Chapter 5

After finishing the day's lessons, Master Luwen announced that he could now move about freely. He was finally free from the coats of arms, clan languages, cultural customs, and historical origins of the great houses. The master often said that knowledge learned in youth leaves the deepest impression, but he truly grew weary of pure memorization.

Translate:

After finishing the day's lessons, Scholar Luwin announced that he could move freely. He finally escaped from the coats of arms, clan languages, cultural customs, and historical origins of the great families. The scholar always said that knowledge encountered in childhood leaves the deepest impression, but he really grew tired of these purely memorized things.

We need to keep same meaning, not add. Let's produce concise translation.

【1】 After the day's lessons ended, Scholar Luwin announced he could move freely. He finally escaped from the great families' coats of arms, clan languages, customs, and histories. The scholar always said knowledge learned young leaves the deepest impression, but he was truly sick of these purely memorized things.

Check we didn't add extra. Good.

Sitting on the bed, he saw sunlight streaming through the window, dust motes dancing in the beam. Following the angle of the light outward, he noticed it was somewhat dark; he raised a hand to shield his eyes, and through the gaps between his fingers a blue sky and low white clouds appeared. The sunlight was gentle, warming his skin. Such weather was perfect for climbing walls—clear skies meant that even scaling from the corner of the wall to the highest tower wouldn't make him sweat, and his feet could feel whether each stone still held the sun's warmth.

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Sitting on the bed, he saw sunlight streaming in through the window, dust floating in the light. Following the angle of the sunlight outward, he saw it was somewhat dark; he raised a hand to shield his eyes, and blue sky and low white clouds peeked through his fingers. The sunlight was warm and gentle, feeling cozy on his skin. Such weather was perfect for climbing walls—clear skies meant he could climb from the corner of the wall to the highest tower without sweating, his feet able to feel whether each stone brick retained the sun's warmth.

Check we didn't add.

Not now.

Translate: Not now.

After treatment and the foul-smelling bath, he could get out of bed and walk on his own, but his legs didn't obey him as before—they felt like two strangers' legs. Meera said he should now act like a newborn, relearning how to crawl to build coordination, but he felt it would be humiliating for someone his age to be crawling on the floor or bed, especially since even Rickon no longer crawls. He had tried, but the fluffy dog and Summer mimicked him, which only deepened his embarrassment.

Translate:

After treatment and the foul-smelling bath, he could get out of bed and walk on his own, but his legs weren't obedient like before—they felt like two strangers' legs. Mei Yi said he should now learn to crawl like a newborn, using crawling to train his body's coordination, but he felt it too shameful for his age to be crawling on the ground or bed, and even Rickon no longer crawled. In fact, he had tried, but the fluffy dog and Summer followed his example, copying him, which made him feel deeply embarrassed.

Rickon

fluffy dog

Summer

Thus line 4 translation:

After treatment and the foul-smelling bath, he could get out of bed and walk on his own, but his legs weren't obedient like before—they felt like two strangers' legs. Mei Yi said he should now learn to crawl like a newborn, using crawling to train his body's coordination, but he felt it too shameful for his age to be crawling on the ground or bed, and even Rickon no longer crawled. In fact, he had tried, but the fluffy dog and Summer followed his example, copying him, which made him feel deeply embarrassed.

Check we kept all info.

I asked, "When will I be able to walk again?" the master replied, "Children take three to four years from birth to learn to walk—really a long time!"

Translate: "When will I be able to walk again?" the scholar said children take three to four years from birth to learn to walk—really a long time!

I asked, "When will I be able to walk again?" the master replied, "Children take three to four years from birth to learn to walk—really a long time!"

【5】 I said, "When will I be able to walk again?" the scholar said children take three to four years from birth to learn to walk—really a long time!

In fact, he had been exercising constantly as Meera advised. From the moment he could stand, he refused anyone's help, preferring to spend countless times more effort than before. Meera told him that with enough practice he would surely recover fully, and her assistance would speed it up. Bran trusted her completely. She had said he would be back on his feet within three days, and indeed on the third day he managed to get up on his own.

