Sacrifice Is a Beautiful Thing (Jojen Reed)

C H A P T E R 6

Mara POV

Bran had joined us as well. It was a bright morning, well, as bright as it ever got here at Winterfell. Little Bran had dared Mara to try to snare Summer. Mara had laughingly accepted.

So now Jojen and I were sitting against a tree watching Mara and Summer tussle.

Meera moved in a wary circle around Summer, wielding a slender spear. Summer's golden eyes followed Meera as her lithe figure danced around. 

All of a sudden, Meera gave a cry, "Yaii!"as she thrust her spear. Summer ducked to the left and jumped towards her. Meera's net landed squarely onto Summer, but Summer slammed right into Meera and knocked her flat on the damp grass.

Bran hooted proudly, "You lose."

I jumped as Jojen spoke from beside me, "She wins. Summer's snared."

Bran's face fell, but he conceded when he saw Summer struggling to get free of the net. He said, a little grumpily, "Let him out."

Meera laughed, rolled up, and undid a knot on the net. With a few deft tugs, it came free.

"Let me show you something," Bran said excitedly. I inwardly groaned.

"Summer, to me," he commanded, "Watch," he said, right before the wolf bounded up right into him. They rolled around, tussling playfully.

Meera shook her head, despite laughing, "Does he never grow angry?"

Bran grabbed Summer by the ears and Summer snapped at him playfully, "Not with me."

"If he'd gotten past my net..." Meera trailed off.

"He wouldn't hurt you. He knows I like you."

Of course, even after all the haughty lords had departed, the Reeds had stayed to become their companions. Meera was beautiful in her own way. She seemed like Arya sometimes, a tomboy with a loud laugh. Jojen - Jojen was different. He was strange. His eyes were a murky mossy green, with pools of experience within them. When he looked at you, it seemd as if he were looking right through you, at something else.

Bran was curious, unquenchable. He asked Meera, "Did your master-at-arms teach you netfighting?"

Meera stroked Summer, "No, my father taught me. At Greywater we have no knights. No maester either."

Bran frowned, bemused, "Then who keeps your ravens?"

Meera smiled, showing her pearly teeth, "Ravens can't find Greywater Watch, no more than our enemies can."

"Why not?"

"Because it moves."

I chuckled as Bran's eyes grew big, "I wish I could see it. Do you think your lord father would let me come visit when the war is over?" he asked longingly.

"You would be most welcome, my prince. Then or now."

Jojen sighed and turned his head away.

Bran mused, "I could ask Ser Rodrik when he returns. He might let me go. Maester Luwin never would."

Jojen spoke up, "It would be good if you left Winterfell, Bran."

"It would?" Bran merely looked puzzled.

"Yes. And sooner rather than later."

Meera interjected, "My brother has the greensight. He dreams things that haven't happened, but sometimes they do."

"There is no sometimes, Meera," he said sternly. A look passed between them; him sad, her defiant.

"Tell me what's going to happen," Bran demanded.