The Iron Thorn | Theon Greyjoy

32.

Massey

"Rickon, be careful," I warned as he ran uncomfortably close to Theon, who stood shooting arrow after arrow at one of the targets. 

   "Sorry," he grumbled insincerely as he brought himself to my side.

   I reached out and placed my arm around his shoulder. "It's alright. Why don't you study with Bran?"

   He listened, circling around the table that his brother and maester sat at. The lesson was going decently well, Bran working through studying some of the more well known houses, until Maester Luwin seemed to strike a nerve. Bran's attitude was souring quickly.

"Family, duty, honor."

"Those are Tully words," Maester Luwin corrected. "Your mother's. Are we playing a game?"

"Family, duty, honor," he repeated. "Is that the right order?"

"You know it is."

"Family comes first?"

"Your mother had to leave Winterfell to protect the family," Luwin reminded him.

"How can she protect the family if she's not with the family?"

"Your mother sat by your bed for three weeks while you slept."

"And then she left," Bran interrupted, finally vocalizing what he was really thinking.

Luwin took in a short breath. "When you were born, I was the one who pulled you from your mother. I placed you in her arms. From that moment until the moment she dies, she will love you. Absolutely. Fiercely."

"Why did she leave?" Bran asked much more gently, carving lines into the table with a metal figure made into the Tully fish. I felt my heart twitch. He was a strong child, but a child nonetheless.

"I still can't tell you, but she will be home soon."

"Do you know where she is now? Today?"

"No, I don't," Maester Luwin sighed.

"Then how can you promise me she'll be home soon?"

"Sometimes I worry you're too smart for your own good."

Bran ignored what Luwin had said, instead looking to Theon as he pulled the string on his bow again. "I'll never shoot another arrow."

Bran had dreamed of being a knight before his fall, and now I'm not sure he dreamed at all. That's why his words struck my heart in such a way that I had half a mind to reach out and stop Theon from shooting anymore, so as to not inadvertently taunt Bran, but I didn't. Instead, I turned around to join in the conversation.

"And where is that written?" Luwin asked.

"You need legs to work a bow," Bran answered longingly.

"If the saddle Lord Tyrion designed actually works, you could learn to shoot a bow from horseback."

"He's right," I chimed in, looking down at Bran.

"Really?"

"Dothraki boys learn when they're four years old," Maester Luwin answered. "Why shouldn't you?"

Bran's eyes seemed to flicker with hope at the thought. He stopped fighting the lesson Maester Luwin was trying to give. After it was over, I asked how his injury was healing.

"Alright, I suppose. I can't feel it either way," he shrugged. I smiled just slightly, and he returned my look.

"It's healing just fine," Luwin answered for him.