𝓡𝓞𝓢𝓔, 𝑔𝒶𝓂𝑒 𝑜𝒻 𝓉𝒽𝓇𝑜𝓃𝑒𝓈 ¹

𝐂𝐇𝐀𝐏𝐓𝐄𝐑 𝐓𝐄𝐍, 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐬𝐨𝐧𝐬

"𝐈 𝐀𝐌 𝐆𝐋𝐀𝐃 𝐈 𝐀𝐌 𝐍𝐎𝐓 𝐀 𝐖𝐎𝐌𝐀𝐍"

THE LORD OF WINTERFELL'S ELDEST SON wanders about the halls of his home, making his way towards the room his youngest brother, Bran Stark, is bound to. After his fall from the tower, one that Eyan thinks is suspicious but says nothing about, Bran had been unconscious for so long Eyan wasn't sure the boy would ever wake up. Fortunately, he did eventually wake, though Maester Luwin made a quick discovery that Bran is not ever going to walk again soon after.

Eyan lightly knocks on the open door of Bran's bedroom, and the youngest Stark boy sits up from his bed, holding himself up by leaning back on his elbows as Eyan enters the room and shuts Bran's door behind him. Eyan moves to the seat next to Bran's bed, and the boy lies back down on his back as Eyan sits.

"How are you feeling?" Eyan asks the young boy in the most gentle voice he can manage, fully aware of how the news of no longer being able to use his legs has affected Bran. "Do you remember anything?" After Bran had woken up, he hadn't been able to remember anything related to his fall since, no matter how hard he tried to.

"No." Bran turns his head on his pillow to face Eyan. "And how am I supposed to feel?" Bran turns his head away from his brother, facing the wall. "Am I supposed to feel okay, knowing I'll never use my legs again?"

"I suppose not." Eyan sighs and runs a hand through his dark curly hair. "I've seen you climb hundreds of times before." He leans forward, his elbows resting on his knees and his hands holding his head. "In all types of weather. Sun, moon, wind, rain, snow. I've seen it all, and you've never once fallen." He's more talking to himself at this point, trying to rationalize how it makes any sense Bran fell on a perfectly clear day, except for perhaps a few gray clouds in the sky that always remain in Winterfell's sky.

"But I did fall, Eyan." Bran turns his head back to his brother. "And not only did I fall, I'll never be able to climb again. Or walk, or stand, or use my legs as all." Eyan stays silent, unsure of how to respond to his little brother's agitated words. He closes his hands together and rests his chin on them silently."I'd rather be dead."

"Don't say that, Bran." Eyan sits up in the chair and gives his brother a stern, almost fatherly stare. "Don't ever say that."

"Why not?" Bran scoffs and looks up at the ceiling. "It's true. I would rather be dead than never be able to use my legs." He crosses his arms.

"Stop saying that-" Before Eyan can finish his argument, Bran has interrupted him.

"I'd rather be dead."

★☆★

IN THE YARD OF THE CASTLE OF WINTERFELL, Eyan Stark holds a practice sword in his hand, using it for its purpose of practicing to use a real one. Eyan had a natural gift when it came to swords, and blades in general, but his father always told him he could never be too good with any weapon, so he had never stopped practicing. Practicing was also one of the only things that could calm Eyan's mind, and after hearing his little brother say he wishes he were dead rather than not being able to use his legs, that was exactly what Eyan needed. A calm mind.

However, it didn't seem to be working. It only seemed to be bringing out more frustration and more of the feeling that it usually got rid of. Eyan was hardly paying attention to his surroundings due to these feelings; that's how he ended up with his dulled practice sword mere inches away from his brother, Robb's, throat.

"Hey, hey!" Robb puts his hands up in mock surrender, a small amused grin painted on his face as he takes a step back from his brother. "I surrender." He laughs as Eyan sighs and brings his sword down to his side.

"I could've hurt you." Eyan runs his free hand through his hair. Despite being dull, with the force Eyan was putting into his practice, he could've easily punctured through Robb's skin or worse.

"Something the matter?" Robb inquiries as Eyan puts the practice sword back.

"Why do you ask?" Eyan turns back to face Robb, acting oblivious as if he hadn't almost stabbed his brother in the neck.

"Oh, I don't know, maybe because you almost killed me." Robb crosses his arms over his chest, rolling his eyes as he speaks sarcastically. "You've seemed... tense since you saw Bran. What happened?" Robb's tone is now no longer sarcastic and far more concerned for the sanity of his brother, unsure of what could've happened for him to be so tense.

"Nothing." Eyan lies, walking to attempt to move past Robb in an attempt to finish this conversation early so he can go find something else to do that will hopefully blow off some steam. "Bran can't walk anymore. He can't climb, stand, or do anything with his legs. My little brother can't do anything himself, and the one thing he enjoyed doing most has been torn out of his life along with that."

"He's alive." Robb grabs Eyan's arm before he can walk away from him, pulling him back so they're face to face again. "That's what matters, Eyan. Bran can't use his legs, but he's alive."

"And he wishes he wasn't!" Eyan pulls his arms out of Robb's grasp and takes a step away from his younger brother.

"What?" Robb scoffs in disbelief, clearly not fully understanding nor believing what Eyan just told him about their little brother.

"When I spoke with Bran earlier." Eyan sighs and runs his hand through his hair stressfully for the third time within the hour. "He told me he wishes he were dead. His exact words were 'I'd rather be dead'. He would rather he died when he fell than not be able to use his legs again, Robb."