Hear me Roar - English version

CHAPTER 3 - Take care of him

               Kneeling beside my little brother's lifeless body, I weep, helpless. My body is paralyzed with fear; I don't even dare to touch him. It is because his survival would be nothing short of a miracle that I refuse to confirm his death.

               Maester Luwin stands up after checking Bran's pulse. He places his hand on my shoulder; I hear him speaking to me, but I don't look at him. I don't want to take my eyes off my little brother, convinced he'll vanish. I feel as if I'm in a fog. I make out voices, including Tyrion's, but don't understand a single word.

               Two guards lift Bran's body. Still kneeling on the ground, I keep my eyes fixed on the spot where he was lying. Tyrion's warmer hand strokes my arm. Reality suddenly hits me.

               If my mother is at Bran's bedside and my father is out hunting, all the responsibilities fall to me. After letting my tears flow, I stand up and turn to the few soldiers still waiting for my orders.

"Send a man to find my father. I want this tower searched from top to bottom. And tell Septa Mordanne to take charge of Rickon."

"Yes, my lady."

               Tyrion approaches me again.

"You don't have to..."

"I do. In my father's absence, this duty falls to me."

"Would you like me to accompany you?"

"Accompany me? Where?"

"To see your brother."

"My mother is with him... I think that's enough. He... He wouldn't even notice I was there..."

               To my surprise, Tyrion doesn't insist. I think he understood that I'm simply afraid. Some might say I'm a coward; I admit it—I should be at my little brother's bedside. But this fear... No one would dare face it head-on.

♐︎

               Since the Bran accident a few days ago, Winterfell has been running in slow motion. We all live in anticipation of his awakening or, rather, in fear that he will not wake up.

               My mother spent every day and night at her bedside, I don't think she slept for a single second. Personally, I try not to let my concern appear. I keep smiling and laughing, relating to my brother's faint breathing.

               As I go to the main hall for lunch, I find myself in front of a most unusual scene. Tyrion, my new friend, has just repeatedly slapped Prince Joffrey, my future husband. I don't know what the latter had just said as insanity, but it was one of the most satisfying things I have ever seen.

               I join Tyrion before he enters the great hall, a big smile on his face.

"Sir! Does this kind of thing happen often in the capital?"

"Lady Stark... Now you're amused! I thought you liked my nephew."

"I don't think I hate him, it's true..."

               We continue our way to the table where are already busy the queen and her children, as well as Jaime.

"Majesty. Lord Jaime."

"Lady Diana!" exclaims the latter, smiling. "Please have a seat."

"It is very kind of you to allow me to sit in my own house, Sir."

♐︎

               I listen to the little family chatting without adding a word. They don't ask me any questions, I don't ask them any, and that suits me just fine. Finally, a moment where no one will talk to me about my dying brother.