Translate:

In fact, he had been exercising constantly as Mei Yi said. From the moment he could stand, he refused anyone's help, preferring to spend countless times longer than before. Mei Yi told him that with enough exercise he would surely recover fully, and her help would make it faster. Bran trusted her unconditionally. She had said he would be back on his feet in three days, and indeed he managed to get up on the third day.

Check we kept all.

Meera still had to tend to his muscles and bones every day, and he knew it took up too much of her time, yet this work could not be done by anyone else, and he wished to recover as soon as possible. Still, it pained him deeply—Meera was practically a lady of the house, yet she and her retinue of guards had to remain in Winterfell just to serve him, a small child.

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Mei Yi still had to massage his muscles and bones every day; he knew this took up too much of her time, but the task could not be done by anyone else, and he too wanted to recover as soon as possible. Yet this made him feel terrible—Mei Yi was practically a lord, yet she had to keep her retinue of guards and soldiers stationed in Winterfell just to serve him, a small child.

Winterfell

He struggled out of bed, and Miss Jasmine lightly stepped to his side, draping a cloak over him and fastening the ties. He expressed his gratitude without words. He walked forward step by step, thinking of the godswood where he prayed for his father, for his two sisters away from home, and for Jory, Fat Tom, the sister, and the other retainers who had gone south with his father. He knew his father, Eddard Stark, would never betray the realm, and that he and his kin in Winterfell shared the same view. Didn't everyone say Eddard and Robert Baratheon were as close as brothers? And Robb's name was still chosen in the king's honor!

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He struggled out of bed, and Miss Jasmine lightly walked to his side, draped a cloak over him, and fastened the ties. He expressed his gratitude silently. He walked step by step, thinking of the godswood praying for his father, for his two sisters away, for Jojen, Fat Tom, the sister, and the other attendants who went south with his father. He knew his father Eddard Stark would not betray the realm; Bran and his kin in Winterfell shared that view. Didn't everyone say Eddard Stark and King Robert Baratheon were as close as brothers? And Robb's name was still taken from the king's!

Miss Jasmine

Fat Tom

Sister

We kept.

Now the whole of Winterfell was growing tense, and he could feel it, though no one had ever mentioned it to him. He asked Master Luwen, who simply replied that nothing would happen.

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Now the whole of Winterfell was growing tense, he could feel it, but no one had ever mentioned it to him. He asked Scholar Luwin, who merely replied that nothing would happen.

Could it really be nothing? Robb had already been meeting with his mother, Theon, Rodrik, and Meera to discuss the war. He felt he could hear the constant squawking of the ravens lately, surely carrying messages to the various castles.

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Really nothing will happen? Robb had already been discussing war with his mother, Theon, Roderick, and Mei Yi. He felt he could almost hear the ravens constantly croaking lately, each carrying letters flying to the various castles.

Robb was going to summon his father's bannermen to march south and fight the lions. He felt terribly guilty, as a cripple he could do nothing.

Translate:

Robb was going to summon his father's bannermen to march south and fight the lions. He felt terribly guilty, being a cripple who could do nothing.

If I hadn't been injured, or if I had died outright from the fall, Meera could have gone with Father to King's Landing, and then, no matter what happened, they would have returned safely to the North. She is not only a legendary warrior but also a magical knight, with dozens of great ships moored in various ports; if she were at Father's side she could surely help, but because I am stuck in Winterfell she has also kept Father, my sister, Jory, and the others trapped in King's Landing.

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If I hadn't been injured, or if I had died outright from the fall, Mei Yi could have gone with Father to King's Landing, and then no matter what happened they would have returned safely to the North. She is not only a legendary warrior but also a magical knight, with dozens of great ships docked in various ports; if she were at Father's side she could surely help, but because I am stuck in Winterfell she has also trapped Father, my sister, and Jojen in King's Landing.

Thinking of this, Bran felt he was about to cry.

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Thinking of this, Bran felt like he was about to cry.

His direwolf Summer sensed his mood and licked the hand that rested on his cane.

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His direwolf Summer sensed his mood and licked the hand that held his crutch.

