eachdraidh | first dream. video -> text.

[ the video is at first, accidental--simply because bran was repeating what the fairies had told him when the locket was placed in his hands. what eachdraidh is presented with is not the face of a boy, but the snout and eyes of a very large wolf, looking into the locket as if he could see straight through it. ]

That isn't--Summer, to me-- [ the video jostles for a moment, just long enough to show a blurry, shaky image, as if the locket was being carried by someone and left to dangle. the image is of a boy, maybe eight or nine years old, with curly brown hair and piercing blue eyes. he looks surprised to see his own face in the locket, and when he lunges forward, it's only with his hands, as if he couldn't move otherwise from where he seemed to be seated against a pillar.

(he couldn't.)

the feed cuts off for a moment, before it's replaced with the text function. if it wasn't for the dictation of the lockets, bran wouldn't be able to speak with this, surely, but he watches it move with fascination as he speaks into it. ]

I seek someone who could carry a boy great distances.
My companion might have wandered off
But he only speaks his name, and is very large.
else, I would ask for help, with only kindnesses to spare in return.
I am at the castle the fairy called Caer Glaem, and I would like to move to the room they have granted me.

Thank you

[ bran doesn't like asking for help. he's never liked it, but losing his legs forced the young wolf to learn to trust people, even when he didn't want to. all he could do was hope that meera or jojen or hodor had simply wandered off, and that once he was moved to somewhere safe, he could search the castle through summer's eyes, instead.

if reached before response, bran can be found sitting up against a pillar. summer is a fair distance away, but not so far--the moment someone approaches, the large wolf steps protectively in front of the boy, ears pinned back, nose ready to curl up in a snarl. ]

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

[ bran's heart warms at the mention of "allegiance"--the last house that bran had interaction with who swore fealty to the starks was house reed, and they have been nothing if not true and good.

though the text function cannot capture his happiness, it's there. ]

We shall.

Lord Eddard Stark is my father, and Sansa Stark is my elder sister.
It sounds like you've known her--and us--very well.

I favour your sister, she is a kind child.

[ Sansa reminds him of the quieter corners of Eryn Lasgalen, shadowed and subtle but now with birdsong drifting in and out of the glades once more. A timid melody, yet sweet relief all the same after so long with the forest swallowed in darkness. As to Bran, Thranduil considers. ]

When you are comfortable, you might request the fairies to bring you maps and books from the great library of Caer Glaem. Maps, to let you see how grand the Drabwurld is and all its territories, and books to read about the fantastical creatures here.
I spent my first week in Caer Glaem all but buried in the library. Your sister met with me there.
I believe you may find much of interest to read, if you are not opposed to it.

She is. [ he thinks of visions, of a bird trapped in a cage, and bran has to shake his head to clear it. his greensight was cruel and hard to understand, but that image was clear from the moment he touched a weirwood tree and saw it. ]

My brother says he's going to come to me through magic
And there is some in Westeros [ obviously, considering. maester luwin would want him to study; besides, he has little else to do but wait while jon and arya hurry to the castle. ]
But nothing like this.
I'll read everything I can.

[ there's a moment of silence before bran fiddles with the locket again, muttering at it--it shifts to video, showing his face. young, freckled cheeks, tully blue eyes, dark auburn curls. bran smiles just a little, a tiny thing, and ducks his head. ]

Thank you.

[ About to reply via text, he blinks at the video screen on the locket whipping into view and takes a moment to return the smile the little boy sends his way. Thranduil is pale as snow with eyes like coldfire under a crown of severe thorns and autumnal berries, his raiment shining Elven armour, yet it all warms with the welcome he chooses to grant the child. Valar know, raising his own son has left him weak to caring for little ones, whether immortal, deer or Man. ]

You are very welcome, Bran. [ An ordinarily sleek voice tumbles into something fonder and conversational. Bran is a dear sweet thing, opting to give his thanks face to face like this, and Thranduil is momentarily jealous of Lord Eddard's large brood. ] When I come back to the castle, we shall have to meet. Will you tell me all about your studies? You shall surely know more than I.

first dream. video -> text. | unlocked

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