The Broken (Bran Stark x Reader)

Chapter 17: The Pack Survives

A hard knock echoed through the thick wooden door and bounced across the gray walls of your room. You lay in bed with your eyes open looking out the nearest window. With no response the knock came again. Once more, you do not answer.

"Are you in there My Lady?" Asks the handmaiden Sansa assigned to you. "Breakfast is ready, Lady Sansa asked me to retrieve you."

"I will be down shorty." You call out to her, but she does not waiver.

"Lady Sansa has asked me to accompany you down." She states.

"And I am telling you I will be down there shorty." You say with poison in your breath. There was a couple of moments of silence, then you heard her soft footsteps echo down the hallway until they disappeared entirely.

You continue to look out the window into the gray cloudy sky. The sun had not even breached the thick unforgiving winter clouds. This was the first morning you had seen what you were dreading the most. Snow. It had fallen as the day broke.

Your anxiety and fears overwhelmed your thinking. What will you do if this winter is the longest one of this generation? The Night King can't be far now. What if everyone dies? What if you die? Here, alone, in a place you never truly felt at home. You could fight, but you were no warrior. Yet, the image of you hiding away with the women and children brought you great shame to imagine. If you die, you'd like to think you died fighting the cold, not being consumed by it.

You take a deep breath to try and help combat the morning anxieties. This was the first of many battles you assumed would be lost. No matter how much you tried to take your mind off of it, the idea of death haunted you. You still saw the faces of all your friends calling out for help you couldn't give them. Only now, you began to see your face too. Screaming.

With all the horrific dreams that consumed you while you slept, the only reason you were able to even attempt it at this point was the dragon dreams. They had finally returned to you. It may have been how your mind coped with all the stress. Those dreams were the only time you felt at ease. Flying through the warm desert with no destination in mind. You had never warged before, but this was the only word you could use to describe how it felt to be in that body. To feel what it had felt. For the sun to pierce your skin with glorious heat only for you to awake to the fall of snow. It wasn't just a dream to you. It was the only thing that truly felt real at this point.

You knew Sansa would be angry at you for sending her handmaiden away. For not letting her dress and comb your hair. Ladies had people do that for them. You weren't sure how you'd continue to get away with doing it all yourself, but you intended to do it as long as you could. It seemed to be the last thing in your life you had control over. You were sick of people telling you what to do, when to do it, and how it all should be done. Your hair and clothes were the very last thing you had that could slightly resemble who you are.

The voices in the main hall could be heard as you approach the entrance. They subdued as you grew closer. You knew as soon as you turned that corner a table of eyes would be staring back at you. And, you were right.

Bran was the first person you locked eyes with. Then Sansa, and then you saw Littlefingers hungry eyes looking at you as of you were his breakfast. You visibly squirmed under his stair. Your eyes dart to an unfamiliar person who was turned away from you. You try to squint to see who it could be. He had short brown hair, seemed to be on the shorter side. As you drew closer he did not turn to face you.

"Hello, ___." The unknown person sang. You paused your footsteps and furrowed your brows in confusion. It wasn't a boy. It was a girl. You recognized that voice. Before you could put a name to the person she turned around and instantly your breath was caught in your throat.