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Chapter 141 – A hint of hope

[301 AC – Winterfell]

*Knock* *Knock*

Hearing a sudden knocking coming from her door, Talisa looked up from the book she was reading and turned to her handmaiden.

"Would you please open the door and see who it is, Lara?", Talisa asked the young woman with a smile, while staying in bed herself, as her pregnancy was at such an advanced stage that it had become difficult for her to move around.

This was also the reason she did not accompany Robb on his conquest to Karhold, even though she did not like being seperated from her love.

"Of course, my Lady.", the dark-haired girl replied with a smile, dimples visible on her cheeks.

Walking to the heavy wooden door, she opened it partly without great effort as it was oiled and well-maintained.

Seeing the crippled younger brother of the king and his rather massive, even if clumsy, attendant waiting to be let inside, the young girl was surprised, before she hurriedly bowed her head as she greeted the young man, who sat in his specially made wheelchair.

"Young Lord.", the girl greeted respectfully.

Nodding in response to her greeting, Bran inquired: "I came to see Lady Talisa, does she have time?"

"Excuse me, my Lord. I will go ask her.", the girl replied, as she closed the door once again, knowing that she could not just let anyone inside her Queen's chambers without her consent, not even the young prince.

Stepping up to the wide bed the Lady was resting on, Lara told the Queen in the North who it was that had come to see her.

"Let him.", Talisa replied, straightening out the blanket that covered her somewhat and combing through her hair with her fingers, not wanting to leave an uncomely impression of herself in the mind of the younger brother of her husband.

Seeing her handmaiden open the door wide and Walder pushing the crippled young man into the room in his wheelchair, Talisa greeted him with a smile, as Lara closed the door once again.

"Brandon, how nice of you to visit me. I don't think we have yet had the time to get to know each other really.", the young Queen stated.

"Just Bran is fine, Lady Talisa.", the young boy replied calmly, the corners of his lips barely lifting into a smile. Since his fall the young Stark has lost much of his former joyful nature and had become much more withdrawn and silent.

"Then I insist you call me Talisa, Bran.", the pregnant Queen countered, the smile not fading from her face. She knew about the boy's accident of course and had seen such things often in her time as a wandering priestess and healer.

Often times those who have suffered grave and crippling injuries it was not the body that could not adjust and suffered the most, but the mind. Anger issues, long-term states of melancholy, and becoming introverted were common developments in such cases.

Seeing the boy nod in acknowledgment, Talisa's expression turned a bit more serious, as she asked: "You know that I am a healer and priestess from the Red Temple, don't you?"

"Yes.", the boy replied with a slightly uncomfortable look on his face.

"Well, Robb has told me about your accident and while I know that Maester Luwin has done his best to safe your life, the healing arts of the Red Temple are much more advanced than those of the Citadel, not to mention the healing magic that the more gifted and powerful members of the temple are able to use.", Talisa stated, before she continued.

"If you would let me, I can take a look at the injury you suffered, and maybe there is something we can do to help you.", she offered, "Robb has told me you always wanted to be a knight, maybe that dream isn't completely out of your reach, Bran."

Hearing Talisa's words, Bran froze in his seat as myriad thoughts and emotions coursed through his heart. The shattered hopes and dreams of his past self seemed to gain back a hint of vitality, as he felt as if a mountain had been lifted off his small chest.

His mind had been plagued by dark thoughts ever since his accident and his dreams had been filled with nightmares. He had despaired at his fate and even had thoughts of taking his own life, especially after the news of his parent's death had reached Winterfell.

Those darker thoughts had been pushed aside a bit when his elder brother and sister had finally returned to Winterfell and life returned to the castle bit by bit, but it didn't stop him from looking at the future without joy and hope, knowing that he would forever be bound to his chair and need the help of others for the simplest things.

"What do I have to do?", Bran questioned, eager to cling to this spark of hope that had appeared before him. Momentarily forgetting that he had originally come to Talisa in hopes that she could arrange a meeting between him and the High Priest, as he wanted to ask the sorcerer about his dreams.

Smiling kindly, Talisa didn't answer immediately, as she turned to her handmaiden and the boy's oversized attendant: "Why don't you two wait outside for a moment?"

Lara, quick to accept her request, bowed and excused herself, while Walder followed suit and also left after a nod from Bran, that assured the gentle giant that this was in line with the boy's wishes.

"Can you come closer, Bran?", Talisa finally addressed the boy after the door was closed again, which the boy managed with only a little difficulty.

"Most of the priests of the Healing Light branch are not very gifted in magic, in fact, most of the priests belonging to the Red Temple are not. Still, every priest in the temple receives the Lord's blessing, which makes even those without the gift capable of wielding a spark of magic.", Talisa explained, capturing the full attention of the boy.

"There are some other types of blessings, like the ones that the Fiery Hand warriors received, or those of High Priests and Priestesses. I do not know how they differ from the one I received, but they do, greatly in fact."

"Still, the magic I can wield is very very weak and hardly enough to light a few candles, before exhaustion takes over."

"There is one type of magic though that I learned from a higher-ranked healer during my time as an apprentice. It is a scrying type of magic that lets me see the severity of internal damage without having to cut open a patient."

Pushing her legs over the side of the bed, Talisa sat up with some difficulty as she extended her hand towards Bran and continued: "I will have to touch your back to use this magic, as I am not powerful enough to use it through simple physical contact."

Nodding in understanding, Bran shifted in his seat and struggled a bit before he managed to pull up his shirt and position himself so that Talisa could reach his back.

"Ready?", the young Queen asked kindly, "It may sting a little bit."

"Yes.", Bran replied with a determined look in his eyes.

Placing her hand on Bran's back, Talisa drew on the tiny drop of magic she had been gifted with and let it flow down her arm and into the young boy's back, spreading out like a misty cloud to magically take a look at his spine.

It was a few moments later that her magic ended and she withdrew her hand somewhat exhausted, as that tiny drop of magic was connected to her vitality and it would take at least a few days before it recondensed.

Still, what she had seen with her magic was anything but good, and caused a frown had settled on her face.

Bran meanwhile had pulled down his shirt again and shifted his position to something more comfortable again, before turning to Talisa and seeing her expression.

A pit forming in his stomach, the boy voiced out quietly, despair creeping in his tone: "It's not something that can be treated, is it?"

Sighing audibly, a complex look in her eyes, Talisa replied: "It's not that it's incurable, Bran, but your injury is very severe. Your spine is deformed greatly as a consequence of your fall and the lacking treatment afterward."

"What does that mean?", the boy asked tentatively.

"It means that only magic can help you in this situation, and I fear that ordinary magic may not be enough. At least a healer with the rank of a High Priest would be necessary to heal you, though even that may not be enough.", Talisa stated with a slightly distraught look in her eyes, "Maybe only the Lord is capable of healing you."

"What about Thoros? He is a High Priest, is he not?", Bran inquired, anxiousness in his tone.

"He is, but High Priest Thoros is of the Fire Sword branch, the warrior branch. I am sure he has some accomplishments in the field of healing magic, but he is not a master of the craft.", Talisa explained with a shake of her head.

"There is something else why I need to speak with the High Priest. It is why I came to you.", Bran stated, pushing aside his despair and anger at his own situation for the moment, "I hope that you can help me meet him."

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This story is already finished on my p@treon account with 162 chapters. I will probably only upload the rest here occasionally, as this account isn't a priority of mine and just exists to stop others from stealing my intellectual property.

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