NOTE: Hello!

SO after weeks of readjustment, editing the editing, I FINALLY can publish a new chapter!
You might notice if you ever feel like reading me again, that the previous chapters have been edited again, one final time, with the help of my dear friend Jess without whom I would have died by now! You are a Queen and I bow to the!
There is no guarantee that the rhythm will go back to what it was but at this point, it's unavoidable XD I'm afraid I am now one of those authors with a chaotic schedule... my sincere apologies.

Chapter 21: The things you can't prevent

Last Week of the fourth Month of the Year 298

Winterfell

Kyria Stark

The Broken Tower looked almost ethereal in the dying light of the day. Intimidating with her broken edges, used by the time and the harsh weather of the North. Standing in front of it, Kyria wondered, once again, what she had missed.

Bran's silhouette falling down, the noise in her head, voices talking through each other. The panic boiling her veins when she ran to stop him. She needed to understand. She couldn't keep on suffering this thing.

The steps were old and worn out. Stones, then wood, the higher she climbed. Old, but recently used. Her heart jumped to her throat, as she was more certain by the minute that there had been someone up there.

She wasn't sure where to look. Despite being broken, there was more than one room in the broken tower. All abandoned, of course, but they did exist. Kyria took her time, examining every one of them meticulously. But there was nothing, not that she expected otherwise.

Finally, after two long hours and as the light of the day was almost completely gone, she reached the last room, the one with the hole in the roof, and the broken stones all around. She knew, if there was something to find, it had to be here. It was by that window that she saw something. Or, maybe not?

No. There was something. She wasn't blind, nor had she been dreaming that shivering white fabric floating in the cold wind.

She slowly made her way into the last room. The air was chilling, the cold of the night already creeping through the old stones. The room was as empty as the rest of the tower, but something seemed… different.

She walked around, slowly, steadily. The wooden floor had been enduring the wind, the rain, and the snow for decades. There was nothing that would say how long it would last before collapsing under the tiniest pressure. And Kyria with her newly filled figure was far from Arya's light feet. It took her an awfully long time to notice what was wrong. The debris of wooden planches and other pieces of what once was the ceiling had been pushed. Recently. The vines growing through the walls were… broken in some places, close to where she suspected the pushing happened. It could be an animal. Or it could be something else. She cursed herself for not going here earlier, for the dark had almost completely fallen upon them and there was far too little light to see everything. With a beating heart, she finally dared to approach the surprisingly large window.

The sight of the yard, so far down below, made her dizzy. To think Bran almost climbed this high… how could he even endure the height! She would never do that…

"Well, well, well, another Starkling I suppose?"

BURN THEM ALL

ON WHAT RIGHT?!

Nothing else matter-

Are you completely mad?

Protect the innocent

Defend the King

The KingkingkingkingKING Defend the King!

So many oaths

In the name of the FatherMotherMaidenWarrior I charge you

Charge you chargeyouCHARGE YOU

Defend Protect

Swear

Oath

OathkeeperOathbreakerOathkeeper OathbreakerOathkeeper Oathkeeper Oathbreaker

Oathbreaker

KINGLSAYER!

You are mine We are one. We belong together

She's a Monster. So am I

So am I So am I SOAMISOAMISOAMISOAMI Monster

Monster MONSTER

ON WHAT RIGHT?!

"Hey!"

Everything faded to black. Her leg gave out, her head bobbled, too heavy for her neck. She was falling. Falling. A brief moment of panic made her realize where she still was, how the wind was still hitting her face, how large and close the window was. But nobody answered.

Kyria was scared. She was going to die. She was going to fall. Ohgodsit'snotBranit'sme

I don't wanna die!

It stopped. The breath caught in her throat was pushed through her mouth and she caught around it. Her body was heavy, as if the floor, the earth under the tower was calling for her, dragging her down, down into the blissful unconscious.

In the sea of black, she was surrounded by two strong armored arms that pushed her against the cold metal of a breastplate.

"Easy here, my lady."

