A Lion In The Wolves Den ||GOT x OCs||

⚔️-BRAN-⚔️

"What is it?"
         Jon asked, getting off of his Horse, approaching the eldest Stark son followed by Bran at his heel. Bran looked upon the butchered creature, it was missing an antler on the left side of its head, blood still pouring from the gaping hole.
"Mountain Lion?"
       Questioned the ginger man, his arms crossed over his chest as he shrugged his shoulders. Ned turned back to the man, pulling out his sword preparing to search for whatever dangerous creature might have been responsible.
"No Mountain lion's this far north"
       Bran looked around following his brothers into the wood, his eyes were looking for a particular face one he could not find among the men with their swords drawn.
"Where is Honey?"
      He asked, his tone slightly concerned, his brows furrowing as his head whipped around to look behind him. Ser Rodrik turned quickly, also looking behind him assuming his daughter did not have the courage to venture far, foolish thinking really. They marched through the snow, their weariness now having the added panic as they called the girl's name.
"You should have never brought that girl along, Bran. She's nothing but trouble."
       Commented Eddard's ward, his tone hid his concern under his annoyance, the way an older brother would if his little sister had somehow gotten in trouble and it was his job to clean up whatever mess it was that she left in her wake.
"Shut your mouth, Theon."
      Bran shouted, lifting his chest to appear bigger, his challenge earned a scoff from the older boy. Ser Rodrik placed a hand on Bran's shoulder,
"Not so loud boy, we still don't know what's out there"
      The white haired man said, before turning to Theon with a snarl, looking down at him in both stature and in standing.
"You'll do well to remember who put you on your ass during your training"
      Theon just groaned and rolled his eyes, he knew the girl well enough to know she was fine on her own for a short while. The snow was thick despite it being summer and the trees cast a great shadow over the wood, the men agreed to split off in search except for Bran who stayed close to his father. Not long after Jon rushed towards his father and half brother a look of disbelief on his face,
"Father, Bran, come quickly, see what Honey has found!"
      Ser Rodrik approached the two looking to Jon then back at lord Eddard,
"Trouble, my lord?"
"Beyond a doubt." The lord said. "Come, let us see what mischief our children have rooted out now"
Eddard spoke with a chuckle watching as Bran eagerly chased after his half-brother, the two fathers followed after them and when they  came to a stop they found Robb and Honey on the riverbank north of the bridge. Robb was kneeling into the deep snow looking into the arms of the girl beside him, as the men talked in hushed and curious voices.
     Rodrik and Theon were the first to reach them, Theon was laughing at some joke he had made but his breath quickly left him, "gods!" he exclaimed, covering mouth and backing away from the scene. Rodrik's sword was already removed from its sheath,
"Honey, Robb, get away from it!"
Robb grinned and looked up from the bundle in the girls hands, "She can't hurt us Ser Rodrik," he said "She's dead"
      Bran was afire with curiosity by then, he abandoned his fathers side running toward the girl and the mysterious contents of her arms.
"What in the seven hells is it?"
       Theon asked, his lip as if he had a bad taste in his mouth, looking down at the creature with disgust.
"A wolf," The blonde girl told him.
"A freak" Theon corrected, taking the girl's shoulder and pulling her back away from the beast. "look at the size of it."
       Bran's heart was thumping in his chest as he pushed through the snow, to his companions' side.
         Half-buried in the snow, a huge dark shape slumped in death. Ice formed in its shaggy gray fur, and the faint smell of corruption clung to it like a woman's perfume. A long tan colored antler created a gaping hole in the creature's neck, blood surrounding the animal's body as it lay there unmoving. Bran glanced at blind eyes crawling with maggots and a mouth full of yellow teeth, his gaze moved up to the girl beside him who looked down at the animal.
          He expected to see tears in her eyes and a solemn expression on her face but he was surprised to see as she looked at the animal with indifference, not glad by its passing but certainly not upset by it.
"It does not feel like a person feels, its death does not hurt me"
         She said as she looked at his eyes that lingered on her's, not realizing that he had stated his concerns aloud. His eyes looked back at the large beast, it was larger than any of the hoods and twice the size of one of the ponies in the horse stalls,
"It's no freak," Jon said, turning to Theon. "It's a direwolf"
"There hasn't been a direwolf south of the wall in two hundred years"
          Ser Rodrik said, placing his sword back at his side.
"I see one now," Jon said.
          Ned, crouched beside the direwolf and ripped the antler from its body,
"Tough old beast…"
          Bran tore his eyes away from the monster, his attention turning to the wiggling bundle in Honey's arms, she smiled down at it pulling away her cloak that she had wrapped around the creature.
