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❝ The crow that mimics a cormorant gets drowned. ❞
━━━━ "𝐃𝐎𝐍'𝐓 𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐍 𝐓𝐎 𝐈𝐓," Old Nan instructed Bran as a crow sat on his windowsill, watching him with its beady black eyes. "Crows are liars. I have a story about a crow." To Bran, it felt as if it were taunting him for not being able to walk, and that it could fly high above the clouds if need be.
"I hate your stories," Bran replied. The dream Bran had dreamt was nefarious, a dream where he felt as if he were flying, but then began to fall out of the sky and was now in the position he's in.
"I know a story about a boy who hated stories," Old Nan was the oldest living person in Winterfell, living past many harsh winters, and now brought in as Bran's nurse until Catelyn gets back. She's told many stories to all the Stark children, Theon included, but she has yet to see Vhaehrys, who seemed to be busy at all times of the day ever since Bran had fallen. "I could tell you about Ser Duncan the Tall. Those were always your favorites." Ser Duncan the Tall (also known as Dunk to close friends) had been a former hedge knight (a knight without a master), and former member of the Kingsguard. He lived many decades ago and befriended Egg, a young Targaryen prince who would later be known as Aegon V.
"Those weren't my favorites," Bran shook his shaggy head. "My favorites were the scary ones."
"Oh, my sweet summer child," Old Nan sighed. "What do you know about fear? Fear is for the winter, when the snows fall a hundred feet deep. Fear is for the long night, when the sun hides for years and children are born and live and die all in darkness. That is the time for fear, my little Lord, when the White Walkers move through the woods. Thousands of years ago there came a night that lasted a generation. Kings froze to death in their castles, same as the shepherds in their huts. And women smothered their babies rather than see them starve, and wept and felt the tears freeze on their cheeks. So is this the sort of story that you like? In that darkness, the White Walkers came for the first time. They swept through cities and kingdoms, riding their dead horses, hunting with their packs of pale spiders big as hounds. . ."
Robb walks in, interrupting the old woman's story, "What are you telling him now?"
"Only what the little Lord wants to hear."
"Get your supper. I want some time with him," she walks out, leaving the brothers alone, and once the door closes, Robb tells Bran something. "One time she told me the sky is blue because we live inside the eye of a blue-eyed giant named Macumber."
"Maybe we do."
"How do you feel? You still don't remember anything? I've seen you climb a thousand times. In the wind, in the rain. . ." Robb was troubled at the thought of his brother falling all those feet to the ground where they saw him laying motionless. "A thousand times. You never fall." Bran's heart failed a bit, and whispered, "I did though. It's true, isn't it. . . what Maester Luwin says about my legs? I'd rather be dead."
