courtyard of Winterfell. He looked around, until he saw Belle head straight for him. He looked at her. "Belle!" he exclaimed, wrapping his arms around her. "Are you alright? Are you safe?"
Belle looked up at Rumplestiltskin and nodded. "I'm fine, yes."
"And the Ironborn?"
"They left to help fight off against the rest of the Iron Island invasion," Belle answered. "But that's not why I called you here. It's Bran."
"What about Bran?"
"He's been having dreams. Strange dreams." She looked at him, and took his hand. "Come. He wants to see you."
She led him to Bran's room, and they both entered. Bran was delighted that Rumplestiltskin had come, and he told him about his dreams. However, wanting to see them for himself, he conjured a dreamcatcher and used it to extract the dream from Bran Stark's mind, capturing it in the intricate web of the dreamcatcher. As he watched the dream unfold within the dreamcatcher, he carefully analysed it for any clues or hidden meanings.
He saw Bran Stark aiming a bow and arrow, standing with his older brothers, Jon and Snow. He also saw a three-eyed raven and a strange boy he did not know. He turned to Bran. "And you are positive that you have never seen him before?"
Bran shook his head. "I don't know who he is. I've never seen him before."
"The dream is cryptic. Usually they're something that our subconscious is telling us. But this dream, it's different. It's a vision."
Bran nodded slowly. "So the boy at the end…"
"Is possibly tracking you down," Rumplestiltskin finished. "We need to find out who he really is. And what he wants."
Bran was sitting in his wagon in the courtyard of Winterfell; his eyes fixed on the open front gates. His direwolf, Summer, stood at his side, his ears pricked and his growl low and menacing. Something was out there, and Bran could feel it in his bones.
Suddenly, he heard a voice, a soft, almost musical voice that seemed to be coming from the other side of the gates. "Summer?" he asked, his voice low and hesitant. "Is someone there? Who's out there?"
A figure appeared from beyond the gates as if to answer his question. It was a young boy, as Bran had seen in his dreams. He approached the gates of Winterfell and walked through them, stopping in front of Bran and Summer.
As the boy stood before Bran and Summer, another figure appeared behind him. It was Rumplestiltskin, and he was holding a sword pointed at the boy's back. "Not another step," he said, his voice low and menacing. "Why are you here?"
The boy looked at Rumplestiltskin calmly. "I'm unarmed," he said, "Rumplestiltskin."
Rumplestiltskin stepped back, lowering his sword but still watching the boy suspiciously. "And how do you know that, hmm?" he asked.
"I know plenty of things," the boy replied, his eyes fixed on Summer. "Like your wolf's name is Summer."
Summer growled at the boy, but he stretched his hand towards the direwolf. Summer stopped growling and sniffed the boy's hand before walking away.
"I'm Jojen Reed," the boy said, turning back to Bran. "And I've come here with my sister, Meera. We've come a long way to find you, Brandon. And we have much farther to go."
The boy's words took Bran aback. "Find me? Why?" he asked, glancing at Rumplestiltskin, who was still suspiciously watching Jojen and Meera.
Jojen's eyes bore into Bran's, intense and unwavering. "Because you have a destiny, Bran Stark," he said. "A great and important one. And we're here to help you fulfil it."
Bran was sceptical. "What do you mean, my destiny?"
Jojen sighed. "You've been inside your wolf's head and seen through his eyes, haven't you?" he asked.
Bran nodded. "Only when I'm asleep."
"That's how it begins," Jojen said, "until you learn to control it. You're a warg."
"It's not just wolves, though," Bran said. "Sometimes in my dreams, there's a..."
"A three-eyed raven?" Jojen finished.
Bran was astonished. "You've seen it?"
"We saw him together," Jojen said. "You haven't forgotten?"
Bran shook his head. "No, but...does it have anything to do with warging?"
Jojen shook his head. "No. The raven is something different. Something deeper. The raven brings the sight."
"The sight?" Bran repeated.
"Seeing things that haven't happened yet," Jojen said. "Or things that happened long before you were born. Or things that are happening right now, thousands of miles away."
Rumplestiltskin stepped forward, eyeing Jojen and Meera suspiciously. "And how do you know so much about his abilities?" he asked.
Rumplestiltskin stepped forward. "And how do you know so much about his abilities?" he asked, eyeing Jojen and Meera suspiciously.
Jojen's green eyes shimmered with a serene glow as he gazed at the diminutive man before him. "Because we have similar gifts, Rumplestiltskin. We're greenseers," he said with a soft smile.
Rumplestiltskin's eyes widened in surprise. "Greenseers?"
Jojen and Meera exchanged a knowing look before turning back to Bran Stark, who looked bewildered by the conversation. "There are others out there like us. We've been travelling for months to find you, Bran Stark."
Bran furrowed his brow. "I don't understand. Why me?"
Jojen placed a reassuring hand on Bran's shoulder. "That's what we're here to find out, Bran. To help you unlock your full potential and discover your true destiny. Come with us, and we will find the answers together."
Bran glanced over at Rumplestiltskin, who let out a resigned sigh. "It could be dangerous. You don't know who you will meet out there."
Jojen's expression turned steely. "We'll look out for him. Meera is an excellent fighter," he said confidently.
Rumplestiltskin nodded reluctantly. "Be careful," he said. "And take your direwolf with you. But if you need help, say my name three times, and I'll come to you, okay?"
Bran nodded, and Hodor picked up Bran's wagon. The wagon creaked as Jojen, Meera, and Summer, Bran's direwolf, joined them. With one last look at Winterfell, they set off into the unknown forests. The wind howled, carrying whispers of adventure and danger. Bran could feel his heart pounding with anticipation as he realised his life would change forever.
