He was back in the Haunted Forest, reliving the time when White Walkers sealed victory. As they neared him, again, he sucked in chilling wind that hurt his nose. This time, maybe.
When he felt the fire churn in his bodice, he let go with all the strength he could stomach. Again, all that escaped his lips was cool smoke.
The past is already written. The ink is dry.
Snow fell on his face, but melted against hot skin. It took him but a second to realize that he was in the now. Tall, cold stone walls stood before him. Bran heard Meera speak behind, but words did not register. His heart melted with relief as he saw the gates of home in reality and not dreams.
As Meera Reed spoke to the sentries, dreams became in Bran’s mind memories. The Defiance of Duskendale, he recalled. The Ice Dragon. As one of the guards went inside, presumably to call Lady Lyanna, Bran’s eyes widened as truth and time became one.
Robert’s Rebellion…
“Bran, what is the matter?” Meera was looking at him now, eyes frowned in worry. “You were under a long time. Are the visions hard to control? What happened to Robert’s Rebellion?”
It was after Meera’s words that Bran realized he was, indeed, muttering Robert’s Rebellion to himself. While delving into times past and future became increasingly simple, it came at the cost of personal control. Bran spoke of what he had done. “It was me, Meera,” he said. “I made Aerys Targaryen mad.”
“You… what?”
Sins escaped Bran’s mouth like ghosts now. “I began Robert’s Rebellion,” he was saying. “The White Walkers have a dragon. I tried to fix things. I thought I could make things right, but… but…”
Bran’s speech faltered to an abrupt halt. The fever had severely worn him out, every sentence made his mouth and nose hurt, and with the cold, his hands were halfway to feeling as numb and lifeless as his feet. Meera, who seemed to have gathered her bearings, bent and looked into his eyes. “Do not fool yourself, Bran,” she said. “Of course you can make things right.”
The gates opened.
“Lord Brandon Stark,” another lady said, eyes bright and lips beaming. “Welcome home.”
*
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