"There are no direwolves south of the wall," Theon commented.
"Now there are five." Jon replied, pulling the pup out of Honey's arms gently, and offering it to Bran. The pup was a tiny ball of gray-black fur, its eyes still closed at it squirmed in Jon's hold.
"Go on," Robb told him. "You can touch him"
         Bran gave the pup a quick nervous stroke, then looked up as Jon said,
"Here you go." His half-brother put the pup into Bran's arms.
         Bran looked down at the tiny beast in his arms nervously then up to the girl that stood across from him, she smiled and stuck out her hand petting the pup's head. Bran hugged the wolf pup to his face, its fur was soft and warm against his cheek. Honey giggled at how quickly Bran became attached to the helpless creature, as if he had loved the beast his whole life.
"Direwolves loose in the realm, after so many years," muttered Ser Rodrik, "I like it not."
        The lord of Winterfell looked down at the beast that laid unmoving in the snow, "I'm surprised she lived long enough to welp" he said, his voice breaking the silence that followed Ser Rodrik's complaint.
        "Maybe she didn't" Robb said shrugging his shoulders, a pup finding its way into his own arms. "I've heard tales….maybe the bitch was already dead when the pups came"
"What old nan tells you doesn't count" teased Theon, crossing his arms over his chest.
"No matter," Said Rodrik, "they will be dead soon enough too."
        The children let out a wordless cry of dismay, looking up at the man.
"The sooner the better," Theon agreed, he drew his sword, "give the beast here, Bran."
       The little thing squirmed against him, as if it heard and understood. The girl beside his put an arm in front of the creature, glaring up at Theon the best a ten-year-old girl could, though her gaze would never hold any hate for the man, making it all the less intimidating. (not that it ever was in the first place)
"No!" Bran cried out fiercely, "it's mine."
      "Put your sword away, Greyjoy,"  Robb said. For a moment he sounded as commanding as his father, like the lord he would someday be. "We will keep these pups"
       "You cannot do that, boy." Said Ser Rodrik, "it is a mercy to kill them,"
       Bran looked to his father for rescue, but got only a frown and a furrowed brow. "Rodrik speaks truly, son. Better a swift death than a hard one from cold and starvation."
        "No!" Bran could feel tears welling in his eyes, and he looked away. He did not want to cry in front of his father. Honey took his arm, resting her hand over the one that held the pup, looking down at it with a saddened expression.
         Robb resisted stubbornly. "Ser Jory's red bitch whelped again last week," he said, "it was a small litter, only two live pups. She'll have milk enough"
      "She'll rip them apart when they try to nurse"
       "Lord Stark," Jon said. It was strange to hear him call his father that so formally. Bran looked up at him with desperate hope. "There are five pups," Jon told his father, "three male, two female."
        "What of it, Jon?"
         "You have five true born children," Jon said. "Three sons, two daughters. The direwolf is the sigil of your House. Your children were meant to have them, my lord."
         Bran saw his father's face change, and noticed the other men exchange glances. Honey squeezed his arm smiling over at him, she had always been better at reading people than he was. Brown looked at her face then turned back to look at his half-brother. He loved Jon with all his heart at that moment. The count was only right because Jon omitted himself. He had included the girls, included Rickon, the baby, but not the bastard who bore the surname Snow. The name that custom decreed be given to all those in the north unlucky enough to be born with no name of their own, much like the name Hill that belonged to the girl who stood slightly behind him, though no one had the heart to remind her of that fact in a long time.
        The Lord understood as well. "You want no pup for yourself, Jon?" He asked softly.
       "The direwolf graces the banners of House Stark," Jon pointed out. "I am no Stark, Father"
         Honey thought of what would have happened if the youngest Stark girl had heard such words fall from the man's mouth, surely she'd quite literally smack some sense into him but as young Arya was not there, Honey would have to do it for her. The girl stepped on Jon's heel, though he ignored the slight sting giving her nothing but a small huff to signal he had felt it at all.
        His Lord father regarded Jon thoughtfully. Robb rushed into the silence he left. "I will nurse him myself, Father," he promised. "I will soak a towel with warm milk, and let him suck from that."
       "Me too!" Bran echoed.
      The lord weighed his sons long and carefully with his eyes. "Easy to say, harder to do. I will not have you wasting the servants time with this, if you want these pups you will feed them yourselves, you will train them yourselves. And if they die, you will bury them yourselves."
        Bran nodded eagerly. The pup squirmed in his grasp, licked his face with a warm tongue.
"The pups may die anyway, despite all you do."
"They won't die," Robb said. "We won't let them die"
"Keep them, then. Ser Rodrik, Theon, gather up the other pups. It's time we were back at Winterfell."