The voice forced another wave of voices inside her mind and Kyria tried–tried!–to push them away, to look, to see who was responsible for such a strong reaction. Through her heavy eyelids, she saw piercing cat-green eyes, looking back at her worriedly. Golden hair haloing the most handsome face she'd seen in her young life. White cape, golden armor.

Jaime Lannister

If possible, seeing him seemed to be even worse than hearing. The voice flashed with images of that face, beaten, older, lined, sad, desperate, angry, determined, and finally, for a brief second, dead, cold, and dusty, like old rocks crumbling. Things changed faster than she could follow, dead, then alive, hair longer, shorter, in the snow, in the desert, alone, with someone. She couldn't follow. She couldn't focus.

"Are you alright?" he asked and she moaned at the pain his voice crushed through her skull.

Then, just like her falling, it stopped. As if the voices and images decided on something, and everything stopped moving inside her head. Only his face remained, watching her as he stood up. Her limp body in his strong, armored arms. With one last flash of the sun on his somehow covered face, everything was over.

"Jaime Lannister…"

He blinked and adjusted her weight in his arms.

"Are you feeling alright?"

"I- don't know."

Her eyes closed themselves and she let go. She heard him call, she heard things around her, but she couldn't focus on anything. She couldn't do anything. She was powerless and so, so tired.

When Ser Jaime's voice stopped, her body moved. It took her a while to understand where. He was carrying her. Her eyes remained closed and her head too heavy to form any words.

Still, as he slowly climbed down the tower, the pressure was building in her mouth. Pushing her teeth and lips. She tried to push back, too afraid of what could come out of her mouth. For a moment it worked. But then Ser Jaime adjusted her again in his arms and the jolt forced her mouth open.

"Ser Jaime…"

He stopped.

"How are you feeling? You gave me quite a fright. I am sure your father would have killed me had I let you fall from that tower." The snarkiness of his voice brushed through her like a breeze.

Her fingers gripped the cold plate of his shoulder.

"..the path is yours to take. No one else can judge your story as long as it carries on. Smiling…or Mourning… yours to make."

"What nonsense are you mumbling? Let me take you to your Maester."

"No… Robb. No Maester… Robb."

She tried to say something else, but the call of the earth seemed even harder to ignore. She closed her mouth and let the muscles of her neck relax. Robb… She needed to talk to Robb.

She didn't remember much after that. The pain of her cheek while it kept bumping against the sharp edge of the link attaching his armor to the cloak. How pressed her legs were against each other, pushed by the stiffness of her dress as it stuck within the bend of his elbow, where armor met armor.

After a while, she vaguely heard another voice, muffled by the cotton that seemed to inhabit her ears. She then was transferred from one armored set of arms to another armorless set. She recognized after a while her brother's familiar scent and timber of voice.

"...happened?"

"...Broken Tower…almost fell….Welcome."

Everything was fuzzy and tiring. She didn't want to focus. Sleep was so much better. Yes, she needed to rest. Just for a little-

GOT

She awoke in her own bed, she didn't know how much time later, with the most painful headache known in the history of headaches. With a painful groan she turned around, hoping to block any sound or light that would have the potentiality to make it worse.

"Kyria?"

She groaned again. Robb shifted on whatever he was sitting on and Kyria moved her head to peek at him through her unmade hair, accidentally pulling a lock with her elbow in the process.

Ouch!

Another groan. Robb huffed. A moment later a cold hand pressed against her brow.

"I managed to push away Maester Luwin and Mother for now. What happened?" he whispered, much to her relief.

She moaned again and pulled the hair stuck under her. This was why she never slept with her hair loose. As much as she loved her long luscious locks, having to wiggle like a fish out of water to avoid having them stuck under her bottom was not an activity she favored.

"How did I end up here?"

"Are you answering my question with your own question?"

She glared and pulled her hair over one of her shoulders, promptly starting to braid them away from any other potential accident.

"I don't remember going back to my room."

Robb frowned, but she chose to ignore his displeasure. After a while, he seemed to give up and agreed to explain what happened.

