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Entry tags:

bran stark,
tobias

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CHARACTERS: tobias & bran stark & summer
LOCATION: O2 gardens
WARNINGS: n/a?
SUMMARY: tobias is looking for a battle morph and dem direwolves sure look good

He'd only been up here a month but already Tobias' world had been turned upside down. Battling aliens he could deal with. Hell, being trapped on a space ship he could deal with. He'd been in worse situations, and really, this place was fairly luxurious as far as getting trapped went. Keeping his morphing ability hidden was easy when people were more concerned with their own problems.

But now Tobias had a problem, and it was that this ship wasn't as safe a it first looked. There were dangers up here that he hadn't been prepared to deal with, and that's why he's perched high on a limb of a tree, fierce gaze angled down into the tangled thickets of the oxygen gardens. The Starks and their direwolves were up here frequently, and though they were nearly attached at the hip, they were the best thing he'd spotted so far that he could use to fight those things out there. And he wasn't foolish enough to think he wouldn't fight them, sometime. But his default, the hawk, was useless against an enemy that was already blind.

Feathers slicked back, his golden eyes catch every twitch of a branch as good as any sniper rifle. She comes through a break in the foliage, head lowered and preoccuiped with something. Her owner was probably close behind, so he had to make this quick and hope that whomever it was was at least a minute away. < Please don't look up, > He thinks, launching from his branch and angling down toward the direwolf, swooping from up high with talons raked forward.

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It soothes him, however slightly, to know that it was the boy and not something else. Like the ship, or god only knows what else. He doesn't explain that he wasn't attacking Summer, because that would open a whole slew of other questions that Tobias definitely does not want to entertain. The less people knew about him, the better. If he spent all his time here between people thinking he was a talking bird and keeping his human half separate, then that's how he would have to live.

Not like he hadn't adapted to stranger things in the past.

< It's fine, > His tone isn't quite as harsh, but it's still standoffish, firm. He just needs to morph, but he can't do it here and now, and he's not sure how he'll convince a kid who is clearly upset for his welfare not to. Instead, he tries to distract him. < How did you do that? >

He pulls his hand back again, warily. He will do as he is told, of course--the hawk knows better than he the extent of its injuries--but he wants to protest. There is nothing fine about the angle that the hawk has fallen into this bush, or the angle of its body. Something must surely be broken--and there is nothing fine in Bran's part in this. I should be more careful, he thinks, for this place is not like Westeros. There are strange people and strange animals everywhere.

And just as there is little point in lying about what he has done, there is still less a point in lying about how he did it. It is a secret, but he has let the hawk in on it by mistake. He owes an explanation at least. So he bites at his lip a second before he answers: "I am a warg."

And it feels strange to say it aloud, and he bunches his hands into loose fists, trying not to feel stupid and childish. "It means I can borrow the skin of animals, and be them, for a time. It is a secret, and a gift--I was practicing it at home, before I came aboard this ship, and I thought to use it with you--just to turn you away from Summer, so there was no fight. I didn't know."

It does not lift his guilt--if anything, it makes him feel slightly worse. It sounds like excuses, and a man of the north does not make excuses. But instead, Bran shakes his head, trying to clear himself of these thoughts. "How do you talk, like this?"

So he was like a telepath, in a way. Tobias was pretty sure he'd read something like this in a fantasy book once, sorcerers who could borrow the eyes of birds and other animals. He blinks, head cocking at the boy, and he an feel his heartrate slowly coming down from the adrenalin. It also meant his body was starting to throb as the pain caught up with him.

 He responds tightly, because it's the easiest thing to say, and he's heard others up here use the term. The girl, Jaye, who works with the animals comes to mind. His small bird chest heaves as he takes a breath. Now that the initial panic has worn off, he— does need some help. < Listen, I'm stuck in this branch, can you help me without jostling my wing too much? >

At the word shapeshifter Bran thinks of Jaye, too--she who was sworn to Sansa, who offered advice when he asked of warging. So there were more like her, which means that this hawk has a human face that he is not using. It is interesting, and as different from warging as it is similar.

"I can try," he says, and carefully moves forward, examining the way that the shapeshifter bird is caught in the branch. It will be no easy task to free him without causing him some pain, but if he is careful, he can do it. "Is there anyone aboard that can mend your wing for you?" And he thinks, then, of when he wears Summer's skin, and how the pain of being hurt as Summer lingers-- "Will your arm be broken when you are yourself again?"