The cane was made for him by Master Luwen to match his height. When his mother learned he refused to crawl and insisted on practicing walking upright, she worried he would fall and asked Master Luwen to help craft it. The cane makes him look as old as Master Luwen, doesn't it?

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The crutch was made by Master Luwin to his height. When Mother learned he refused to crawl and insisted on practicing walking upright, fearing he would fall, she asked Scholar Luwin to help make it. Does the crutch make him look as old as Scholar Luwin?

The cane truly reduced his falls. If he learns to walk, will he still need the cane? Will they nickname him "Old Grandfather" Bran? That would be awful.

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The crutch indeed reduced his falls considerably. If he learns to walk, will he still need the crutch? Will they nickname him "Old Grandpa" Bran? That would be awful.

The road to the godswood was painful, and even more painful was that Hodor and Jasmine stood by, either waiting or watching as he moved forward step by step, making him look utterly like a cripple.

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The road to the godswood was painful, and even more painful was that Hodor and Jasmine stood by, either waiting or watching how he moved forward step by step, making him look utterly like a cripple.

"Hodor, carry me to the godswood!" he exclaimed, having given up; he just wanted to get to the godswood quickly to pray for his father.

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"Hodor, carry me to the godswood!" he said, giving up; he only wanted to get to the godswood quickly to pray for his father.

Ado chuckled, lifting him up as he had asked, but he felt his posture must look terribly awkward, and besides being uncomfortable, he had to put up with Ado's stench.

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Hedor hehe-hehe laughed, lifted him as requested, but he thought the pose must look extremely ugly, besides feeling uncomfortable, and he had to endure Hodor's stench.

Hodor chuckled hehe-hehe, lifted him as requested, but he thought the pose must look extremely ugly, besides feeling uncomfortable, and he had to endure Hodor's stench.

After entering the godswood, he found Meera already standing before the heart tree, her hand touching its eye. She looked so calm and sorrowful—Bran had never seen her like this, and she had barely noticed them arrive.

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After entering the godswood, he found Mei Yi already standing before the heart tree, her hand touching its eye. She looked so calm and sorrowful; Bran had never seen her like this, and she barely noticed them entering.

Hodor stopped on his own.

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Hodor stopped on his own.

Yes, I won't be the only one praying for Father; Mother, Robb, and Meera are doing the same.

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Yes, it's not just me praying for Father; Mother, Robb, and Mei Yi are doing the same.

"Put me down," he said to Hodor.

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"Put me down," he said to Hodor.

"Bran." Meera noticed him.

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"Bran." Mei Yi noticed him.

Bran didn't know how to describe this sister—she was only a few years older than him, yet she felt far older, to the point that he thought she seemed more like an aunt on his mother's or father's side.

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Bran didn't know how to describe this sister—she was actually only a few years older than him, yet she felt much older, to the point that he thought this sister before him might actually be an aunt on his mother's or father's side.

"Meera, I thought you were with Robb." As they discussed how to rescue his father, he stepped forward, wanting to draw nearer to the heart tree.

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"Mei Yi, I thought you were with Robb," discussing how to rescue Father, he stepped forward, wanting to draw nearer to the heart tree.

He felt the heart tree staring at him.

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He felt the heart tree staring at him.

"Yes, Bran. Your brother has resolved to summon Father's bannermen southward. My opinion differs greatly from theirs, so I've come here to keep the heart tree company."

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"Yes, Bran. Your brother has resolved to summon Father's bannermen south. Since my opinion differs greatly from theirs, I've come here to keep the heart tree company."

Bran glanced again at the heart tree, thinking Meera was teasing him. He had many questions he wanted to ask, but he wasn't sure whether these adults would be willing to explain things to a small child—and a cripple at that.

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Bran glanced again at the heart tree, thinking Mei Yi was joking with him. He had many questions he wanted answered, but he wasn't sure these adults would be willing to explain things to a small child who was also a cripple.

She smiled at him, lovely, and he didn't take it as mockery: "You can sense it too, can't you? The heart tree will answer you, but if you lack sensitivity it's just a tree."

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She smiled at him, lovely, and he didn't take it as mockery: "You can sense it too, can't you? The heart tree will answer you, but if you lack sensitivity it's just a tree."

