For Lost Time

Chapter 1: The Unlikely Miracle

I watch wearily as the black brother of the Night's Watch hefts Prince Stark up into his arms and begins ascending the stairway up through Castle Black. Jon Snow isn't the Lord Commander here anymore, or so says the black brother we spoke to. Apparently we're to be taken to speak to someone called Edd, the new de facto Lord Commander.

I feel every joint in my body scream in protest as I climb slowly up the stairs following behind my Prince and the man carrying him. It took three days to put together a new sled and drag Bran to the Wall, and my whole body is reminding me of it each step I take. Looking around I see the sombre faces of the men of the Night's Watch as they go about their work.

I look ahead as the man with whom I reluctantly unburdened myself of Bran and watch as he passes greetings to his black brothers on the stairs. The man carrying Bran steps past one of his brothers on the uneven rickety stairs, but neither pays attention and they collide.

Time feels immovably slow as I watch Bran's helper twist awkwardly on the spot as he stumbles backwards. The helper slumps sluggishly against the handrail and I watch in horror as Bran is dropped over the side of the stairs.

"BRAN!" I cry out as I lunge uselessly forwards to catch Bran's outstretched hands as he fails to grab a hold of anything. Once more time feels halted as I look into Bran's soft eyes mid-fall. No. This can't be happening. We didn't survive north of the Wall, we didn't survive the White Walkers and the Wights for this happen. Fear grips my heart as I practically throw myself over the handrail long after Bran is beyond my reach.

Please no. Not Bran too. I watch on helplessly as Bran falls his last dozen feet and collides with the ground with an anticlimactic thump. Bran's eyes roll up into his head as his body lays splayed out on a patch of pristine snow.

I move quickly down the stairs taking them two or three at a time as I hear the black brothers shouting and calling out in panic. My mind is numb as I round the bottom of the stairs and sprint to where Bran fell. I slide to my knees at his side and I wrap my arms around him protectively. I cradle his head to my chest as I feel my heart race.

"Bran? BRAN?" I call out to him as he remains lifeless in my arms. Panic grips me as I shake him slightly and run my gloved hand over his cheek. "Bran please... please" I whisper as I pull him close. I can't do this. He has to be okay, he has to be alive. Somewhere behind me I hear people crowding around but I pay them no mind as I focus on my Prince.

"M'ra. Meera" mumbles Bran quietly as I feel a jolt of relief run up my spine.

"Bran? Bran I'm here. Say something?" I beg without shame as he shifts in my arms.

"Cold" he mumbles softly as his eyes slowly open. His normally soft brown eyes are glassed over as he stares up at me. Despite the situation I let out a warm chuff of air.

"It's the North Bran, it's always cold" I say quietly as I smile down at him. Bran gives a soft nod before closing his eyes once more.

"Bran?" I ask uncertainly as worry grips me once more. Suddenly I feel a hand on my shoulder.

"Lady Reed?" asks a black brother uncertainly. I just nod silently as I run my gloved hand over Bran's chest and feel his still beating heart. "Lady Reed... we had better get you and the young lord inside" says the black brother uncomfortably. Once again I nod silently as words are exchanged behind me and two young men in black cloaks come to carry Bran. "Lady Reed... you're going to have to let go o' him" rasps the man behind me.

Slowly I unwind my arms from around Bran and shuffle back as the two younger men carefully pick him up and begin carrying him with care. I hear words exchanged once more but my eyes are glued to Bran's unconscious face.

I glance around quickly as I follow the two men carrying Bran and notice that a small crowd of men has gathered. They all watch in silence as the two young men carry Bran slowly up the stairs with me in tow. Slowly we make our way up the stairs like a funerary procession, the very thought sending terror coursing through me.

He spoke to me. He made me laugh. He'll be fine. I know he will. My mind goes in circles trying to convince myself that Bran Stark will be okay. We crest over the top of the stair and I glance sideways at the spot where Bran was dropped. An older black brother brushes past me and moves to open up the door for the two men carrying Bran.

"Through here lads" rasps the man to the two younger men. I follow behind the men as they carry Bran into a small room, and the older man opens up another door and guides the men through once more. "Put 'im down here boys" says the older man. The two younger men move and carefully deposit Bran in a large bed that dominates the room. I glance around the room and it looks like the quarters of someone of rank. "Alright lads, you've already done your worst. Now bugger off" snarks the older man.

The two younger men grumble quietly and trudge out of the room as I quickly move around the bed and slide up next to Bran. I pull my fur glove off with my teeth and quickly run my hand over Bran's chest to feel his heartbeat. Once more relief washes over me as I feel the soft stead beat of Bran's heart thrumming under my fingers. At the foot of the bed the older man clears his throat uncomfortably.

