The Broken (Bran Stark x Reader)

Chapter 25- The Broken Man

Withering away in the such a darkness where nothing else could be seen was something you anticipated to happen much longer ago. Though, you had thought you moved past that once you got back to Winterfell this time. The world had other plans for you now. You remember long ago the words of an old friend you sometime had forgotten. He had told you that you had a purpose. That you had to bring Bran to the Three Eyed Raven and it would all mean something, eventually.

Eventually. Well, eventually was running out of time. Each passing moment it grew closer to everything meaning absolutely nothing. Fighting for your life, his life, their lives. Gaining and losing, loving and choosing, which way you turned, what path you took, if you made the right choice, or if you did the right thing, was that pointless? Should you have left the day Winterfell burned or should you have sat and turned to ash.

The good and the bad. All the pain. The love. The lust. The passion, and the tears. What was the meaning of you holding him now. Naked and exposed. What if you were with child. You would never know. Not if you die tomorrow.

You were told that Bran becoming what he is now, the thing he couldn't even explain, would answer all the questions you had. But, it's only created more confusion. You would rather be blissfully ignorant. Not knowing what was happening on the other side of the seven kingdoms. Or not knowing about an army of the dead. You'd rather shrivel up in your sleep and rise with sapphire eyes opened for the rest of eternity. You'd rather die.

"Bran." Called a cold Sansa from the other side of the unlocked door. You hadn't cared who entered now. Though, no one would have dared in times like these. "We must discuss important plans with you."

"We're coming." You answer for him. The boy gives you a small strange look. As if asking what the point of leaving this room was. If you were to die, Bran would want it be done here. Alone. With you.

"I don't want to." He protested quietly, but you would have none of it.

"We must." You insist.

"Why."

"Because, I don't plan on dying just yet." You answer to his surprise. You were just huddled up next to him, weeping in his arms. Making love to him as though it was the last chance you'd ever get. Then, laying here contemplating the meaning of life. Yet, you tell him you do not plan to die. Words unheard of from you.

"Help me up." He commands and you quickly obliged. He figured there was no point in discussing it here. If you had a plan, whether he believed it would work or not was irrelevant. He just wanted to spend his last moments however you saw fit. Whether that mean huddled up alone, or clawing until the last breath left your neck.

You wheeled him down the eerily silent hallway. It wasn't until you made it down the the main floor you could hear the rustling of men as the shuffled throughout the courtyards with weaponry and armed. Though, barely anyone spoke. The only words were those of the men leading the woman and children to the crypts. And, the weeping of mothers and fathers as they separated from the young daughters and older sons who they may never seen again.

Once in the meeting room you meet eyes with the stone cold daggers of a dragon staring back at you. She does not shift her gaze for a moment, even after you move yours. You then see a nervous Sansa with small beads of sweat coating her upper forehead. She did not look up from the map and figurines on the table top. Arya sat coolly in a chair and looked up for only a moment, before nodding and looking down at the board also. Then, finally you see Jon. His cold expressionless face was cracking with tiny amounts of fear he tried to disguise as apathy. Though, you would allow him to wear his mask.

You began to take a step forward before meeting the eyes of an old friend. If- of course, that was the right things to call him. Instantly after seeing him your feet freeze as though they were the snow. Eyes widen in shock and surprise, and a small gasp escaped. He said nothing and gave you only the faintest of smiles. Only offering a small, nervous, pleasantry.