Wintry winds hit them hard, yet all Brandon Stark saw was fire. Lords, ladies, common men writhed into ashes in front of him as the waters lashed the shore with unrelenting ferocity. He saw grasslands filled with flames, heard the screech of beasts and the dying howl of summer, the dream of summer, summer that would never arrive.
He saw Old Nan, glaring at him with bloodshot eyes. She was knitting. “Fear is for the winter, when the snows fall a hundred feet deep.” Bran did not hear her. He was too aghast watching her eyes fall off their sockets, even though Old Nan barely noticed them.
Then Meera was there, slapping him all over his face, begging for him to wake up. She looked paler than ever. “You were asleep again,” she said, when Bran woke up. “Where had you gone?”
“I- I don’t know,” Bran said. It did not take him long to realize the tears in his eyes, as if someone had just sliced an onion. His heart was throbbing, composure was alien to him. “It’s… it’s these visions, Meera. I cannot control them. Every time I sleep, I don’t know where I will wake – if I will wake.” He could not recognize the snowy woods around him. They must have travelled a fair distance while he was under. “How long was I… asleep?”
“A day, maybe two. It is hard to keep track of hours. The sun has not shown itself for a long time.” Meera still seemed shaken. “Listen to me, Bran – these dreams, they have to be the norm. You’re the Three-Eyed Raven now-”
“I know I am!” Bran retorted. “But I didn’t ask for any of this.” More tears were falling down his cheeks.
“I know you did not,” Meera said, afraid she had said the wrong thing. “Jojen used to have the same kind of visions you did. I know it is a lot to take in. I know it may be hard to control them. All I’m saying is… I’m here to help.”
“Th- thank you.” Bran was shaking, he realized, and not all of it was down to the cold. He regretted his outburst. “How far away are we, anyway?” he said.
“Not a lot,” Meera said, her countenance lightening, now that Bran had changed the subject. “Do you see the gleam in front of us?”
Amongst the darkness it was very faint but visible enough. It did not seem far away, but in this weather, Bran knew the journey would take them more than a couple of days. “What is it?” he asked, even though he knew the answer.
“The Wall,” Meera replied eagerly. “Castle Black.”
*
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