"Jaime Lannister found me outside of the Godswood… after-" he blushed furiously and Kyria refused to think of the why. He looked down, obviously uncomfortable but still managed to carry on with his tale. "You were unconscious in his arms, gave me quite the fright. He said you had some kind of attack or something. He wasn't very precise on the details. Said you just… fell. He didn't say much, he looked… I don't really know, disturbed? Troubled."

Troubled?

Things slowly came back to her as she listened. The tower, yes, she remembers someone talking to her in the Tower. Then…

"I had a vision."

Robb looked up.

"What?"

"Like I did when we were riding. It was… I couldn't control it. He said something and suddenly there were all those… images in my head. Jumping from one to the other inside my head, I couldn't-"

"Kyria."

She stopped her breath fast and hands shaking. She squeezed her hair between her hands tightly. The voices, there had been so many voices, inside her head. The simple memory of it-

"I'm fine."

"Are you certain?"

"Yes. It is done now. Over. It was… more intense than anything I've experienced so far while still awake. But it's over."

"What did you see?"

She was startled by the question. She shouldn't be of course, it was normal of him to wish to know, considering everything… "Tell me what else happened."

"With Lannister?"

Kyria's fingers dropped their tight squeeze with a shaking spasm. She groaned and went through the already braided part of her hair, pulling away the parted hair to start over again.

Robb observed the hypnotic motion of her hand braiding her thick hair back into something manageable and Kyria refrained from saying anything else, despite the impatient need to think of something other than the voices in her head. "Nothing much. He said you asked for me and put you in my arms, then he left."

Kyria nodded absentmindedly, her eyes following the motion of her hands as she kept on braiding the thick locks of hair. She was midway now, maybe this time she was going to finish it and finally free herself from the trouble of having to sleep tangled in her hair.

"Kyria, can you tell me what you saw?"

She sighed and knotted the locks tighter.

"I don't know. It was… confusing. I think he was talking for most of it. His voice said things… but it didn't sound like a conversation or anything like that. More like, pieces of things he could end up saying one day. Important things."

"Important things?"

She knotted the end of her braid and pushed her hands on her laps.

"I assume as much," she confessed, "Why else would I have those words in my head? They had to mean something, to have an importance. But I do not know what it is. Only…"

"Only?"

"I told you, I've never had a vision like that before. It was as if… it kept moving from one point to another. It felt… undecided. Like all the different directions this future could take were pushed into one single moment. One decision he had to take. Or maybe it was my decision… I don't know. But the last thing…"

"Go on."

"The last thing I saw was a patch of cloth. Hiding something."

Robb frowned. Kyria looked back down, confusion fuzzing her head. This made no sense. The visions never truly did, there was always something impossible or absurd. But this time was even worse. She didn't get it. Why was it him who striked such a strong reaction? Why him? Was it the gods telling her something? Sending her a message she couldn't understand?

This day couldn't have been more charged emotionally. First Bran and now this.

Bran.

Suddenly it came back to her. Her big achievement. The reason why she was in this tower to begin with.

"Robb… I think I saved Bran."

His head bobbed back up so quickly a painful crack from the bones of his neck made her wince.

"Bran? What do you mean?"

"Do you remember the odd one? The vision of Bran."

"Yes, the one where Bran talked to you. What of it?"

"He was in a chair. It had wheels, like a carriage," she explained slowly. "And I had this… this other one, where I saw something fall from a tall tower. I think it was Bran… I think he couldn't walk anymore in the vision, the one where he talked to me."

Robb paled.

"What? But how-"

"You know how Robb, don't be absurd."

"But he never fell. Not once."

"That doesn't mean he won't someday. There might be a thousand reasons for him to fall one way or another, and you know it."

"Yes. But still…"

She pressed his hand. "That's the thing though. Today I had it again."

"What, another vision?"

"Not exactly more like… I felt like it was about to happen. And I stopped it."

With their fingers clasped, Kyria explained in great detail every single second of this experience, what she thought happened, what it felt like, how it all happened and how she ended up running as fast as she could behind Summer to arrive on time. When she was done, Robb looked perplexed.

