The Drakebane

The Drakebane

1 B.C

Bran was sitting in a crouched position, his cloak coming over his sides as he slowly measured the rope in the earthy humus-ridden soil of the grove near the pond. Here the winds were still, shielded by the trellis and branches that winded and wove a world of their own here, a peaceful world. A quiet, contemplative one, one making young Bran remember as his mind started to wander.

I'll be here, don't worry. Make sure it's done, do what's needed, Bran, Bryeana. Her words echoed through in his mind and then slowly, somehow hearing the echoes started around him as well. The soft rustling of red, dry leaves that softly brushed the quiet pond's still surface, an old voice in his memory. He looked around slowly, nothing but the chatter of nature. He sighed, going back down to his work. The thread had been marked before, all he had to do was measure it off and then-

A step.

Bran looked behind him, soon the sole step growing into a clamor of footsteps that ended somewhere near the entrance at the periphery, he was sat crouched still, only head turned.

"I cannot convince you of what you must do, my love", a lordly woman's voice came, Bran already hooking himself up the old, thick, windy branches to easily reach out of sight, then deftly reaching to higher echelons among the leaves that cloaked his presence.

"But, I can advise you, and I do advise you to do this", the King of the North turned to his queen, probably the last ever that title would be handed out from what Bran could grimly see, "Stand down, husband. Do not send thousands to the burning death only reserved for the evilest of men. Why must brothers and fathers and sons burn when there is no hope of victory?"

The woman had a point, Bran had to admit shaking his head and widening his eyes, Queen Elyane was adamant in her posture, in a regal-looking red gown pattern and lined in brown fur hugging her collars down to her waist. The king in his usual battle cloak and armor lightly adorned.

"I understand, Elly", the King said ruefully, even from up here he could hear his crown-wearing half brother's love for the newlywed woman, with graceful gold spun hair that curled down to her waist, now braid up to her shoulders, "I promise you, I will do only what is best of the North, no matter the cost.", he lovingly reached up to the queen's face that was graceful and in anguish after the words she had spoken. At the calming smile from the King; she smiled, a tear-jerking free as she came to his embrace. Bran flushing at witnessing this intimacy, usually seeing a strict Matriarch who ran a tight ship.

Sighing, again, this time he took the thin piece of thread and looked around. The wood here was younger, more limber, and perhaps even more flexible? If so then he could play with the winds, Yes, this will do, he thought internally with glee.

Reaching into his deep pockets to find a small handled tool that hooked into the wooden body of a millennia-old weirwood tree. He worked quietly, the royal couple sat below the old rock as couples of the same title had done generations of Starks past. Dating all the way to the First Folk, if Bran remembered those stories. The hooks slowly clamped into the fiber flesh of the smooth white surface, turning the handles then he scooped out a cylinder out, measuring it, working with a highly sharp, infinitely folded Valerian knife he'd won over dice against a Freewoman. Smiling, he then reached for one side of the cylinder and started sharpening, the process taking quiet minutes as the couple below was quiet in prayer, no doubt praying for the North. Well, Bran didn't really believe in all that, if anyone was going to save the North, he knew it was going to be him.

Queen Elayne Stark moved out, her clamoring entourage moving behind her as quietly as they could, the King still stood standing after kissing her goodbye. Before the pond, the man turned around was broad and tall, in his forties with five children to his name, and him technically next in line to the throne, if but only. The younger ones were already off to Gull Town, nowhere close to where the conflict would be hottest once the fight broke out.