ataraxionlogs | a rabbit will run, and good dogs together go wild

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a rabbit will run, and good dogs together go wild

CHARACTERS: Stannis Baratheon & Bran Stark (& Summer)
LOCATION: the corridors
WARNINGS: none, really, just direwolves, death rumors, and kings, oh my!
SUMMARY: A prince of the north crashes into a king of the Seven Kingdoms. Rumors of his death have been greatly exaggerated, so, uh, surprise, there's still a Stark to sit at Winterfell!!

Each day that he runs with his robotic legs, Bran finds himself stronger and faster than the day before. It is a practice that he does not mind, for all it is tiring. If he is tired, it is only because he has worked hard, and soon he will be able to run without stopping to hold to the walls at all. Soon things will be as before--or nearly as before.

He does not look down when he runs. If he looks at the legs, sometimes Bran thinks that the magic will fail--but it is not magic; he tells himself this each time the thought comes into his head. It is science, and robotics.

Some days he might go to find Alayne or Robb or Jon, or look for Arya (though he never finds her unless she should want to be found), or try to follow Rickon--or else he might look for another of the friends he has made aboard this ship--but today he runs alone, with only Summer for company. He should perhaps take more caution, especially on this ship--especially with the queen aboard (the queen, but he will not stray to such thoughts).

But Bran is no coward--and Summer is with him. Who is a better guard than Summer? And so they are running, on one of the floors more newly populated--but it is still empty at this time of day, which means that Bran can bend his head as he does now and really run, trying to beat Summer to the end of the corridor, laughing as his direwolf still overtakes him--

His head is bent, so he does not see when Summer stops, his ears pricked and his tail low in wariness. He does not see that they are not alone in the corridor--and just then he trips and falls flat on his back. It's dizzying, but he still laughs--and then he sees feet, and legs, and a person, and he scrambles back with a sudden rush of caution, staring up at the man he now recognizes as Stannis Baratheon, who calls himself king. Bran has seen his likeness on these devices, though he has never spoken with him, and now--

You must return from where you went, and treat with him, Jon had said. Treat with him, not trip at his feet, and Bran's face feels hot as he crawls back a bit more, until he feels the bulk of Summer standing behind him. He cannot think of what to say, and so he only stares up at Stannis Baratheon, his heartbeat loud in his ears.

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In his brief time (though he would still say that it had been far too long) aboard the Tranquility, Stannis had come across far too many unbelievable things. Robb Stark alive and well. The arrival of his own younger brother, acting as though he had not a care in the world, with no knowledge of where his treason might lead him.

Most of all, he certainly hadn't been expecting to find himself running head-first into a boy.

A boy and a wolf that was far too large to be considered any regular wolf.

A Direwolf. A boy. That could only mean...

"Stark."

The words came quick to his tongue. One of the boys that the turncloak had murdered. But, which one? Certainly not the one that had the fall. Then, was this Rickon?

No, something told him that it was not quite right. But, were it not that boy... that only left Brandon. Secrets and secrets. He misliked not knowing.

Stannis Baratheon had a hard face. He was a hard man, too, if what Bran had been told of him was anything to go by--and if Bran hadn't known anything of him at all, that hardness would be plain to see in his face. It was not a face that often saw laughter. There were many hard faces in the North--Bran's own father was known to be serious--but even Father had laughed and smiled, sometimes.

Summer moved forward a little, bumping at Bran's shoulder with his chest. The direwolf considered Stannis Baratheon calmly, though his ears were pricked. Bran reached to twist his fingers in Summer's fur and pulled himself up. He was a prince of Winterfell. He had no reason to be wary of other lords or kings--especially not those known to be honorable.

"Prince Bran Stark," he answered, and some small part of him was pleased that his voice didn't sound so boyish as it might have. "Of Winterfell. You're Lord Stannis Baratheon--and a king." It was fair to call him king, so long as he was not King of the North.

"The King, despite what your brother would have to say." He regarded the direwolf calmly, face betraying no emotion. Truth be told, Robb Stark's opinion mattered little and less, considering the boy's fate. But...

Bran Stark. One of the slain "princes", and younger than his own daughter (or perhaps close in age) by the looks of it. Had one of them lived, perhaps they would have made a suitable match for Shireen. Yet what was done could not be undone, and he frowned, moving his teeth from side to side.

"Tell me boy, what do you know of Theon Turncloak?" After all, if the boy knew nothing of his fate, there was little he could say to him, was there not?

Still, Jon Snow had not made him take a vow with this brother.

He might have spoke to defend Robb's claim--it might be dangerous to challenge a king on this matter, but Robb's claim was good; the North belonged to the Starks and to the Northmen--and the words were at Bran's lips. But then--

Theon Turncloak. His eyes jumped to Stannis Baratheon's face, wider than he might have liked. He knows what happens to Winterfell. And it would be unwise to tell him the truth of it--that they escaped Winterfell, Bran and Rickon and Osha and Hodor and the Reeds--that they parted ways, that he turned for the north and the Wall--for when they returned home, Bran would continue on his path. He must not be interrupted.

His stare had gone on too long, as all these thoughts flicked through his mind. He must look a stupid boy, but better a stupid boy than a hostage, wasn't that so? Summer was at his shoulder, his ears turned back against his head--but whether this was at Stannis Baratheon himself, or at the name that he spoke, it was difficult even for Bran to say. He knitted his fingers more firmly through the fur of the direwolf, to give himself some strength and to pass some calm to his wolf all at once.

