The cold that morning settled deeper than usual, the kind that stayed in your chest after each breath and made the air feel thinner than it should have.
Most of the men had already ridden out with the King, and without them the castle felt off in a way that wasn't easy to explain. It wasn't silent, but the weight of movement and noise had changed, leaving something stretched and uneasy behind.
I stayed near the Great Hall for a while, letting the sounds and scents separate enough to make sense of them. The trail of the royal party was already fading toward the gates, but not all of them had left.
The ones that mattered were still here.
I didn't need anything to confirm it. I already knew what this day was.
I found Bran near the armory, standing still and looking up at the First Keep as if he could already feel the climb before taking the first step.
He wasn't thinking about risk.
He never did.
I moved in front of him before he could start, placing myself directly in his path so he would have to acknowledge me.
"Out of the way, boy," Bran laughed, reaching down to pat my head.
I didn't move.
When he tried to sidestep me, I moved with him, blocking again without making it look aggressive, then lowered myself into a sit right in front of him, pressing my weight into the ground so he couldn't just push past me. I leaned forward slightly and nudged his shins, trying to guide him back toward the yard where the other pups were.
He frowned, clearly annoyed now.
"I'm just going for a climb. You're worse than Mother."
He gave me one last scratch behind the ears, like that settled the matter, and then he moved.
Not toward the stairs.
Toward the wall.
I turned as he ran, but he was already climbing by the time I reached the base, his hands finding holds in the stone with the ease of someone who had done this too many times to hesitate.
By the time I looked up properly, he was already too high.
Too fast.
And completely out of reach.
That was when the scent hit properly.
Not strong at first, but clear enough once I focused.
Cersei.
Jaime.
They were already there.
Everything narrowed after that.
There wasn't time to think things through step by step. I couldn't reach him, and I couldn't stop what was coming, but stopping it wasn't the only way to change the outcome.
I just needed to control where he landed.
I turned and ran for the wagon.
It sat a short distance away, loaded with thick sacks meant for storage, piled without much care, heavy enough that they wouldn't shift unless something forced them to.
I grabbed the first sack with my teeth and pulled.
It resisted at first, dragging against the ground, but I dug in harder, claws cutting into the dirt until it finally gave and slid free. I dragged it toward the base of the tower without checking placement, then turned back immediately.
The second sack came easier.
The third didn't.
By then my breathing had picked up, the cold air burning as it moved in and out, but there wasn't space to slow down.
Above me, voices carried faintly.
Close enough.
I shoved another sack into place, forcing it into the growing pile, trying to center it without wasting movement. The ground beneath me had already turned soft where I'd been dragging weight back and forth, and I could feel the strain building in my legs, but I went back again anyway.
One more.
That was all I had time for.
"The things I do for love."
I heard it clearly that time.
There was no doubt.
I didn't look up.
There wasn't a reason to.
I drove the last sack into place with everything I had, forcing it into the center of the pile just as the shadow broke from above.
Bran fell.
The air rushed around him as he dropped, fast enough that there was no time for a cry, no time for anything except the impact.
He hit the pile hard, the weight collapsing under him instead of stopping him clean. The sacks moved, absorbing most of the force before rolling him off the side and onto the ground.
The sound wasn't sharp.
It was heavy.
I was at his side before the dust settled.
His breathing was there, shallow but steady enough to see, his face pale, his body slack in a way that didn't sit right. One leg was twisted at an angle that made it clear how bad it was without needing to think about it.
Alive.
That was enough.
I looked up.
For a split second, I saw a flash of gold at the window.
Then nothing.
I didn't stay quiet.
I threw my head back and let the sound out, not a growl and not a bark, but something sharper that carried across the courtyard in repeated bursts, loud enough to cut through everything else.
Help. Here. Now.
I kept it going, my throat tightening with the strain as I stood over Bran's body, not moving from his side.
I saw the first of the guards turning, then running.
"Over here!" Jory Cassel's voice boomed.
They reached us within seconds. Jory dropped to his knees beside Bran, his hands moving quickly but carefully as he checked him.
"He's breathing. Someone get the Maester! Get Lord Stark!"
The yard broke into motion.
Men ran in different directions, voices overlapping, urgency replacing the quiet that had been there moments ago.
I stopped then.
Stepped back just enough to give them space while keeping Bran in sight as they lifted him, careful despite the rush, and carried him toward the keep.
The courtyard emptied almost as quickly as it had filled, leaving behind only the disturbed ground and the scattered sacks where the fall had been softened.
The blue screen flickered at the edge of my vision.
[Level 8]
[Title Earned: Life-Binder]
[Effect: Slightly increases the survival chance of allies in critical condition.]
I watched until they disappeared inside, then turned away, my legs heavier now that everything had slowed.
I had done what I could.
I hadn't stopped it.
But I had changed it.
The castle didn't feel quiet anymore.
It felt like something had already begun.
And it wasn't going to slow down.
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