The Dalyngridge Girl ➝ Bran Stark

Chapter 7

        The next day, Bran had treated Mare as if she was the most delicate and precious thing in the world. And in return, so did she.

        They were praying to the Old Gods in the Godswood, when a Wildling had walked to them.

        "So you're the two that this place was left to?" she asked, and Mare could hear the sound of chains at her feet. Mare looked over and nodded, brushing out her cloak of nonexistent dirt.

        "They're answerin' you, boy," she said to Bran, putting her hand on the tree.

        "How do you know?" Bran asked, turning.

        "They're my Gods too."

        They sat in silence, just the three of them. Luna had stayed in today; she was visiting the orphaned children of Winterfell, because that's all she could do to try and ease Robb's absence.

        There was a stomping against the ground, and a man emerged from the bushes.

        With no clothes.

        "Hodor," he said, and Mare looked at Bran because she couldn't help but feel a tad bit uncomfortable.

        It was the first time that Mare realized and done this with Bran; they talked with their eyes, just like Robb and Luna had. After a few seconds Bran nodded and said, "Hodor, go find some clothes, go dress yourself."

        "He's got giant's blood in 'im!" the Wildling girl said, her smile stretching widely across her face.

        "Hodor," Hodor said, turning and running back into the bushes.

        "Are there Giants beyond the wall?" Bran asked, curiosity lacing his voice.

        "Much worse," she said, "there are much worse things than Giants beyond that wall."

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        "It had three eyes, and it told me to come with it down to the Crypts, so I did," Bran explained. Osha, which had been the name of the Wildling woman, had Bran on her shoulders, and Luna was walking beside Mare. "And my father was there."

        "Your father isn't down in the Crypts, Little Lord," Osha said, calling Bran by her new affectionate nickname. That's where they were all walking to; the Crypts. Luna had never seen them, and Bran wanted to make sure that his father hadn't magically appeared down there over night.

        "But how can a crow have three eyes, Bran?" Mare asked, scrunching up her nose. "Was it just born wrong?"

        "It very well could be, Little Lady," Osha said to Mare. It was funny that Osha nicknamed them like that: Little Lord and Little Lady. It made her feel a sense of comfort and reassurance, and the worst part was, she had no idea why.

        Osha stopped right in front of the Crypt entrance, her hands shaking slightly.

        "Osha, are you okay?" Luna asked her, placing a hand on her shoulder. Luna had bags under her eyes and her voice sounded tired to Mare; she had been up all night worrying about Robb, even though he was fully capable of protecting himself.

        "Yes, I'm fine," Osha said, nodding once.

        "You've lived beyond The Wall! What are you afraid of?" Bran asked incredulously. "I'm a crippled boy and I'm willing to go."

        Osha, with a deep breath, entered the Crypts, with Mare and Luna at her heels.

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