Following her gaze, he lifted his eyes to the pale heart tree—its trunk wholly white, its leaves red as flame, trembling softly in the breeze and making a faint chime. He didn't understand her meaning.

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Following her gaze, he lifted his eyes to the pale heart tree—its trunk wholly white, its leaves red as flame, trembling softly in the breeze and making a faint wind‑chime sound. He didn't understand her meaning.

"What did it say? Can you understand it?"

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"What did it say? Can you understand it?"

"It says Father is locked in a deep dungeon—I can sense him but cannot see or rescue him. Its power in the south is weak, so it cannot aid me; it sighs. There is much more, but I cannot see or hear it."

Translate:

"It said Father is imprisoned in a deep underground place—I can sense him but cannot see or rescue him. Its power in the south is weak, so it cannot aid me; it sighs. There are many other things, but I cannot see or hear them."

Bran gazed at Meera, blushing slightly; under her stare he felt as naked and secretless as if he had no clothes on, and indeed she had seen him unclothed many times before. He saw her dark, sparkling eyes, like a deep well hiding far more than he could know.

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Bran gazed at Mei Yi, blushing; under her stare he felt as naked as if he had no clothes, with no secrets left—she had indeed seen him naked many times before. He saw her dark, shining eyes, like a deep well hiding far too much he could not know.

"What should we do then?" The heart trees of the south are fewer than those of the north, it's said, because the Andals cut them down.

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"What should we do?" The heart trees in the south are fewer than in the north; I've heard they were all cut down by the Andals.

"We are people, not gods; many things cannot be left to the gods to handle for us—we must rely on our own strength and wit to solve problems, defeat enemies, and reach our goals. In truth, all we can do is do what we ought to do and do it well. God helps those who help themselves, and abandons those who spurn themselves." Her eyes grew brighter—no witch would have such bright eyes.

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"We are humans, not gods; many things cannot be done for us by gods, so we must rely on our own strength and wisdom to solve problems, defeat enemies, and reach our goals. In fact, all we can do is do what we ought to do and do it well. God helps those who help themselves, and abandons those who abandon themselves." Her eyes grew brighter—no witch would have such bright eyes.

Few had spoken to him about the nature of the gods. "I heard the sister say that the gods punish those who disrespect them and reward those who serve them diligently."

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Few had ever spoken to him about the nature of gods. "I heard the sister say that gods punish those who disrespect them and reward those who serve them diligently."

"Bran, some people or beings may wield great power and thus falsely call themselves gods, demanding that humans revere them, serve them, love them, and act according to their will; if anyone refuses, they punish them. Such entities are in fact evil gods, false gods, even more depraved—mere tyrants, despots, madmen ruled by rage. Of course, most ordinary people who encounter gods are those who use the divine name to line their own pockets. A few among them may have no personal gain, being either fanatics incapable of self‑control or ignorant folk who know nothing of the world." She sighed, looking at the faces turned toward them, and said, "You know, the true gods feel no sorrow or joy, no love or hate; to them all of creation is but a bundle of straw. They are like the tree before us, like the distant mountain, like the eternal stars fixed in the sky—unchanging for anyone. Curse them, and they will not respond; love them, and they will not treat you any better."

Translate:

"Bran, some people or beings may wield great power and thus falsely call themselves gods, demanding that humans respect, serve, and love them, act according to their will, and punishing those who refuse. Such beings are actually evil gods, false gods, even more depraved—mere tyrants, despots, lunatics whose emotions run wild. Of course, most ordinary people in the world encounter those who invoke gods' names to secretly profit; a few may have no personal gain, being either fanatics unable to free themselves from their delusion, or ignorant folks who know nothing of worldly affairs." She sighed, looking at the faces turned toward them, and said, "Do you know? True gods feel no sorrow or joy, no love or hate; to them all things in heaven and earth are straw dogs. They are like the tree before you, the mountain in the distance, the stars forever fixed in the sky—unchanging for anyone. If you curse them, they do not answer; if you love them, they do not favor you in the slightest."

