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Driysa felt like a ghost at times.
There was silence in her soul and a chill in her blood that made her wonder whether she was truly alive, or just living through the halls of dead lords and ladies. It was at night time that she felt the most alone, running through those dreary halls, looking, always looking in the blackness that surrounded her mind for the sacred spark that would connect her to the world again. The noises of the world, the happiness and glee of the northerners, drowned her mind from her task to find the one - the one who stood in the dark for her. Whether he was barely a fragment of fire, hardly a cinder slowly burning, it mattered little to Driysa. That spark of fire, her Bran, would alight her soul and let her come back to the world of the living.
Without Meera, without Jojen and Summer and Hodor, she felt the only thing she had left was Bran. He was her connection to the world. As she was his only line connecting him to his real world, a world outside the Three-Eyed Raven. Without her, he would fall into the shadows of the Three-Eyed Raven and lose all semblance of himself outside the great seer. In some twisted line of fate, the two grounded each other.
No matter how much Driysa wished Bran could be a wilding, he was not. Bran Stark was a Lord of Winterfell, and he was required elsewhere without her now that they were south of the wall. Bran had many expectations set upon him, many Driysa herself didn't understand, but she knew too well how many of those expectations and duties had to be carried out without her presence.
In those times, Driysa found herself drawn toward the Godswood. It was one of the few places that reminded her of the North. Sometimes, when she closed her eyes tight enough, she could smell the wildness of the North waiting for her to return.
It was only temporary, and when her mind returned to the Godswood, she remembered Bran waiting for her in the castle. This would be her new home.
"Apologise for disrupting you, Lady Driysa,"
A frown danced on her face at the label, not bothering to turn to the call and instead kept her head watching the pond in front of her.
The man, a tall and spindly-looking lord, sat beside her in silence. The act caused Driysa to scowl, only imagining what sort of southern nonsense was swirling through the Lord's small brain.
The silence stretched out between them, growing larger and more noticeable the longer Driysa refused to acknowledge the man's existence.
"I wanted to thank you, for helping Bran Stark find his way home," The man smiled at her, "I am a very close friend of his mother, and I did fear for his safety so far from home,"
"And who are you?" Driysa said crassly, finally turning to look at the man.
"Lord Baelish, my lady," The man introduced himself, holding out his hand to kiss hers. When it became clear Driysa wasn't going to allow him to do any of the sort, he smiled charismatically and lowered his hand, "I could never imagine a Wildling doing something of the sort for a prince,"
"Why would I care what you think?" Driysa said, turning back to look at the pond.
"Oh, I would never assume," Baelish told her with the same smile, "I was just wondering when you would be leaving?"
Driysa glanced sideways at him but didn't speak.
"Well, Bran will likely be King of the North, considering he's the only true-born male Stark left," Baelish continued, as Driysa noticed his smile never reached his eyes, "And to do that, he must marry a lady. It's his duty,"
Driysa stayed silent, swallowing the lump in her throat as she tried to clear her screaming mind.
"I know it's all new to you, but Kings marry ladies, if not other Queens," Baelish kept speaking, as images of Driysa bashing his face against the stone flashed through her mind, "It's what Bran would truly want, he's not Wildling like you after all. You couldn't expect him to choose you now that he's back home. Can you?"
Her heart felt as though it had been placed in a cage. A cage that was getting smaller and smaller, shrinking as it tried to squeeze her heart entirely. Her breath felt caught in the back of her throat, as the squeezing on her heart prevented her from breathing deeply. Driysa had never felt such raw feelings before, her mind feeling like it was closing in on her as she tried to calm herself.
"That means nothing to me," Driysa said calmly, breaking the silence that had filled up the Godswood.
Her eyes, however, portrayed a very different story as she stood up and turned away from Baelish, who was watching her with intense glee. She stood her ground, all of her power focused on trying to prevent her hands from shaking in the sight of Baelish. Taking steps forward was hard enough for her, feeling the ground call for her to fall into it. She kept walking, however, walking out of sight of the Lord as she felt pathetic tears escape her eyes. Brushing them away, she took as deep a breath as she could handle.
Looking up at the castle in front of her, she felt her legs sway from underneath her, holding onto the wall beside her as she was left to wonder. Bran Stark was a Lord. She was not. Was it truly that simple?
On God, I have decided I'm gonna finish this.
Don't ask how it correlates but I watched a bunch of Nancy and Jonathan edits on tiktok and decided I had to finish this. I have the epilogue, final chapter and the chapter after this planned. I just have to figure out how to get there.
But also, everyone who comments on this book and expresses their love for it is the reason I decided to keep going as well. Those small notifications stayed in the back of my head as a reminder to finish this for you guys. See you soon! (Also, if you love love but also angsty love, look for my Harry Potter fic cause I've already written 56 chapters ready to upload so you won't have to wait as long for those)
