𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐓𝐀𝐑𝐆𝐀𝐑𝐘𝐄𝐍 𝐓𝐖𝐈𝐍𝐒

𝐱 𝕴𝐧 𝕿𝐡𝐚𝐭 𝕯𝐚𝐫𝐤𝐧𝐞𝐬𝐬

𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐏𝐫𝐨𝐩𝐡𝐞𝐜𝐲 𝐖𝐫𝐢𝐭𝐭𝐞𝐧 𝐈𝐧 𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐒𝐭𝐚𝐫𝐬
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____ Through the hours of midday in the North, a summer breeze drifted throughout Winterfell's walls. The wind sent chills down the Northerners spines, resulting in them pulling their thin cloaks closer to themselves to savor whatever warmth they could find. Distant barking of hounds echoed from the kennels, an occurring sound in the castle, while accented with the nickers and whinnying of the horses inside of the stables, beside the gates to the castle. The Northern sky was as blue as the pond beside the Weirwood tree that day, with speckles of clouds spread across it, providing shade from the sun, that didn't much heat up the vast Northern lands.

Some weeks had passed since the news of young Bran Stark's awakening, and the Northerners couldn't have been happier to read the letter from the ravens.

The direwolf of creamy-white fur, similar to the shade of the sun, hadn't left his Stark's side since the night the assassin tried to kill young Bran, but with the awakening of the boy, Summer would leave the Stark's room to hunt with his siblings, more often than not, in the Godswood, which brightened Bran's dampened spirits, glad that his wolf could enjoy the woods, even if he couldn't.

The young boy had been heartbroken when he was told that he had lost the use of his legs as a result of the fall from the broken watchtower.

Therefore, the young Stark would spend most of his time laying under the blankets of his bed, telling anyone who came to his door that he didn't want to see them, excepting his brothers and Old Nan. Even now, during the beautiful day in the North, the young Stark was laying on his bed, blankets pulled to his chin, as Old Nan sat in a chair beside his bed, knitting something the boy couldn't yet make out.

Removing his gaze from the ceiling above him, Bran's eyes laid on his brother's relaxed form, sitting on the windowsill beside the bed with his head laying on his arm, as his legs dangled over the edge of the stone-made seat of the windowsill. The direwolves, Alysanne and Summer, were laying beside the secondborn Stark's booted feet, with the black wolf closer to the wooden door, always wary of any threats towards her Stark and his siblings. Even though all three of them were sleeping, Bran was comforted by the presence of the fierce wolves and his protective older brother, knowing nothing could harm him with Rikson and the direwolves near him.

Whenever Old Nan's frightening tales echoed in the back of the young boy's head, when he were younger, Bran would always run to Rikson, knowing he would defend him against anyone or anything.

Rikson's presence was always a form of security for  the young Stark, as is the same for all of the Stark children, though Bran took the most security in his brother, having been told how Rikson had killed a village of Wildings a year ago, and Bran knew the savages weren't easily killed. The Valyrian steel sword, named Wrath, belonging to the secondborn Stark only proved Bran's point that his brother could defend him from anything.