Bran didn't understand. "Why do the true gods feel no sorrow or joy? If they care for nothing

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Bran didn't understand. "Why do true gods feel no sorrow or joy? If gods don't care about anything, why should we worship or revere them?"

You know, Bran, think about why you came here—you must want something from it. She stared at the heart tree, "I once heard that in ancient times, the first men would tear out their enemies' entrails and hang them on the heart tree to appease the old gods and other deities, and perform all sorts of other cruel sacrifices, sparing no effort. But do you know how the gods answered them?"

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"You know, Bran, think about why you came here—you must be seeking something from it." She stared at the heart tree and said, "I once heard that in ancient times the ancients would pull out enemies' entrails and hang them on the heart tree to appease the old gods and other spirits, and perform all kinds of brutal sacrifices, giving their all. But do you know how the gods answered them?"

Bran felt his gut clench, "How did they respond?"

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Bran felt his intestines knotting. "How did they answer?"

You forgot what I just said. The true gods see everything in the world as straw dogs, so they won't give any response.

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"You forgot what I just said. True gods see everything in the world as straw dogs, so they give no response at all."

If the gods don't answer, why do they still… make sacrifices?

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"If the gods don't answer, why do they still… sacrifice?"

Some beings who hold power bind themselves to a particular form to sustain their existence, and once that form is activated they must act to show their presence. All right, you're still too young—I shouldn't be telling you this.

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"Some beings that have power bind themselves to a particular form to maintain existence; once the form opens, they must act to manifest their presence. All right, you're still too young—I shouldn't be telling you this."

I don't understand either. If the old gods don't respond, does that mean they are the true gods? If the old gods are also so indifferent, why would they tell you that your father is imprisoned in an underground dungeon?

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"I don't get it either. If the old gods don't answer, does that make them the true gods?" "If the old gods are also this indifferent, why would they tell you Father is imprisoned underground?"

The heart tree is like the clouds in the sky; if the clouds look dark and overcast, that cloud is telling us it might rain soon. The heart tree is also like the stars in the sky, always in the same position, and at sea we can determine our location by observing it, guiding our course—I'm sure Master Luwen has told you that. They don't change for us, but we can gain knowledge by observing and understanding them, which helps us fight any enemy. The heart tree and the gods are… just tools, no different from the clothes you wear, only their function differs.

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"The heart tree is like a cloud in the sky—if the clouds look dark and heavy, that cloud is telling us rain may come soon. The heart tree is also like a star in the heavens, forever fixed in its place; at sea we can observe it to know our position and guide our course—I'm sure Master Luwin told you that. They do not change for us, but we can observe and learn from them to gain knowledge that helps us fight any foe. The heart tree and the gods are… merely tools, no different from the clothes you wear, only their functions differ."

Then how can we know what the heart tree is telling us?

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"Then how can we know what the heart tree is telling us?"

You need to learn, Bran. Just as a sailor must learn to read the stars for navigation, just as a housewife must bring in her laundry and grain before the dark clouds arrive. By learning them, understanding them, and using them, we can face challenges with greater confidence and assurance.

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"We need to learn, Bran. Just as sailors must learn to read the stars for navigation, and housewives must gather in laundry and grain before dark clouds arrive. Study them, understand them, use them, and we will face challenges with greater confidence and certainty."

Yes, I need to learn, but no one is teaching me.

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"Yes, we need to learn, but no one is teaching me."

Bran, you also have dreams, right? I know, I can feel it, I think you can feel it too. Mei Yi lowered her head to look at him, Bran felt her eyes shine brighter, like stars in the night, sparkling, almost piercing his perception, "This is the power in the blood, explore it, master it, and you will naturally be able to communicate with the tree."

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"Bran, you also have dreams, don't you? I know—I can feel it, and I think you can feel it too." Mei Yi lowered her gaze to him; Bran saw her eyes shine brighter, like stars in the night, flashing and almost piercing his awareness. "This is the power in your blood—explore it, master it, and you will naturally be able to communicate with the tree."

Bran and Master Luwen have talked about dreams many times, but the scholar always dismisses it, remembering his tone and demeanor: "Bran, many dreams are just the fruit of children's willfulness and mischief during the day, they are false and meaningless."

