Ups! Ten obraz nie jest zgodny z naszymi wytycznymi. Aby kontynuować, spróbuj go usunąć lub użyć innego.
Driysa's boots thudded against the muddied plains of the South, drifting between drowsiness and a wary watchfulness. Fatigue could do terrible things to a person and Driysa feared her dying mind would be more dangerous to her than those who inhabited these half-dead fields. The lack of foliage left Driysa ill-at-ease, the open plains left them easy victims to those very same half-dead inhabitants that peered at them through their rotting homes. Driysa had to remind herself the wall was far behind them as she peered back into those homes and glimpsed what she swore was the decaying bodies of the wights.
The South was nothing like what she dreamed of at night. How could she have stared at the roof of her home almost every night since Mance Rayder announced the coming of the White Walkers, fantasizing about a place so devoid of light? A pang ran through her chest as her mouth twisted into a rueful smile, thinking back to her father's lectures about how the only thing the South was good for was escaping the dead. Now that the three-eyed raven had found a home in Bran, she wasn't sure the South had that safety anymore. The people seemed half-dead themselves, their sunken eyes and veiny skin would've allowed them to hide in a group of dead bodies undetected. There truly was nothing better about the South.
She couldn't allow herself to be called stupid for her actions though. If this was the only place Bran could be safe then she would walk all the way to the end of the South to keep him protected. The South was Bran's home, it couldn't be such a desolate place if it created him. The heaviness in her heart ached as she gazed back towards the shadows of the wall, she could learn to love it if she had to. She had learned to love much worse things.
She shifted her gaze to Bran, who was sat in the middle of the mostly empty cart that held their few valuables and letters the Crows had for the king of Winterfell. She smiled softly, letting out a soft laugh as he began to mumble in his sleep. It was rare to see Bran have normal dreams, to notice the lack of a frown and crease on his brow as he took on more than he could handle. She liked to wonder what he dreamt of when he was gifted with normalcy, she couldn't have imagined it would be similar to what she dreamt of as a child. She slipped her hand into his, giving him a small squeeze as his dreams encouraged a smile to grace his face.
"That's Winterfell," Meera said, her voice hardly reaching Driysa's ears.
Driysa knew it was best not to answer Meera, it was the first time the girl had spoken since they left the wall. Her eyes had constantly been swelled with fresh tears that only threatened to spill over every time Driysa tried to encourage her to speak with them. They'd walk past certain areas and Meera would choke down her words, choosing to walk ahead of them instead. They had almost stopped their unending walk but Meera had been the one to force them forwards. It had left their walk silent for the most part, beside Driysa and Bran's soft whispers to one another as he filled her in on every family member that she would meet - related or not - and which individuals to trust and which to be wary of.
Their conversations left a weird feeling of delight within her. It always felt different discussing families with other people than with Bran, less intimate and exciting. With Bran, there was some sort of hope that she would be able to introduce them to the boy she had promised to protect with Meera and Jojen it was more a somber remembrance of people who used to be in her life.
She felt Bran's hand squeeze her own, noticing Bran was now gazing directly ahead in a nostalgic sort of trance. Finally looking forward, she took in a sharp breath as she took in the towering castle ahead of them. It was larger than any building she'd ever seen, larger in size than the buildings by the wall even. She wondered if Bran had occupied the largest castle south of the Wall or if, by some magic or another, there were castles even greater and more domineering than the one in front of her.
"Winterfell has been waiting for you, Dree," Bran said softly, smiling at her as he dipped his head to kiss her hand.
Driysa blushed, turning away slightly from Bran as the familiar warm feeling swelled in her chest. She cursed the boy, he knew those small gestures made her turn weird, they weren't something she was used to. Though if he was hoping to make her feel more at ease, he had been successful, now all she could think about was her hand. The act had even allowed Meera to smile, moving closer to the cart as they came up to the imposing wall.
"Sansa Stark will want to see her brother Bran Stark," Bran spoke to one of the guards, who had to be prompted to move by another guard who also had their mouth agape.
The gate to a courtyard opened for them, exposing them to a crowd of people who began to surround the cart as it entered. Driysa inched closer to Bran, her free hand hovering steadily over her dagger. It was clear Meera was not used to the number of people either, her face shifting to a look of being overwhelmed. Only Bran looked calm, as though he hadn't spent months in a cave like the rest of them. Driysa wondered if this was the trait of a prince, or was she merely overreacting?
"My eldest sister, the Queen of Winterfell, will meet us here," Bran whispered to her.
"I thought your brother was the King of this place?" Driysa whispered back, trying to ignore the swarm of people steps away from them, "Did the crows lie?"
Bran gave a wry smile, turning to discuss something with the guard behind them. Driysa frowned slightly, it was hard for her to understand Bran at times but he would hardly leave her in confusion. Noticing a blur of red hair, identical to what Bran had described to her in the cave, she wondered if she knew exactly what she was walking into.
A/N: Bran, the little shit-stirrer otherwise known as the three-eyed raven who knows how things end up but won't tell anyone cause secrets lol.
