A/N: Just cross posting things I have on AO3 already. Meant to do it for some time already, but life got in the way.

Anyway, there are elements from the TV series in this fic (such as the ages), but I tried to keep faithful to the books.

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Bran looks down at Rickon clinging to his useless leg as they walk through the half-burned Winterfell. They have never been the closest of brothers because of the age difference but Rickon has already lost most of his pack. He doesn't remember what father, Sansa and Arya and Jon look like and has started to forget Robb and mother too. Bran is all he has left, Bran realizes. It isn't the same to Bran who can remember his parents and other siblings relatively clearly, he is able to tell (mostly) who can be trusted. The Reeds for sure, as well as the Umbers and Mormonts and Tallharts and Glovers and Manderlys most likely. He makes a decision and has Hodor kneel so that he can hug his baby brother. Shaggy and Summer come over and lick their faces.

"We have to get to either Bear Island or Greywater Watch," he says, looking up. "Both are easy to defend against large invading armies and both the Reeds and Mormonts have always been loyal to the Starks since the Neck and Bear Island have been joined to the North. Personally I think it would be easier to reach Bear Island since between them and us is only the Wolfswood and the sea but there is also Deepwood Motte and the Glovers too are a loyal house. Hopefully we can send Robb word from there."

Bran knows he's made the right decision when a smile breaks onto Rickon's face before he hides it in Bran's neck, arms tightening around his neck.

Jojen seems ready to protest so Bran adds, "Wolfswood is also full of game and it must be easier to take a boat North from Bear Island than to try to cross the Wall." He looks at Osha. "I am sorry Osha. I know you wanted to go as far south as south goes. If you wish, I will free you from your oath and you can leave."

Osha shakes her head. "I promised your Lord brother to never let you come to harm if I could stop it. Letting you go North while you don't know what's there is letting both you and the littlest lordling come to harm and no one of the Free Folk is known for breaking their oaths. I'm not going to be the first."

Bran turns to look at Meera and Jojen, wanting to know what they think of the new plan. Meera smiles brightly and Jojen agrees sullenly. "We'll follow you, my Prince," the girl says and suddenly Bran realizes she's Robb's age even if she seems much younger because of her bright personality.

Bran has Hodor stand, leaving Rickon on the ground and clinging to his leg once again and looks around the ruins of Winterfell. "We must salvage what we can. Furs, weapons, food, in that order. Hodor, Rickon and I will see what's left of the Great Keep, see if we can find some furs for us. Osha, you check the armory, see if there's anything of use left. Meera, Jojen, you take the kitchen. If any of you find other survivors, bring them with you. We will regroup in the Godswood in an hour. Meera, Jojen, if you have the time, check the stables for horses," he commanded, sending the three to their tasks. "Hodor, carry Rickon and me to the Great Keep," he tells the stable boy who obediently picks Rickon up and starts on the way to the crumbling Keep that had been Bran and Rickon's home not two weeks past.

At first they check the household quarters that are in shambles. The beddings are ripped, mattresses ruined and pillows stewed all around. They find some blankets that are usable deep in a closet and the Stark marriage cloaks (the groom's cloak, the maiden cloak and the bride's cloak) in another. They also find some of their old clothes not yet given to the small folk and Bran thinks they are in a good enough condition to be still of use. Of course, Robb's old clothes are much too large for Bran and Bran's old clothes are much too large for Rickon but with the winter here, they will make for wonderful outer clothes so that they won't get frost bite. This will be especially important for Bran because he wouldn't feel it in his legs if they were to blacken. The servant's quarters are mostly untouched and there they find winter furs instead of summer furs, packed away deep in chests and closets.

Then Bran remembers something his father had told him a few years ago when he'd asked about Skagos and how they paid their taxes. Father took him deep under the Great keep, below the servants' quarters, below the store rooms, below the hot spring the Great keep was built upon. There was a room there, filled to the brim with jewels and long, white horns. "The Skagosi don't have gold or silver, Bran," father told him, "but they have more jewels than they know what to do with so they pay with what on the other hand is valuable to them. It's the one unicorn horn every ten years that is valuable to them. They don't care for the colorful rocks they send each year but everyone mourns the one unicorn horn they send every ten years. This room alone is worth more than the whole of Westerlands and this is what Skagos pays in a hundred years. And Skagos has been part of the North for thousands of years. We have nearly five hundred whole horns here in Winterfell Bran so while the Lannisters go on and on about being the richest Great House there is, we know it's not true." "But, if we are the richest house, why do we not tell everyone?" Bran had asked. "Because it is always good to be underestimated by your enemy, Bran, remember that."