"I assume you didn't find a thing in the tower before Ser Jaime's arrival?"

"No. Though it seemed like someone had been pushing things around. But I can't be certain…"

Robb nodded.

"Do you truly think there was someone?"

Kyria nodded. "I know what I saw."

He sighed and rubbed his eyes.

"We will never know, I suppose. At least Bran is alright and nothing truly bad happened tonight. We shouldn't focus on anything else for now."

"Yes. You realize what it means Robb?"

"Hm?" he stopped in the middle of standing up, non doubt so he could leave her to rest.

With everything else dealt with, Kyria finally allowed the joy she felt bubbling inside to burst out of her in a radiant smile.

"I stopped something. Robb, I can act on these visions! I am not powerless!"

"Aye… seems like you did."

"If I can stop this from happening… maybe- Maybe it is the reason why I have this gift! Maybe I am supposed to stop them, to change them!"

"Kyria-"

"No, it makes sense! It has to be the reason why this all happened."

"We can't be sure."

"Can't we? Why else would I have to watch people die and get hurt night after night? What other reason could there be for me to endure this Robb?"

He shushed her softly, grabbing her animated hands with his in a way to calm her raising temper.

"I am as hopeful as you are about this Kyria. But I think caution is still our best course of action."

"Why?"

"Kyria, you told me yourself. This vision of Bran was warning you. Don't you think it is necessary to take it into consideration?"

Her enthusiasm deflated as fast as it had risen. He wasn't wrong per se, the Bran of her vision did try to warn her of something.

Some things need to happen.

I need to stop being Bran Stark.

You can't stop it.

But she did. She knew she did.

She had to. The alternative was too much to bear.

GOT

Bran was punished and spent the two following days being tailed by Jory Cassel. Father didn't say much about it, but Mother was immensely displeased and didn't bother hiding it. In the middle of this little drama, the Royal family sashayed through the dark corridors of the Keep, in barely veiled disdain for half of them, when there was no drunken stupor or lustrous investigations. Though these quiet days allowed Kyria to establish more firmly her opinion on the two younger royal children as soft, sweet souls very attached to one another and surprisingly reserved and secret for such young children.

Kyria was more used to Arya's or Rickon's way of running through childhood with as much sound and joy and outburst as humanly possible under Lady Catelyn's thumb.

Those quiet days were very informative for Kyria. She got to observe all these new, interesting people and mentally dissect their reactions and interactions in ways she didn't get to do before then.

More often than not she would sit in a corner and watch silently. People rarely noticed her, strangely enough. She supposed having a book open in her lap and pretending to read made her look as innocent as one could while breathing the same air as… the Queen, for example.

She was an interesting character. Kyria always assumed that the political scene demanded from its actors some way to disguise what they truly felt, for the truth rarely led anywhere when power and influence were concerned. Saying the Queen was wearing her heart on her sleeve would have been a lie, but she was surprisingly bad at hiding what she truly felt about them.

She despised the North and everything it held. It was easy enough to see, and once seen, very hard to ignore. More than hate, she seemed to despise them with everything she had, which, for the Queen of the Seven Kingdoms, which included the North, didn't sit well with Kyria. She spendt most of the time with her ladies in waiting, her children, and her brother Jaime. Never Tyrion though. The hate she bore for her little brother was even more obvious than the one she had for the Starks. Kyria wondered why. They've never done anything to her. Though she might be one of those persons that despised other people just because they could.

Sometimes, when she was talking to Ser Jaime, Kyria found her… agitated. She was never close enough to hear what was actually said, but the loud voices and excessive gestures showed something complicated. Conflicted.

Ser Jaime was something else. She has taken great interest in him since their…meeting. He wasn't easy to find, or observe. Almost as if he was purposely making himself scarce. It wouldn't really surprise her, to be honest. She too would have wished to avoid her own company after what happened in the tower.

Among the many subjects of her passing study was Tyrion Lannister. Fascinating character.