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Bran and Master Luwin had spoken of dreams many times, but the scholar always dismissed it, remembering his tone and manner: "Bran, many dreams are just the fruit of children's daytime willfulness and mischief, meaningless fantasies."

That's the attitude toward children; Master Luwen merely remains patient, but deep down he still thinks Bran is a clueless child, and Bran knows that.

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That was his attitude toward children; Master Luwin merely stayed patient, still thinking him a child who knows nothing, and Bran knew it.

"I've had a dream." Bran whispered, as if he himself weren't sure.

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"I have dreamed," Bran whispered, as if he himself weren't sure.

"Did you turn into a wolf in your dream?" Mei Yi winked at him.

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"Did you dream of turning into a wolf?" Mei Yi winked at him.

"She knows, she knows everything."

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"She knows; she knows everything."

Bran fell silent, unsure whether to tell Mei Yi about his dream, thinking it better to avoid the topic: "Will you use this power to help Robb rescue his father?"

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Bran fell silent, unsure whether to tell Mei Yi about his dream; he thought it better to evade: "Will you use these powers to help Robb rescue Father?"

"I will use all my strength."

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"I will use all my strength."

"But you said your opinion differs from theirs, and from Robb's."

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"But you said your opinion differs from theirs, and from Robb's."

Our goals are the same, just some details differ! Robb wants to summon his bannermen and march south to fight the lions to the death, but I think they're too hasty. Hey, Bran, I don't know if Master Luwen has told you the current situation, but actually if Robb goes south, you would be the lord of Winterfell; you can't just be a child, you need to know more. Perhaps in a few years you'll have to take up your own iron sword and armor and fight a real war. She patted Bran's shoulder, continuing with words only adults are fit to hear, which lifted Bran's spirits and made him listen attentively.

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"Our goal is the same, only a few details differ! Robb wants to summon his bannermen to march south and settle things with the lions once and for all, but I think they're rushing. Hey, Bran, I don't know if Scholar Luwin has told you the current situation, but if Robb goes south you'll be lord of Winterfell—you can't remain a child; you need to know more. Perhaps in a few years you'll have to take up your own iron sword and armor and fight a real war." She patted Bran's shoulder, went on with the sort of talk only adults are fit to hear, and this lifted Bran's spirits; he listened attentively.

King Robert still has two younger brothers; many rumors, in fact, the eldest brother, Stannis, has already sent ravens to all the lords, claiming that the Prince now on the Iron Throne is not the late King Robert's offspring, but a bastard born of the adultery between Ser Jaime and Queen Cersei, and thus has no right to sit on the Iron Throne. Robert's even younger brother also holds the same view, but he has placed a crown on himself.

No one has ever told me these. "Even if Robert's children cannot become king, it wouldn't fall to a younger brother." Just like Winterfell also wouldn't fall to me.

So, the former king's son and his two brothers will definitely fight each other, swords crossed, neither yielding. You know the history of the Blood Dragon's Wild Dance, don't you, Bran?

Scholar Luwen had once taught him, and he remembered when he studied this history, his interest lay entirely in dragons; he could even know the names of all dragons, both the living and the dead.

After Viserys I, the dragonlord family of Targaryen split into black and green factions over the succession to the Iron Throne; they waged the Dragon War, and although peace later came, the Targaryen family has had no dragons since then.

That's right; strictly speaking, it was only a few years after the war ended that their dragons completely vanished. In this war, there were only two sides: Princess Rhaenyra and the son of Queen Alyssa, Aegon. By the war's later stage, the black and green factions could only barely join forces, and only through marriage did the conflict finally end. Although the Targaryens could still maintain rule at that time, they were also greatly weakened. But you know, the Baratheons who now rule the Seven Kingdoms originally had no dragons, and they are still split into three factions constantly fighting. With such severe accusations, compromise is impossible.

"Will they keep fighting?" Bran was pleased to have guessed Mei's meaning.

Until the other two sides are utterly exhausted. But any one of them who wants to keep this country whole needs the North, needs the Starks; if one of the two brothers wins, Father will almost certainly return home safe and sound; if the son wins the war, as long as the king is not mad, we bared our wolf fangs and Father will likewise return safely to the North.