And even as he asks the question, he tentatively reaches for the branch, moving it just a little, wary of making the shapeshifter cry out.

It isn't easy, that's for sure, but after the initial break, Tobias thinks he has a better handle on his messed up wing. It didn't make the pain any less, especially not when the branches started moving, but he keeps his beak shut to stop from scaring the boy. He's a lot more dexterous than Tobias thought he would be, though.

< No, it won't. > He finally says, as he'd been concentarting on getting untangled. Between the two of them he's out soon enough, but the wing is still at an odd angle, throbbing up into his shoulder as he awkwardly steps away from the bush. < I'm guessing not a lot of people know you can do that. >

Bran frowns a little at the angled wing--but his worry lessens when he learns it is an injury that will not linger. But will it still be broken when he changes back? He wants to ask it, but the shapeshifter's statement distracts him--at least, for the moment.

"No," he confesses, biting at his lip, "it is a secret, and-- please, you must keep it secret for me. It is better that way. And I am not very good at it yet. There is much that I still have to learn." There is a little pause, as he observes the hawk, and then, tentatively, he guesses: "Yours is a secret too, isn't it?"

< If you keep my secret, I'll keep yours, > Tobias says, turning his fierce eyes up to the boy. < Almost nobody up here knows what I am, and I need to keep it that way. > The way he says it suggests something bigger and more terrible is at work. Tobias isn't an expert on kids, he's barely a teenager himself, but some things were pretty universal.

Well does Bran know secrets; well does he know the importance of keeping some information held back. Sometimes he hates how well he knows it--before, his only secrets were small and silly things, though they had seemed so important at the time: who ate Rickon's maple cake, who stained Sansa's white riding gloves, who trapped the sparrow in the kitchens. Now his secrets are more dire, and as he stares at the hawk, he feels that this must be dire, too.

"I will not tell. I swear it on my honor." It is a good promise--it might seem one too serious, or perhaps foolish to make when he does not know why the shapeshifter must keep himself secret--but Bran feels how important it is, and he cannot ignore that. Still, curiosity moves him to ask: "Are you in some danger?"

Which was as honest as Tobias felt he could be. It would be so easy for a Yeerk to show up on this ship and find out what he was. People went back all the time, he'd heard, and if there was a small chance that anyone who knew what he was told, or worse, was infested—

The Animorphs would be ruined, and so would Earth.

< There are people who would kill me if they knew, but I'm not sure if they're here. >

And at that, he thinks of Theon Greyjoy and his ironborn; he thinks of Winterfell, burnt and empty, and the mask of the dead boy's face. He thinks of the Lannisters and their armies, of Queen Cersei and King Joffrey, and the look Alayne had worn when she spoke of them. Well does he know danger, too, and so it is without any hesitation that Bran answers the shapeshifter's words with a solemn nod.

"If they are here, or should they come, then I will help you." For where would the Starks have been without those loyal to them, even here? If someone is alone and in need of help, then they must fast make allies. "My brothers and I, and our direwolves--we will all help you. I pledge it on my name as a Stark, and on my House."

It's almost strange, to hear how easily he can offer himself to a cause, but then Tobias thinks back on the beginning, when he'd been ready to throw himself into this fight that feasibly wasn't even his own. He's so used to trusting none but his own (and after David, could anyone blame him?) that to hear this boy decide with all seriousness he'd help.

< Uh, thanks, > He almost sounds embarrassed before he recovers:

Again he nods, seriously and without any embarrassment at all, sealing this vow. It is less common for people to speak so earnestly of such things, he knows that, but matters like this call for strong words. And perhaps he should tell Robb of his promise--later, when he has learned more of this shapeshifter. But Robb should know that their name has been sworn to this cause.

That claim makes Bran wrinkle his nose a little. "Then what were you doing?" It had looked exactly like an attack, the same way Winterfell's hawks might light upon prey--but no hawk was ever so mad as to attack a wolf.

The ache in his wing is becoming more pronounced, and though Tobias has been through plenty of battles with worse injuries, that doesn't mean it doesn't hurt any less when the adrenalin starts wearing off. He struggles not to shift, or to turn and start preening it, like that might help.

 This wasn't anything new, at least as far as knowledge about the morphing technology went. 

If there's a slight hopeful note in his tone there, he doesn't try to disguise it.

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sorry this is late!!!

not as late as me!!

LATE TOGETHER FOREVER c:

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