Bran and the Wall

Sansa woke with a start, eyes opening slowly, adjusting the candle lit room, she winced and touched her head, at least it was no longer bleeding, though the constant dull ache was there, guess that would teach her a lesson about messing around, in all honesty, knowing what her siblings were like, she doubt she could promise that it wouldn't happen again. Now though Sansa could laugh at the situation, it had been funny, perhaps not in the moment, but if she ever needed to get revenge on him she could tell his future wife about how he had covered himself in flour and scared his younger sisters. 'just cruel!" she could imagine herself teasing. she smiled fondly at the thought, she doubt Jon would find anyone suitable to marry here in the North.

She looked around to realise that she was alone, her mother probably resting somewhere else or attending to other matters concerning all things Winterfell. She stood up and smoothed out her dress, running a hand through her hair and made her way over to the door of Catelyn's chambers, she smiled, knowing Catelyn had held her hand while she fell asleep, she could still feel the warmth of her mother's touch.

She stepped out and immediately regretted leaving the warm room, the temperature had long since dropped and she knew she'd been out cold for a good few hours. She made her way out to the Courtyard, giving a small smile at the people she passed, she saw Bran arguing with Maester Luwin "I don't see why learning the houses is so important!" he complained, he was still young, and perhaps a bit more naive than Sansa was. "Bran..." Sansa sighed, she knelt down beside him and gave him a warm smile. "let's say you're on a battlefield" she told him, exaggerating the story to make it exciting. "the fields so wide you could see the North from one side to the other, in the distance you see a sigil, not the people, not their armies, a sigil of a golden lion on a field of crimson..." she said rubbing his arm to keep him interested, though she had no doubt that she had his full attention now. "now, on the other side of the battlefield the sigil of a white crescent moon and a falcon on a blue field." she said. "whose armies are those?" she asked. Bran frowned in concentration, Maester Luwin watching him carefully, hopefully his lessons won't have been wasted. "The Lannisters and...House...Arryn?" he guessed. "are you asking us or telling us?" Maester Luwin questioned the young boy. "House Arryn" he said now more confident in his answer. "Good. that's right" Sansa praised. "now you know which armies are on the battlefield, with your own two eyes, it's political, yes, but one day it just might save you from riding into the wrong army" Sansa smiled. Bran pressed his lips together and nodded. "I understand" he said.

Sansa stood up and kissed the top of Bran's head, her arm resting around his shoulders. "go on" she encouraged. "I'm sorry Maester Luwin, I promise I won't complain about the lessons again" he apologies. "very well" he nodded, bowing his head before turning to leave them. "they are boring, I won't lie" Sansa chuckled making Bran grin. "Hypocrite!" he giggled. "My! my! such big words for such a little Lord!" Sansa teased. Bran laughed and walked through the Courtyard with Sansa, approaching the North gate. "do you really think there are battlefields that big?" he asked in thought. "I don't know, I haven't seen any in person, then again, neither have you"

"Well, we can change that" Bran smiled, he immediately ran up to the stone wall and gripped onto a small ledge, the walls were tall and with Bran so small her heart dropped into her stomach a bit. "Bran..." she warned, stepping a little closer to the wall. "Think about it Sansa! the whole of the North is one giant glorious battlefield, as far as the eye can see!" He continued to climb, Bran could feel the cold of the stone walls begin to numb his fingertips, but he was so close. "Bran! come down! if mother catches you!" she warned, stepping up to the wall, she damn well wasn't going to climb up after him, she didn't have his gift of agility, but she was responsible for her little brothers safety when her parents couldn't be there. Bran looked down at Sansa and smirked. "nothing to worry about Sansa! I can see over the wall" he smiled. Sansa let out a little sigh of relief, if he climbed over quickly then she could tell her mother he took the stairs, like any other normal person would have done.

"BRAN!" Sansa screamed, he'd reached up to the flat platform of the top of the wall and his grip failed him, his hand failed to latch onto anything and he was thrown off balance, his foot skipped and he dropped a few feet down the wall, thankfully his arm managed to hook around one of the stones that jutted out from the wall, his breath ragged, chest heaving as the adrenaline rushed through his veins. "I'm fine!" he said upon seeing Sansa either tears in her eyes and hands clamped over her mouth. "I'm..." he trailed off and his smile immediately dropped, he looked past Sansa and gulped, immediately trying to find ways to explain himself. "In trouble" Catelyn said, her arms on her hips as she stood beside Sansa.

