•[[chapter one]]•
After the very long and very tiring notion of getting clothes on for the morning Bran managed to get himself and the wheelchair he was stuck in to the kitchen, Summer trailed behind. His mother had moved all the furniture out of the way so he could wheel through. It bothered him, her constant adjustments since his fall. It was five years ago for gods' sakes!
Arya, One of his sisters, was seated at the breakfast table and poking boredly at her cereal. Sansa, Bran's elder sister and Arya's "better half", was reading a magazine atop a stool in the corner, her dog Lady resting her head upon white paws on the ground at Sansa's feet. His eldest brother, Robb, was presumably in the garage fixing something for father. Jon, their half brother, was probably wherever Robb was. At least that's what Bran guessed.
And lastly that left Rickon, Bran's only younger sibling and the youngest in their family, the black husky the little Stark named Shaggydog paced around the boy as he was struggling to read the book Shireen had gave him. That seemed like Rickon, always trying to impress her. Bran thought it was cute his little brother had a crush on the kid with the tragic burn scars on her face, despite Shireen being a year older. Bran met the girl at his trauma support group where they talked about their feelings after receiving injuries from things that "scarred" them mentally and physically. Bran had been "accidentally" pushed from a window by a "family friend" that was more so a "business rival" to his father's company. It wasn't his fault he'd walked in on Jaime Lannister screwing his own sister. He shuddered just thinking about THAT mental image. Shireen had almost gotten burned to death and still had burn scars and scratches on the left side of her face and neck. It was just faded white lines and bumps now but it was still awful to behold. Rickon usually accompanied Bran to support group, he'd push Bran's wheelchair if their parents or older siblings weren't around. Rickon loved helping him, but he loved it even more when he got to converse with Shireen whenever they went.
"Morning." Bran muttered half heartedly as he pushed himself to the table. Arya gave him a nod and placed her half full cereal dish on the counter before sorting through her dance bag.
Arya wasn't exactly the "girly ballerina" type of dancer, in fact, she revoked that stereotype in every way possible. She danced and perfected the highest and most disciplined form of senior ballet at the age of nine; Which Bran was pretty sure was impossible, especially because Arya also did fencing lessons. When she was ten, she danced on a broken leg, that's right. She broke her leg five days before her recital and danced perfectly anyways. She was the same age Bran had been when he'd fell and lost his legs entirely. He loved Arya, he just was envious of her legs he couldn't use himself.
"Good morning Bran." Sansa chirped, looking up from her magazine. Bran liked Sansa, she wasn't the closest to him, the others were far more involved with him. But she gave him respect, didn't baby him like Robb or Jon (well at least not all the time). Bran liked that as much as he liked Sansa. So when she acknowledged him he smiled back and thanked god Arya left the cereal, milk, and extra bowls on the table as he fixed himself breakfast.
"Where's mom?" Bran asked quietly.
"She's in the garage with dad and Robb." Arya responded.
"What about Jon?" Rickon questioned.
"He's upstairs." Sansa explained. Arya nodded in agreement.
Bran looked up the ramp, they'd replaced their stair case with a spiral ramp four years ago, even if Bran's room was on the first floor and he didn't go up there much anyways.
"You wanna see him?" Rickon asked, putting his book down and jumping to his feet. Shaggydog turned his large head in attention.
"Uh yeah. Thanks Rick." Bran mumbled as his thirteen year old brother pushed him up the ramp, both of their wolfish dogs trailing behind. It wasn't that long but it felt like ages had passed when Rickon let him go at the top.
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When it all ends
Fanfiction-It was one of those days, Bran thought as he pulled himself out of bed and reached for his wheelchair, his paralysed legs dangling uselessly behind him. He misplaced his hand and fell to the floor. His dog Summer came to his side and licked his han...
