Chapter 19

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        "The sky is blue," Mare said in monotone, "and the pine needles are very green."

        "Mare, you forgot the most obvious one," Bran snickered, "the air is invisible."

        "Oh, thanks, wise, noble Lord Stark," Mare said sarcastically, nocking her bow and shooting at a tree. She whistled and Shaggydog came running ahead of them, grabbed the arrow out of the tree, and brought it back to her in his mouth.

        "I wish I had a direwolf," she muttered, "they're like friends that don't talk back to you."

        And they walked in silence for a while. Mare had nothing to say, so she continued to shoot her bow, and Shaggydog, and now Summer, would go and fetch the arrows, yipping playfully.

        "Mare," Bran asked, and she turned around, still walking, to face him.

        "Yes, Bran?"

        "What do you suppose the Wall will be like? Are you excited for Castle Black?" Bran asked her. She had to give him credit; he tried to start up a conversation in an awkward time, and he didn't sound the least bit weary or out of place.

        "I'm a bit skeptical about the wall, but excited for Castle Black. I can't wait to see Jon..." Then she trailed off , remembering Jojen's vision.

        "Hodor," Hodor said affectionately, trying to give a small, weak smile to Mare. She returned it.

        "Yes, Hodor, I know," she said glumly, packing away her arrows and slinging her bow over her shoulder.

        Osha looked at her with knitted eyebrows. "Don't worry little Lady, by the time we get there, hopefully everything will be sorted out."

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~

        "Why does he get to sit around while we do all the heavy lifting around here?" Osha muttered, nailing one of the spikes for the tent into the ground. Hodor was helping while Meera got firewood, and Bran and Jojen were talking about everything from the Wall to the three-eyed raven. Mare sat alone on the outskirts of the camp with Summer, and Shaggydog was off with Rickon by a stream in the woods.

        Mare didn't want any part of any conversation, she just wanted to be alone. Cramps had started kicking in, and her head was pounding and all she wanted to do was sleep. If this is what bleeding was like, she told herself, she wanted absolutely nothing to do with it.

        Summer nudged her arm with his nose, signalling her to look up from carving details into her Northern rose. She was Bran looking at her from across camp, and Summer whined softly.

        "No, Summer, not now," Mare muttered, "I feel like a pile of horse shit, and I am not moving unless I absolutely have to."

        Summer whined again and put his head on Mare's leg, and before she knew it, she was drifting off into a sleep that she couldn't believe came upon her.

        She saw her mother, her father, and her brother, all happy and laughing and acting as if nothing in the world could bring them down. It didn't feel like a dream to her, no, it was a memory. Her mother, with long, blonde hair running in waves down her back and a kind smile that could melt even the sun; her father with Northern brown hair and grey eyes as light as smoke billowing from a fire. Her brother, who had just turned four, running around them with a wooden sword, hitting any plant he saw. She was happy; she felt as if nothing could happen to her; nothing evil could touch her.

        The scene changed to fire. Huts were burning down, dead bodies littered the small streets of her village, Northern men from Winterfell fighting other men that Mare couldn't recognize. Screams echoed off the walls of her mind, and in another scenery change, the bodies of her mother, father, and brother lay in front of her in a heap. Blood covered them all, the stench so unbrearable that Mare got sick.

        Trees appeared in the background, along with the unmistakable caw of a raven. But it wasn't any raven; this one had-

        Mare woke up gasping for air. It was dark by now, and someone had brought her to the fire where everyone else was. She felt several people by her side, and a hand brushed hair out of her face.

        "Are you okay?" she heard Jojen ask, and he crouched next to her. She breathed heavily, her eyes wide. What did her dream mean?

        "I saw something," she gasped out, "something that I had never, ever seen before."

        Everyone exchanged glances before Bran spoke. "What did you see?"

        "My mother and father and brother, all dead in front of me. My village, it was burning and Stark men were fighting other men. I hadn't seen any of that, I took my brother as far away as I could before one of the men that invaded caught us and killed my brother, and I was hurt by a Stark knight."

        "Mare, what else was in your dream?" Jojen asked slowly, and all eyes were on her.

        She spoke, her voice trembling. "The three-eyed raven."

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