Sansa looked at her mother sheepishly from the side, her jaw was clenched and there was a fire in her eyes, she was frustrated, Sansa didn't need to hear her speak to know that. "does everything I say to you go in one ear and out the other?" she scolded. "Robb, Jon" Catelyn said to the boys who now stood behind her hearing the commotion. "Help get your brother down" she sighed heavily. she turned around shaking her head. "Mother..." Sansa began going to grab Catelyn's arm. "Don't...not now" Catelyn whispered, she brushed past the outreached hand, away from her daughter and across the Courtyard. Sansa watched her carefully, she could understand her reaction, she'd caught him climbing in places much higher than the wall of the gate, and had come down with too many cuts and scrapes.

Catelyn rounded the corner and stood there, praying to god no one was watching her. she pressed s hand to her stomach briefly, the dread, the fear, the thought of losing her child was too much to contemplate, a fall from that height could have killed him if he'd landed the wrong way, or caused him serious injury. she took a shaky breath, one hand holding the pillar for support, the other resting on her chest and she tried not to panic at the thought of what could have happened. she closed her eyes, a tear rolling down her cheek, she quickly wiped it away, cleared her throat and continued to make her way inside.

Jon and Robb both stood at the top of the wall, only taking a few seconds to get to where Bran was by climbing the stairs, the much safer option. "Come on Bran, climb the rest of the way, we'll pull you up" Jon said with a grin, reaching down so Bran could take his hand as soon as he could reach it. Sansa shook her head, her brothers were there now, she didn't need to be, she walked off hurriedly, going through the courtyard trying to find her mother, she stopped once in the hallways of the keep and groaned, a hand flying to her head, she swayed on her feet for a moment, hand bracing on the wall to steady herself, the sharp shooting pain now easing off within seconds as it had come on. "Sansa?"

Her head shot up and she fought the urge to wince and narrow her eyes at the blinding pain filling her head. "Father" she smiled. "you okay?" he asked, one hand resting on the hilt of his sword that rest at his hip. "Bran giving me a headache. Nothing new" she chuckled softly, she didn't need anyone else to be worried today. Eddard nodded and pouted, looking into the courtyard. "Me and the boys are going out later, on a hunt, you're to remain here with your mother, Bran and Arya", he told her. "father why can't I come?" she complained. "I'm old enough!" she whined. "and yet not as experienced!" he said shrugging his shoulders. "so teach me!" she raised her voice. "Tone, Sansa, I am still the lord of Winterfell" he warned. Sansa shook her head in disbelief and took a step back. "Sorry mi'lord.", she said sarcastically. "Have you seen Lady Stark?" she asked, keeping up the formalities just to spite him. Eddard sighed and nodded. "She was heading to her chambers"

Sansa nodded and made her way past her father. "Sansa..." Eddard called after her, she ignored him, why on earth couldn't she hunt, because she was a girl? too young? it was a joke, if she wanted to ride a horse through the woods with her brother and father then why shouldn't she be allowed. She made her way to her mother's chambers, she knew she was coming from a good place, everyone loved her, and if being harsh from time to time was her way to protect her children so that they would grow up into reputable Starks, then that was the price to pay.

Sansa knocked on her mother's door and opened it slowly, she frowned at the state she saw her mother in. She was at her desk, drink in one hand, gazing absently at herself in the mirror. Sansa gulped and stepped forwards slowly. "Ma?" she whispered. She turned and closed the door behind her. Sansa walked towards her slowly, only when she was closer, did she see that in her left hand there was her small dagger which Eddard had gifted to her as a wedding present. "Mother...?" she asked again, urgency in her voice. Her eyes widened and she stopped dead in her tracks, her knuckles were colourless, not like the deep red of the blood that was slowly spreading across her palm as she gripped the dagger tightly by the blade. "Catelyn!" she yelled louder, she jumped a little when her mother's head snapped towards her. "Sansa dear..." she said shocked, quickly recollecting herself, she put the goblet down and dropped the knife from her grasp and stood up, hands by her side. "I'm sorry, I didn't hear you come in" her voice was quiet, though trying to push some authority through, trying to act like she wasn't upset. but she was.

Even from where she stood she could see the tear stained cheeks, the glassy look in her eyes, the puffiness from crying, her lower lip trembling as she struggled to stand there and act as Lady Stark rather than just Catelyn. Sansa approached her slowly, now standing in front of her mother, she might have been young, and next to ni fighting skills, but she was much more intellectually developed than most other spoilt girls her age. "What's going on?" she asked, a lump in her throat. There was no reply from the older woman. "Mother..." she whispered, her eyes searching Catelyn's. Sansa lowered her gaze, blood dripping off of her mother's small finger. Sansa swallowed a sob and softly caressed her hand, much like her mother had done to hers the night before.