"He turns his cloak," he said, his voice thin now. "He comes to Winterfell."

Stupid? Hardly. Yet, Stannis could tell that perhaps there was something akin to fear in the boy's tone, and why should there not be? For he was only a lad, younger than his daughter. He often recalled how Shireen had always been nervous around him, so was it the same for the boy?

Or was it that he knew all too well what would come to pass for him?

"Aye, he did. While your brother was off conquering the Riverlands, he let the Krakens ravage the North. They say that the Turncloak was captured by Lord Bolton's basborn son, though not before he razed Winterfell and took the lives of its two princes."

He did not make such a vow to Jon Snow.

"Yet, perhaps you already know of such matters, Brandon Stark."

A vessel of the dead. Perhaps that was truly what it was.

"He didn't let them!" The words came out too indignant, especially to a man who called himself king. But Robb's name ought to be defended. No matter if Bran had once felt left behind, Robb could not be blamed for Theon Greyjoy's treachery. "He couldn't know that we were to be betrayed, he thought--"

He trusted Theon, and Theon betrayed him. Bran could remember the coldness of Theon Greyjoy's face in the yard at Winterfell; he could remember the way he used to laugh, and make Robb laugh. Any man can be betrayed. And Robb would have rode for home, if he had known in time.

He never took our lives, he might tell Stannis Baratheon. Robb had not lost everything the way they all thought. But--they had lied to the man in the cave, and he had known the truth--only he was a man of the North. Stannis Baratheon was not. Could he lie to a king?

He might find me. He might take me hostage. The three-eyed crow said to come north, so when we are in Westeros again, I must go north. I must not be caught. I must lie.

And so Bran looked for his courage; he wrapped his fingers more firmly in Summer's fur and sat up straighter still, a lord and a prince and a Stark of Winterfell, no matter if it was razed or whole. Winterfell was more than a castle.

"We die," he said, and met Stannis Baratheon's eye as best as he could. "There are princes of Winterfell killed and they are no more. They have told us that much." It was a narrow path, but it was no lie. Robb and Jon and Alayne had all indeed said it. "There are many people aboard this ship who know of their deaths. Some say-- Some call it a second chance."

A wight, and a dead prince. But only in word. A lie to protect Rickon, and himself, and to see his path to the north untroubled. If there was dishonor in this lie, Bran knew that he would have to bear it.

Oddly enough, the corners of Stannis's mouth twitched just for a moment, at the boy's defence. Lord Commander Snow had been much the same, had he not, rushing to defend the honour of his traitor brother. Regardless...

"You are a bold lad, Brandon Stark. Much like your baseborn brother."

And bolder still, he could not help but think as the boy continued on speaking. For it was a rare thing for a man to look him in the eye, much less a boy of his daughter's age. And to talk of his fate in such a manner... It was almost admirable in a queer sort of way.

"And does your elder brother know of such, or is that yet another matter you have deemed to keep from him?" Lies and lies, perhaps. It seemed to him that such was far crueller than the simple truth. For though it might be harsh, it did not quite carry the twinge of betrayal that a lie held. Perhaps he should not have said as much as he had.

But one day, Robb Stark would have to know of the price of treason and the neglect of duty. It was only unfortunate his brothers and the north had suffered as they had.

The twitching of Stannis Baratheon's mouth had not gone unnoticed--but surely he was not trying to smile? He didn't have a face for smiles, and Bran hadn't said anything amusing. Was it bold, to defend Robb? Maybe. But it was no less than he deserved, as King in the North and Bran's own brother.

But Bran's resolved crumbled slightly at the pointed question that followed. There was much and more that was kept from Robb, and Bran did not know all of it. Sansa likely knew, and perhaps Jon, too--and maybe even Arya, though she wouldn't even admit to her name, not truly, so there would be no talking to her of Robb.

And Bran did not like lying to Robb, no matter how sweetly the lies were meant, so that question stung all the more. If everything could be told plainly, would it be better for Robb? Or were secrets secret for a reason?

"He doesn't know everything," he answered Stannis Baratheon, "only some. And it is wiser not to say everything, because--it all might yet be changed. There are people who have left this ship, and gone home--they forget being here, but--" Bran's fingers tightened in Summer's fur, and he finished, quietly: "There might be a way for someone to remember, to take a message or a warning home--but the remembering might be dangerous, too. Something might be changed."

Stannis is silent for a long time, before speaking again. He has much and more to contemplate as he speaks to the boy.

Regardless, his voice remains as even as ever when he finally does speak.

"You would protect him from the truth, just as your baseborn brother would."

A frown as he moved his teeth from side to side.

"But you would do well to remember this, Brandon Stark. Despite how you may hide it from him, and despite your wishes, he cannot be shielded from the hard truth forever."

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a rabbit will run, and good dogs together go wild

god forgive me for how late this was. ;o;

NO WORRIES <33333 you can always take your time!

...takes all the time. :'(

I WILL BE SLOW TOO let that comfort you <3

OH NOT SO SLOW WHAT IS THIS...

OH MY GOD IT'S LIKE CHRISTMAS!!!!

OKAY THIS ONE IS A BIT SLOWER BUT...

/goes slowwwwly into the sunset with you forever

/sobs quietly