The Stag and The Frog - (GendryxMeera GOT fanfic) Part 1: Alone

Prologue: He died

As Meera rode out the gates of Winterfell the last words Bran had told her rang in her ears.

"I don't need you anymore."

That's all he had said. Not gratitude. No recognition. No reward. Only those words.

He wasn't there anymore. She knew that now. The boy she had known was gone. Bran had died in that cave. Whatever inhabited Bran's body now wasn't him. It was something else. Something that scared her.

All that was left for her now was to go home. To Grey Tower. The castle, located in the wetlands called The Neck, which had been the home of her family for so long.

Tears streamed down her face as she rode on the King's Road. The surroundings started to look more and more familiar to her the further south she got. The cold weather made the tears freeze on her cheeks. It was the first time she had cried since leaving her home so long ago. She cried for her brother Jojen. She cried for Hodor. She cried for Summer. She cried for Bran.

***

A few days later Meera was back in her homelands once again.

Winter was coming in the Neck. She heard faint crackling sounds from ice breaking when her horse put down its legs in the water of the canal that led her towards the castle. Grey Tower was always moving, it was never in the same place twice. But Meera knew how to find it, how to follow the signs towards its location. Even when the lands looked as transformed as they did now. There had never been ice on these waters before in her lifetime. The cold covered every part of the swamp in a thin layer of frost. The water lilies floating in the canals, the trees with their long sheets of moss, the muddy water, were all covered by a sheet of whiteness. Everything looked slightly different, slightly muted, slightly hidden. But she still recognized every part of it.

Meera had longed for her home for so long. But as she got closer she only felt sadness and dread. Sadness because her brother Jojen wasn't with her, and dread because she would have to tell her father why he wasn't.

It had been Jojen's visions that led them to Bran Stark. It was her brother's mission, not hers. She had only been her brother's protector. She always had been. Jojen had been weak and sickly when growing up, and she had protected him. It had been her only mission in life. And when Jojen was gone she continued his mission by protecting Bran. She had protected him, and she had loved him. When there was no one else Bran had been her everything.

But she didn't need him anymore either. She didn't need anyone. All she needed was her home. She couldn't protect Jojen or Bran anymore, they were gone. But she could protect her home, and that's what she would do now.

She rounded a corner and there it was. Grey Tower. She was home. And she never intended to leave again.

***

Meera cautiously entered the Great Hall when she arrived at Grey Tower.

"Father. It's me," she said.

Her father, Howland Reed, sat by the main table. He looked older and more tired than she remembered him. But he also looked the same, he looked like home.

"Meera?" he said. "Is that actually you?"

"It is, father," she replied. "I'm home."

She knew what his next question would be. And she didn't want to answer. But she would have to. She held back tears as her father asked the inevitable question.

"Where is your brother?"

"Jojen's gone," she said, no longer able to hold back the tears. "He didn't make it. He died. In my arms."

Tears streamed down her face as she said it, anticipating his reaction. Would he be angry at her? After all, she should have protected Jojen. She should have died instead.

But her father didn't get angry. Instead, he walked up to Meera and embraced her. How she had long for that embrace.

"I'm sorry," he said. "I'm glad you are here, my daughter. I'm glad you made it back to me."

Meera burrowed her face in her father's jacket. She felt like a child again being embraced by her father. And for the first time in years, she felt safe.

"I was supposed to protect him," she whispered. "I failed. I'm sorry."

Her father shook his head and patted her. "It was his vision and his mission that you went on," he said. "It was Jojen's choice."

"I tried to save him, but I couldn't," she said.

"It's not your fault my daughter. If it's anyone's fault it's mine. I told you to go."

Salty teardrops dropped down into her hair. Meera had never seen her father cry before. Howland Reed was not an emotional man. She couldn't even remember him crying when her mother died, although Meera had been so young then.

"It wasn't your fault either, father," she said. "It was no one's fault. It was what was supposed to happen. Jojen knew he wouldn't come back, but he never told me."

Howland let go of her again and dried his tears. Seemingly trying to pretend he hadn't cried.

"So did you do what his vision told you? Did you help the Stark boy?"

"We did. He's back at Winterfell now. We followed the visions and did what the visions told us. It's all done."

Her father looked pleased to hear this. "Then Jojen didn't die in vain," he said. "He died for a greater purpose."

Meera couldn't tell her father about her doubts. She wanted to, but she couldn't. She couldn't let him think he had sent his only son to his death for nothing. Or even worse, for a nefarious purpose. She couldn't lay that burden on him, it was enough that she had to carry those doubts. So she told her father what he wanted to hear instead.

"He did," she said. "Jojen died for a good cause. A cause he believed in."

Later, Meera would come to wish she had told her father what she knew. She would come to wish that she had told the whole kingdom.

After the world shattered and the game began anew.