Chapter Four

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"What were you thinking? You're not a man, therefore, you do not go hunting with the men." The queen stared down at her daughter who sat on the edge of her bed in a gown splattered with boar's blood. "I thought sending you up here to serious, boring, plain old and honourable Ned Stark would teach you these things. Yet, here you are." Yet here she was, praised by her father who, until this day, had paid her no mind, and scolded by her mother who had promised to give her what she wanted. "I hope that you were not too set on returning to King's Landing." The criticising Lori could deal with, but this was different -this was the one thing she'd been praying for since she was ten years. "Change before supper, you look wild." Cersei's disdain for the North was clear to anyone who dared speak with her. She was on edge constantly. Her daughter was beginning to see her differently.

While the hunting party was out praising Lorinna's eyes, Brandon Stark had fallen from a tall tower looking for any sight of them. His fall had left the family of Winterfell a mess, all weeping and praying, delaying the departure of the King's travelling party, but they were, excluding the broken boy and his mother, still to dine with the Lannisters and Baratheons on their last night in the Castle. The boar the King had slain would provide enough food for the families and guards. Lori had not yet been able to bring herself to see Bran. The boy was similar to a brother. When she'd finally gathered herself to, the princess walked the long grey halls for one of the last times. When the door creaked open Lady Catelyn's head turned to face it quickly, eyes glistening with fear as she took her son's hand in her own. Lady Catelyn's face softened when she saw Lori, but the weariness in her eyes was unmistakable. The silence between them stretched as the princess stepped closer to Bran's bed, her hands clasped together tightly to keep herself from trembling. She looked down at the boy who had once climbed towers and laughed fearlessly in the face of danger. Now, he lay still, the rise and fall of his chest barely perceptible. Lori hesitated before speaking. "He looks calm, tranquil," she whispered, though her voice was strained, barely holding back the sob that threatened to escape.

Catelyn nodded, her hand trembling as she reached out to stroke her son's hair. "He's always been a sweet boy, full of life," she said softly, though her tone was tinged with grief. "I never thought..." Her voice broke, and for a moment, she seemed lost in her own world of sorrow. Then, with a heavy sigh, she turned back to Lori, her expression both kind and exhausted. "Thank you for coming. It means a great deal." Lori tried to offer a comforting smile but found she couldn't. Instead, her mind drifted to the memory of Bran calling out to her from the window. She could almost hear his giddy laughter echoing through the halls of Winterfell. She swallowed hard, her throat tight with the memory.
"Do you remember when Bran and I climbed the tower from my room?" Lori asked quietly, her voice distant as she tried to hold back tears. "You and Ned were calling up to us for almost half an hour, and we didn't even notice." A faint, sad smile touched her lips. "He was always so determined, so full of energy... I wish I had joined him more often."
Lady Catelyn blinked, her eyes welling with fresh tears as she recalled the memory. "He loved those towers," she said, her voice cracking. "I would always tell him it wasn't safe, that he needed to stay on the ground, but Bran was never one to be kept from anything he wanted."

Lori nodded, her gaze falling back to Bran's still form. "Nothing any of us could've said would have stopped him. It was all he wanted to do." She paused, her voice trembling. "And I understand it. I understand wanting to feel... unstoppable." Catelyn looked at her, her lips pressed into a thin line, trying to remain composed. She took a deep breath and nodded, understanding the weight of Lori's words. The silence in the room stretched on as they both stood there, grieving for the boy who had once been so full of life and reckless joy. Lori hesitated, unsure if she should say more, unsure if her presence was comforting or simply another reminder of the life Bran had lost. But Catelyn, with a sudden burst of energy, wrapped her arms around the girl, pulling her into a tight embrace.
"You loved him like a brother," Catelyn whispered, her voice hoarse. "I know that." Lori closed her eyes, allowing herself to be held, though her own heart felt like it was breaking. She had loved Bran like a brother, and seeing him like this felt like losing a piece of her childhood.
When they pulled away, Lori tried to compose herself. She looked down at Bran one last time before turning to leave. "If there's anything I can do—" she started to say, but Catelyn shook her head gently.

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