He was intelligent, far more than what one would think at first sight. Yet he seemed to relish in being constantly underestimated. Making fun of people around him and commenting sarcastically on everything he found even slightly entertaining. Acting like a fool for those who didn't care looking beyond the obvious. Truly fascinating.

"Sometimes I wished we talked about all of this to Father."

Kyria looked up, startled. Robb pushed himself further into his own seat, arms crossed.

"What do you mean?"

"This!" He threw his arms in front of him, showing the mess of maps and books and flying pieces of parchment. They were playing one of the many games they came up with to boost up their education. It wasn't exactly a fun one per se, at least not always, but it had the advantage of forcing them–mostly Robb–to think of different ways to get themselves out of a situation in times of war.

The rules were simple. Kyria would choose a kingdom, and Robb another–he always chose the North, knowing he was fated to lead them one day–and they would fight each other. Early on, Kyria had made a little box inside of which was filled with pieces of paper. At a certain time in the game, she would pull a piece. Depending on when that was, the paper would concern her or Robb. It could be anything, a new ally, a betrayal, the death of a king, a wedding, or anything else. The objective was for one of them to win. There was no time limit and no other rule than to follow and take into account what was written in the papers.

It was complicated and often required more than one sitting, but the game had the good taste to force Robb to think out of the box. Or rather, about what could come out of the box. All of the possibilities for the future, good or ill.

"Showing all of this to Father could at least be interesting," she conceded with a smile. "You could even play against him!"

Robb blanched rapidly.

"Are you mad? I would lose!"

"Yes, but at least you would learn something else. Admit it, playing against me isn't as challenging."

She had never been trained at this kind of thinking, not like Robb or Jon. All she knew, she copied from books and what Robb himself had done in previous games. It added very little challenge and as much as she tried to be smart and outthink everything, Robb was winning a little bit faster every time. It was, quite frankly, humiliating sometimes. But she carried on, with the idea that maybe, someday, those childish games could save his life.

"Do you want to call him in?"

"With the King following him around everywhere? No way. I've had enough of them during the hunt."

"That's not a nice way to speak of my beloved brother-in-law young lord!"

They both jumped out of their skin at the sound of that new unexpected voice from behind one of the tall shelves.

"Lord Tyrion!"

Kyria bowed nimbly, her eyes on the table.

"My lady, my lord. I wasn't expecting anyone in the library at this hour of the day."

"Which is why we are here, Lord Tyrion," smiled Robb.

He looked like a cat chasing a canary. Kyria wondered why.

"Are you really? And, pray tell, what are you doing? It looks… complicated." Tyrion's clever eyes were wandering around the papers and books spread around the table, what he could see of it anyway, with barely veiled curiosity.

"It's a game," burst Kyria with a flush, "A game we… we invented."

"A game, really?" enquired the little Lord.

He came closer and painfully slowly climbed onto a chair to observe what was truly going on at the table. For a second, Kyria thought of helping him, like she was used to doing for Rickon. She quickly stopped herself though. He wouldn't appreciate the gesture, and it would be awfully improper to treat an adult man like her little brother barely out of toddlerhood.

If he noticed, Lord Tyrion didn't react, he merely took a moment to examine the table.

"Are you planning a war, Lord Stark?" enquired the littlest Lannister with an edge on his voice.

Kyria wasn't sure if this was wariness or sarcasm.

"No my Lord, merely playing at war. This is a game my sister invented to help me and my brother Jon with our studies."

"Really? You did, my lady? I must confess I am intrigued. Pray, tell me, how is this game working?"

Kyria puffed her chest, proud of her little invention, and promptly explained the details to their new audience.

She explained the sides, the box with the pieces of paper, the use they had of the map, and the books spread all around them. Lord Tyrion listened with rapt attention, his eyes following every movement of her hands. When she was done, he hummed appreciatively.

"I see. What a clever way to learn how to kill people."

Robb coughed awkwardly.

"Men are particularly gifted in this area, my Lord, according to every History book I've ever read."

"That they are," confirmed the man with a twisted smile.