They would need the money, Bran knows. Robb needs the money. He wonders if father had ever told Robb about the rooms below the hot spring or if it was knowledge from second son to second son. So after they had multiple furs for everyone in their ragtag group he orders Hodor to go below the Great Keep. They left the furs and blankets at the top of the stairs and so below they went, Bran is holding the torch, Rickon and Shaggy sprinting ahead and Summer keeps the end. Once at the jewel rooms Bran orders Hodor to pack some of the jewels into the sack he'd taken with them. Rickon wanders deeper into the room and soon comes back with a unicorn horn, banging it gleefully to the ground. To Bran's surprise it doesn't break.

"Rickon, let me see that," he tells his brother, holding his hand out expectantly.

"No! Mine!" announces Rickon stubbornly.

"You can have it back as soon as I've seen it," Bran promises which seems to calm Rickon as he agrees and gives the horn to Bran. Bran inspects it, tries to see if it bends, breaks or splinters and comes to the conclusion it is much like metal than wood or bone. It is heavier than wood but lighter than metal. From that one horn there would be enough material for two broadswords or one broadsword, one normal long sword and a plethora of daggers. He hands it back to Rickon. "Were there more of these where you found this one?"

Rickon nods eagerly. "There were more, one for each finger," he says and holds out both of his hands, displaying all ten fingers. Bran smiles.

"Can you get me another one?" he asks. With two horns he should be able to make one broadsword, two long swords and more than enough daggers to give to those loyal to the Starks. Meera, Jojen and Osha would be the first to get the daggers, the broadsword would serve as the replacement of Ice until they get it back from the Lannisters and the two long swords are for Robb and for when Rickon is big enough to wield a sword of his own. Bran smiles, already knowing the name for the broadsword. Blizzards are such dangerous things, fatal even, if one doesn't know how to survive. This Blizzard would be unsurvivable.

Rickon comes back with the other unicorn horn and Bran tells him he'll be the one keeping them safe until they can get to some place with a decent smith. Rickon beams proudly up at Bran.

They head back up and Bran has Hodor lock all the iron doors and takes the keys with him so that should Theon or the Bolton's return, they wouldn't get the treasures even if they came this far. No one would have any reason to come this far unless they knew about the jewels and unicorn horns but better safe than sorry, that's what Maester Luwin always says.

They get to the Godswood and everyone else is already there, gathered around the Heart tree. Rickon drops the horns and runs up to them as they part, revealing Maester Luwin with a blood stained grab. "Get me close, Hodor," Bran orders and is obeyed as always. Bran doesn't know what to feel. Maester Luwin had always been there and rarely if ever hurt. "Tell us what medicine to get from your chambers."

"We'll make you better," Rickon agrees.

"I feel just fine," Maester Luwin says gently and Bran can hear the lie in it.

"They've burned it," says Bran, looking at Maester Luwin. "So much of it is gone."

"But not everything. Not you," Maester Luwin reminds him. "But they may come back. You have to go," he looks Bran in the eyes.

"I know, we're already planning on going to Bear Island. The Mormonts have always been one of our strongest, most faithful allies," Bran tells him. "And they can keep us safe until Robb comes back."

Maester Luwin smiles. "I was going to suggest the Wall and Jon but you have thought this through," he says proudly. "I count myself lucky to have seen you, both of you, every day since you were born. But you better go, get ready. The journey will be long."

"I don't want to leave you!" Bran protests.

"And I don't want to leave you," Maester Luwin answers. "But I will be here when you come back. Maybe I can even scare Theon Turncloak or Bastard Bolton should they return."