"Ah... er Lady Reed?" he asks uncertainly. I glance up at him and nod. "You told the two brothers you met that this is Bran Stark?" he asks.

"Yes" I answer simply.

"As in Jon Snows brother?" he deadpans in surprise.

"He needs a maester" I say, ignoring his question.

"Well er... thing is. We're a little short on masters up here at the moment" says the man. No Jon Snow, no maesters, what in seven hells has happened to the Night's Watch.

"Where is Jon Snow?" I ask irritated as I look closely at Bran.

"It's sort of a long story, but Jon Snow's in Winterfell" he says. "I'm Eddison Tollet, everyone calls me Edd" he says uncomfortably. He must be the Lord Commander that those black brothers spoke of earlier. I nod silently as I run my bare hand up Bran's neck and softly trace my fingers up his jaw and over his cheek. "I'll uh have some food brought up and someone to build a fire" he says.

"Send a raven to Winterfell, tell them Bran Stark is alive at Castle Black" I say unconcerned with my demanding tone. I hear the Lord Commander make his excuses and leave the room. I hear the door close behind me and I refocus my attention on Bran.

This should never have happened, I should have carried him up the stairs myself if I had to. Slowly I begin to notice the aches and pains I was feeling as we arrived at Castle Black. I edge the blanket out from under Bran and cover him with it as I ease myself into the bed next to him. The thought of decorum occurs to me for a moment, but I ignore it. Bran and I have spent more time beyond the Wall curled up for warmth than I can count, this hardly matters anymore.

I lie back in the bed and slowly let the tension ease off of me as I watch Bran as he breaths in deep lungfuls of air. Time passes and men in black cloaks come into the room and build a fire in the hearth. Eventually the Lord Commander returns with a large plate of food. It looks especially horrid, but after being north of the Wall for so long, large hunks of bread and steaming unknown meat is practically a delicacy.

I listen as Edd explains what has happened while Bran and I were north of the Wall. It seems Jon Snow is now King in the North. As he tells me about what has befell the Starks in our absence I feel my heart sink. What Bran said about his family was right. I had hoped he was having horrid dreams or pessimistic thoughts. Eventually Edd leaves me a key and tells me the that we can stay here in the Lord Commander's quarters until Bran is fit to travel, or until Jon sends word.

I try not to think about the idea of 'if' Bran will be fit to travel as Edd leaves the room and I stand quickly to lock and bar the main door. Even if the Night's Watch is loyal to Jon Snow, I don't trust a single one of them enough to risk Bran harm. I go back to the bedroom and close the door to keep the heat from the hearth in.

Despite my aching joints I stumble over to the bed and reach under the blankets and ease off Bran's makeshift boots. One by one I drop them to the floor and I cover up his feet once more. I sit on the bed and begin removing my own boots. Slowly I ease myself under the blanket and curl my body once more around Bran. I eye the food hungrily sitting on the table next to me, but that's Bran's share.

I snuggle closer to Bran and watch his soft face. I trace my eyes over his jaw and cheek bones, over his brow and nose before finally landing where his usually soft warm eyes stare back at me. He'll be fine, I say to myself once again. A thought strikes me and I ease myself forward and brush my lips softly against his cheek.

"Bran?" I ask quietly into the silent room. "Please be okay" I whisper into his ear. "I need you". I let my hand drift over his beating heart once more to reassure myself before closing my eyes. Slowly through exhaustion a dreamless sleep takes me as my cheek rests over Bran's slim shoulder.

...

...

...

"Meera?" comes a hushed whisper. "Meera?" Slowly I crack an eye and look around the darkened room. Most of the candles have burned down, and the one remaining is casting shadows on the walls as it flickers. "Meera, wake up"

"Hmm?" I hum in confusion as I lift my head and look at Bran. I feel a sharp relief pass through me as I see his focused eyes staring back at me with concern.

"Are you alright?" he asks. I nod dumbly as I stare into his eyes. "Meera... where are we?"

"Castle Black" I say quietly as if the fewer words I say the less chance of breaking this spell.

"I fell... again" he states, almost uncertainly.

"Yeah" I say thickly. I watch as he nods in acceptance, before resting his head back against the pillows and letting out a quiet sigh. As if trying not to startle him I lower my head back down over his shoulder and ease back into a comfortable position.

"Meera?" whispers Bran.

"Yeah?" I ask hesitantly, hoping he doesn't send me away.

"My feet are cold" he says. My heart skips a beat.

"What!?" I yelp.

AN: This story will have no main ASoIF/GoT plot, and will focus on Bran/Meera. Assume all that plot is happening elsewhere. Also... suspend your disbelief a little. Just pretend your disbelief is a trapeze act.

Disclaimer: I'm not GRRM or HBO, I have the tax returns to prove it.