"Would you like to join us, my Lord?"

"I thought this game could only be played with two people?"

"Two sides my Lord," corrected Kyria with a thin smile, "But as Robb is destined and determined to always win against me in the most obviously humiliating way, maybe a little bit of help from a new adversary could change my fate."

Tyrion smiled.

"Isn't that cheating sister?" pouted Robb good naturally.

"All is fair brother, in war and love. And the end justifies the means, as they say."

The little lord laughed loudly, delighted by the cheek of the youngest Stark present. He accepted with enthusiasm to assist Kyria in her fake war against her brother and revealed himself to be a valuable ally and a surprisingly sharp military mind. That is until he started underestimating the young heir of the Stark name, who took great pleasure to correct him in his arrogance.

"I have to confess my lord, I am impressed," complimented the man with something like respect in his eyes.

Kyria couldn't have been more proud of her brother. And her efforts too, let's be honest.

"I've had far more practice than you my Lord," said brother protested humbly, pink dusting his cheeks.

"Nonetheless. And I must applaud the lady in the room for such an interesting game, I haven't had that much fun playing since childhood!"

The innuendo went completely over Kyria's head even if she did notice the brief glare Robb sent his way.

"Thank you, Lord Tyrion. It was a pleasure to be your partner for this game. You had a remarkable strategy."

"Not as remarkable as I would have hoped; your brother saw right through me I'm afraid."

Kyria smiled again.

"Now tell me, Lord Stark, was it your father who taught you so well? You have the making of a formidable general one day."

"Father taught us the basics. But Kyria insisted greatly on perfecting our education. She forced Jon and I into every book she could find on the subject to prepare us for every eventuality."

"Did she? How unexpected. Especially coming from such a well-bred lady."

The repartee Kyria had for the blond Lord got stuck in her throat as her eyes found the small window behind him. She paled.

"Kyria?"

"...Fire."

"What?"

The men looked around fearfully, non-doubt thinking she was talking about the library, but she threw herself at the window, her heart stuck in her throat. There, right below, one of the barns used to stock the grain for winter was burning.

The now-familiar cold chill ran through her back, ominous and terrifying in ways she couldn't describe. People were running around in panic, carrying water to try to douse the raging flames and save at least part of the barn.

"What in the seven hells is happening?!" squeaked Tyrion behind them.

"Oh no-"

Robb ran, the end of his sentence stuck in his throat. She was following him before long, ignoring the shaking of her limbs.

No, no, no, this couldn't be happening, this couldn't be happening! The cold chill in her veins turned into a burning heat as she stormed down the numerous steps of the library tower. Somewhere, a howl sent a shiver down her spine.

You can't stop it, sister.

Oh no. Oh no this couldn't happen!

"No-"

"Kyria?"

She passed Robb without any care for the words he seemed to want to say and ran faster. Another howl pierced the chaos growing in the yard. Something was wrong, something was happening and it was so so wrong!

The entire situation was painfully familiar, down to the rush she felt in her flesh to run faster, faster, to reach him in time, to just get there! She couldn't think clearly, she couldn't even put words on why she felt such urgency. It was impossible, it couldn't happen. This couldn't be about Bran, or anyone else, this had to be something else. Maybe the barn had something important inside, maybe she missed a detail, information, something!

You can't stop it Kyria

Shut up!

She could, she did, and she was going to do it again. There was no way for her to let anything happen to Bran or any other member of her family. It was her purpose, the reason why she fought so hard and suffered so much. This couldn't go wrong, she couldn't fail.

"Kyria! Wait! What are you doing?"

She ignored Robb again, just as she ignored everyone else around her. In the chaos of the outside world, her eyes finally caught the sight of the high flames raging. The smell hit her face with violence and took a cough out right out of her throat.

No!

The voices and noises and howls around her were cut off, smothered. She couldn't hear them anymore. She desperately tried to look, to see, to get a glimpse of the hope she desperately grabbed onto as people kept running around. A scream louder than the other warned her of the falling beams of the barn, finally collapsing under the strain of the fire. Guards, servants, and everyone else were panicking and she couldn't see clearly what was happening.

