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It was quite possibly their last night in a world they could call their own. Death is coming, the Long Night is here once more, and there was little else any of the living could do about it but wait. All any of the people inside Winterfell could do was wait. Wait, pray, drink, fuck. Hope that after it was all over, the same sun rose up into the sky to welcome them like a victorious army walking back home.
As she stared at the starless night, she couldn't help but laugh mirthless. Even the night knew not to watch the ensuing battle. She lifted her chin, looking towards Bran who was seated beside the Weirwood in silence.
"If the Gods do truly exist, then we will walk out of this battle alive," Driysa said, standing up to walk towards Bran, "And if they do not, it will be me that makes sure you survive,"
Driysa felt Bran's hand grasp hers, pulling her into his lap as he continued to stare at the Weirwood tree as though it would suddenly give him all the answers to the universe.
"This is all because of me," Bran said softly, as though he feared others would overhear, "I was so certain of my powers, I let the Night King breach the wall, I let him mark me,"
"You didn't know the limits to your power. This isn't your fault," Driysa told him harshly, grabbing his chin and moving his face, so he had to look deep into her eyes. Finally, she softened, "He would have found a way somehow,"
"I thought I was beyond the limits of his perceptions, of his grasp," Bran said sorrowfully, casting his gaze downwards as Driysa let go of his chin.
The two sat in silence, the world around them melting away.
"Have you... have you seen anything in your visions. About tonight?" Driysa finally asked, breaking through the silence like a spear through glass.
"No, I wish I could. Every time I get close," Bran trailed off, looking at Driysa helplessly, "The vision ends. It's like I'm being locked out of a room,"
"How close can you get?"
"Up until now," Bran admits, "Up until I do this,"
He grabs the side of your face with his calloused palm and tilts your head down to meet his lips. You can practically see his fear materialising, how terrified he is of the coming battle—terrified of the unknown, terrified of her unknown fate. His fingers were shaking as they held her face but only slightly. Driysa waits as tears rim Bran's eyes, unable to do more than stare at her as he tries to take in her every detail.
Finally, it's Driysa that pulled him closer as she sat on his lap—pulling his waist so he would be forced to straighten up and bring his face closer to hers. Dipping her head to kiss him, she pulls back for a second. A smile was lingering on her lips as she double-checked Bran was alright.
Bran pulled her back, melting into her, as his fingers gently slid down the side of her face and to her neck. His mouth was warm and soft against her colder, chapped lips.
Her hands slid down to the bottom of his shirt, but before she could do anything an uncomfortable cough rung out through the Godswood.
Driysa chuckled, placing her head on Brans shoulder. While Sansa's friend, Theon, wasn't here yet, the warriors he had brought with him were. She'd almost forgotten, with the way they had blended into the shadows.
"So, where will we go after all of this?" Bran asked, fixing her position on her lap, "North of the Wall again? I think there is a giant wall near it that's unoccupied,"
"I go wherever you go," Driysa said softly.
"You always have," Bran acknowledged, lacing his hands with hers, "Maybe it's time for me to go wherever you go,"
Brans love for Driysa never wavered, just as hers never did for him. They had become entwined souls, their fate always rested with the other. Driysa could never image a day without him, even if it meant she would have to go South of the South. She was willing to go anywhere for him, she had been doing it for so long she'd never imagined the possibility that he could always just follow her. It was a nice thought.
Driysa smiled, pressing her lips to his. Drawing away, she looked around the Godswood in wonderment of where the two of them could run off to.
"We'd have to be close to your family, and the Godswood," Driysa said, smiling as she looked at the castle walls nearby, "We could live just outside the walls. I could hunt, you could ride on horseback with that contraption you used to tell me about,"
"That would be nice," Bran smiled at her, "We could get a dog too,"
Driysa laughed, nodding her head at the thought, "Summer, the second of her name,"
"Summer, the second of her name," Bran agreed.
The sound of horns broke through their pleasant night, Driysa practically jumping out of Brans lap as she grabbed her spear and the dragon-glass dagger she had laid on the ground. Turning in a circle, she noticed all of Theon's men were readying their weapons.
"Are you ready, Lady Driysa?" Theon called, hurrying towards her with his bow, "Hopefully we won't see the battle get this far,"
"It can try," Driysa said, almost threateningly as she gripped her spear.
"And he will," Bran said darkly.
Driysa turned to him, placing a hand on his thigh, she leaned in for a final kiss on the forehead. An unspoken goodbye passing between them, both hoping they would finish the battle standing beside one another.
"I'll be here the whole time," Driysa promised, beginning to move towards Theons group so she could receive her instructions, "Until the end,"