Bran gives a weak chuckle, knowing Maester Luwin is referring to the ghost stories Old Nan used to tell of haunted castles. "Are there any ravens left that might take a letter to Robb?"

"I can send it still if you're quick about it," Maester Luwin says and whistles. A flock of ravens flew up from all around Winterfell and lands around them in the Godswood.

Bran tells Hodor to run to the Great keep, to the servant's quarters. He remembers seeing parchment and ink in one of the rooms and writes a quick message for Robb once there. He remembers to date the letter.

2. 10. 299 Turncloak betrayed by Boltons. Rickon and I alive, hid in crypts. Winterfell burned by Boltons. Maester Luwin with terminal wound. Will go to Deepwood Motte and Bear Island. If not there, at Wall or Greywater Watch. Osha and Hodor alive. Meera and Jojen Reed too. – Brandon Stark, Prince in the North

When he is finished, he has Hodor run back to the godswood where Maester Luwin is. Osha is trying to make him as comfortable as possible, helping him drink some water, and Rickon is chatting and petting Shaggydog and Meera and Jojen are going through what everyone had found. Bran hands the letter to Maester Luwin who in turn gives it to the darkest raven in the whole flock. Bran sees it fly off towards south and hopes it would reach Robb.

Then Maester Luwin tells them they really have to leave if they want to make any progress that day. He keeps Osha back and Bran, Hodor, Rickon, Meera and Jojen head to the yard of North Gate, where the Glass Gardens are. The green and yellow glass panels are shattered and Bran thinks it a horrible waste, they were expensive. Some of the trees still stand and bear fruit but Bran knows they will die in the Winter without the glass to protect them from the cold. He has the others gather the fruit they can reach and he and Hodor go to see if all the horses are dead. Meera had said they hadn't had the time to see. Bran knows he and Rickon could both ride Dancer if she is still alive but Meera, Jojen, Osha and Hodor would all need their own horses. And they would also need a pack horse or a small buggy. Best would be Dancer and six other horses but Bran would be happy just for a pair of horses and a buggy. Meera knew how to drive a buggy, she'd told him once, and Hodor could lead Bran's horse. Rickon could sit in the buggy and Jojen and Osha could walk.

At the stable doors Bran can hear weak neighing and has Hodor take them inside. Some of the horses are in a bad shape, it would be kinder to kill them quickly than leave them to die of hunger or be killed by wolves but others are perfectly fine. Dancer is among those that are fine, as is Theon's warhorse, a thing big enough to let Hodor ride. All in all, there are eighteen horses alive of the sixty that there had been before Theon's attack, eight of them healthy enough to be taken with them. Bran has Dancer, Theon's warhorse and three others saddled and fitted with saddlebags. The other three Bran has Hodor fit with as many saddle bags as he manages to fit. Then he has Hodor lead two of the pack horses to the others and has Osha come with them for the other six.

"Osha, it'll be kinder to kill the horses we leave behind rather than let them starve or freeze to death or have wolves come in and eat them alive. If they're dead, the wolves can't hurt them anymore," Bran says mournfully atop Dancer, the last pack horse tied to his saddle.

"Aye, but it'll also tell the returning squids and flayed men that someone survived," answers Osha as she reluctantly unsheathes her dagger and nicks the nearest ill horse's neck where blood sprouts, flying right by her. Slowly, the bucking and neighing horse loses its last strength and collapses on the ground, still bleeding heavily.

Bran wants to laugh but he can't, not with so much death and destruction around and orders Dancer to move forward. He stops at the door and takes out his knife and carves a message to the stable door. Thanks for the horses – Lord of Winterfell, Prince in the North will have the Boltons scratching their heads and running around. He grins and urges Dancer forward. He knows Osha will have Hodor come with the other two horses and herself take the last two as soon as she is done, giving mercy to the other nine like Bran suspects she gave Maester Luwin.

In an hour when everything is packed well and good onto the horses, water skins filled to the brim, Rickon sitting in front of Bran on Dancer, the pack horse still tied to his saddle and he rides out of the North Gate and onto the open fields that are between Winterfell and Wolfswood, making a lazy turn to North West. When Osha sees the unicorn horns she stares but doesn't ask about them.