With each beating of her heart, her mind screamed for him, but she couldn't see!

Someone grabbed her. She looked at the hand, large and strong and patched with ink and- Robb. Why was he holding her like that? She tried to make him let go but he was stronger and started pulling back. No. He couldn't do that! She looked up. His lips were moving, he looked agitated. Didn't he get it? She had to do it again! She had to do-

This wasn't happening. It couldn't be.

Kyria!

Wolves ran past her, followed by Sansa, and Arya. Kyria struggled against Robb's grip. He needed to let go! To get off her back, to let her-

Finally, the fabric of her sleeve slipped through his hand like water and she ran again, closer to the chaos and right onto the wolves' heels. The noise was louder but she still couldn't hear a thing.

The light of the fire was burning her eyes, so bright in the greys of the yard, the stones, the North. People were louder up close. She felt like she was out of her own body, like in one of her visions, she couldn't bring herself to feel, to care for their panic. Even her own seemed alien suddenly, in the muted numbness of the muffled sounds.

A hand grabbed again, her wrist. She tried to take another step but the pressure on her arm was too strong. She might have screamed then.

Kyria Wait! The fire!

Kyria!

Stop her! Kyria Stop!

She knew! Didn't they get it!? She could feel the heat of the fire but it didn't matter! She had to get there! She had to!

You can't stop it

Shut up! I can! I CAN!

Maybe she sobbed. She had to carry on, she had to stop this. This couldn't be happening. Bran, she had to save Bran, he was all that mattered.

"Bran-" she coughed.

"What- Kyria!"

Robb again?

"Kyria step back!"

"No, I-"

The pressure on her arm dragged her back and she hit the person behind her. He kept pushing and she tried to push back.

Let it happen Kyria. You can't stop it now. You never could.

I COULD! I WOULD HAVE! YOU KNOW NOTHING! screamed her mind.

"Kyria stop! You're going to get hurt!"

The wolves ran back past them, snarling and howling in distress. Nymeria, Frost-

Summer. He was the loudest. Kyria screamed too. Summer, Summer!

"No."

Robb pushed and pressed her face against his doublet, shielding her from the heat and the smoke and the people and-

"Let go! Robb let me go!"

"No! You stay there!"

"Robb!"

Why was this happening? Why? She did everything! She stopped it she saved-

"There's someone here!" screamed a voice somewhere.

No!

"Robb let me go!"

"Stop this Kyria you'll kill yourself if you go there!"

"Let me go! I have to- I-"

She pushed one last time but he wouldn't move. She couldn't see and she needed to see, she had to see to check if- She had to be sure! Maybe it wasn't him maybe it-

Robb moved to allow someone else to pass and she saw. She screamed.

The burned fabric of a sleeve, the, even more, burned flesh hanging from a screaming Hodor's arms, like a dead limb. Small, so small flesh.

Summer howled mournfully, louder than ever before, like none of his siblings ever was. His litter surrounded him, they howled too and Kyria screamed.

This couldn't happen, this shouldn't happen. It was impossible, it couldn't-

Robb saw too. He gasped and pushed her head against his neck, shielding her again but it was too late.

Someone else screamed. Behind them. A familiar voice. Mother. Mother! Mother knew! She saw, just like Kyria! Oh, Mother…

"Don't look, Kyria, it's alright. It's going to be alright," Robb her. Lied to her.

He lied, he lied, he knew he did! Nothing was alright!

Nothing was stopped! Nothing was prevented! It was all for nothing! No gift, no destiny, no way! It was all for nothing! Why?! Why did it have to happen?! She tried! She tried so hard! WHY?!

You can't change it, sister. I have to stop being Bran Stark.

"BRAN!"

TBC

NOTE: So what do you think? Wanna kill me yet?

...Alright I shut up.
Please kudos and comments feed my soul! And if you want to yell at me I have a Discord server just for that! Come join us!
discord. gg/Tx 7PSgMA
See ya next time!