With that gentle touch Catelyn broke, she leaned into her eldest daughter and hugged her tightly sobbing. "Mother" she whispered. Sansa grabbed her by the arms and gently pushed her back, kept pushing her back until Catelyn was sat back down in the chair by the desk. The red head girl crouched down and rest her hands on her mother's knees. "he never listens, and I hate it, I can't help him if he doesn't listen, I already wished one child dead..." she rambled on. Sansa's head snapped up and she frowned, this was news to her, and her mother very rarely opened up. Sansa stood up and grabbed the basin that remained from the night before, she poured the dirty contents quickly into the chamberpot and filled it up with the fresh warm water fetched to her room earlier. "who?" she asked quietly, there was no reason to speak to loudly now it was just them. She knelt between her mother's legs, taking her hand gently in her own and uncurled her fingers to see the thin cut of the blade across her palm, she was glad she had interrupted. She pressed a cloth to the wound carefully, letting it rest there for a moment. "Jon" she chuckled slightly. "I was jealous of his mother, Eddard brought a baby back in his arms, expected me to love him as my own, but I hated him, I wished him dead..." she winced and her hand jerked away from Sansa's slightly. "sorry" Sansa immediately apologised, but she had to clean the wound. She focused on the cut, avoiding her mother's gaze, she didn't want to pressure her, to feel like she was judging her she'd tell her what she wanted her to know, and from this angle, she'd have better control of her facial expressions, or at least a bit more time to consider how she reacted. "I wished him dead, so that I wouldn't have to love him, that very night I prayed to all the gods, that he die that night" she shrugged a little. she took a slow breath, watching Sansa as she mended her hand slowly. "but he survived, I hated that Robb, Arya, even you all called him brother" she whispered.

Sansa listened intently, standing up to leave her mother to search the chest by her mother's bed, pulling out a bandage. "I regretted it. some part of me. not long after, he got pox, I felt guilty for praying such harm on an innocent boy, he'd never done anything to me, so I prayed again, to the old gods and the new gods, for him to survive" she said, her voice getting a little stronger. Sansa returned to her and grabbed her hand gently, pressing the end of the bandage to the middle of her hand, beginning to wrap it slowly. "I prayed that if he survived, I swore that I would love him as my own child, love him with all my heart, and he did, he made it through the night" she smiled, she still felt so awful about it, about everything. "but it's still hard...and if I ever lost one if my children, especially Bran, perhaps that would be my punishment" she shook her head, using her free hand to wipe a few tears away, she sniffled and shook her head. "I cannot lose him. any of you" she sobbed softly, shoulders shaking as she hung her head in shame. Sansa tied off the bandage and stood up, she leaned forward and hugged her mother, arms wrapping around her back, stroking it softly, giving her a comforting squeeze. "You must hate me, to wish such a thing on your brother" Catelyn whispered into her daughters shoulder, returning the hug with her one good hand. Sansa closed her eyes, taking advantage of not being seen to let out a few tears of her own, that explained why for the first good couple years of Jon's life she seemed to hate him, to despise him, never give him a chance and cast every shadow of doubt and anger at him that she could. "I could never hate you, you're my mother" Sansa drew back a little and kissed her mother's temple. "let's get you into bed" Sansa whispered.

Catelyn shook her head and took her daughters hand, finally calming down. "No, but thank you. I'm alright" she whispered. "Besides, someone has to set up the courtyard and the great hall for tonight, no doubt that your father will catch something glorious on his hunt later" she smiled. Sansa shrugged. "I'm sure I would if I could go" she stated plainly. Catelyn smiled softly and kissed her daughters hand. "be on your way, check on Bran for me?" she asked softly, a hunt of pain, regret and guilt still in her voice. Sansa took a moment to consider then nodded. "of course" she flashed her mother an empathetic smile and made her way back to the door.

"Sansa..." Catelyn began, one hand fiddling with her bandaged hand, she took a step towards her daughter, mouth moving but at a loss for words, choking on the air, still emotional after opening up. Sansa smiled and nodded sympathetically. "I know" she nodded, brows furrowing a little. "I know" she responded letting her mother know everything was good between them. With that she left the chambers and closed the door behind her.