The two words 'wolf fangs' made him laugh, but he wasn't that optimistic; however, if Robb did not go south, he would be very pleased.

"But now Robb wants to summon his bannermen to march south and fight."

"Exactly, the direwolf versus the lion; I don't know how much blood each side will spill before the other is utterly subdued. My opinion is that we should not join the war too early. We should just wait and see in the North."

Bran knew that in size, the direwolf is no smaller than the lion, but he strangely felt that their direwolf is not yet grown and cannot match the southern male lion; this thought made him fearful.

A lone wolf dies, the pack lives. Bran thought of his father's teaching. Robb is not yet fully grown, and his other brother has now gone north to the Wall; he himself is young and crippled, let alone Rickon, who is still a little child, and he sometimes still needs Summer to keep the little dog in check.

"Will you help Robb then?" Bran could hardly hear his own voice. He was afraid to hear a bad answer.

"Bran, I will certainly help him; he is also my brother, and I am also our father's child."

Bran smiled, but a sour feeling welled up in his heart. But you have no wolf.

Mei did not continue speaking here, but turned to the topic he was avoiding: "Being a shapeshifter is a talent, and also a temptation. What wolves can do does not mean a person can don their skin and act; beneath that skin, you must remember you are a person, uphold the morality and honor befitting a person, not indulge in pleasures not belonging to humanity; besides that, you may freely explore and learn—this is also the clouds in the sky, the stars of the night; you must go learn, verify, and train."

"But no one has taught me."

"Just like a child learning to walk and run, no one teaches you, yet you will naturally do so. And this training here is like climbing a wall—not everyone can climb a wall, and not everyone who climbs a wall can do it as well as you used to, and you were not born so skilled at climbing walls." She touched his face, he felt embarrassed, "Hehe, anyway the point is, as long as you train and explore, you will naturally grow."

He looked forward to growing, wanting to know what growth would look like. "Mei, what is your dream?"

"I no longer need dreams. I can become the hawk in the sky, become the cat on the ground. If this world had dragons, I would also very much like to try. But you must keep this secret for me; I have heard that the wildlings call people like me aberrants, which beyond the Wall might signify ability, but in the North could lead to discrimination."

"Hmm, I will keep it secret. Can I turn into a wolf at any time?"

"You can. But Bran, your task is heavy: you must learn what Master Luwen taught you, train your legs and feet, and develop the abilities just mentioned."

"I will strive; I will be able to walk soon."

He felt much better, so he stopped praying to the heart tree; after Mei left, he sat down with difficulty beside the weirwood, taking hold of its roots with his hands, wanting to know what distant story the rustling leaves were telling.

He did not clearly hear the tree's reply; all he heard was the rustling, like wind chimes swaying; he kept trying, but still only heard a faint whisper.

"Bran!" Bran was instantly startled awake.

Robb came; he opened his eyes, and what met his gaze was Grey Wind's huge wolf head. It really is huge.

He turned his head to look at Robb; Robb's expression was exhausted, as if the northern wind had overnight taken away his youth. He was no longer like a boy; thinking of this, Bran felt a wave of sorrow.

"Robb." Bran supported himself with his hands on the ground; Robb hurried over to help him, but he stubbornly pushed him away, and with difficulty yet obstinately stood up on his own, saying, "I can stand by myself!"

"Bran, seeing you stand again truly makes me happy. The day you woke up, the day you could get out of bed and walk, I had Master Luwen send ravens separately to King's Landing and the Wall; they should already have heard your good news. How much longer do you think you need to fully recover? Qiongen's reply said he would come back to see you!" Robb and he have the same hair, but his is shorter and also more curled.

He is much stronger and sturdier than I. "I don't know. I've been training all along." He wasn't sure whether he should ask about the war, but he said anyway, "I know we've already sent ravens to Father's bannermen. Are we really going to war?" Robb heading south, he is the lord of Winterfell, but aside from what Mei told him, he knows nothing. Can one be lord knowing nothing?

"Yes. I am preparing to lead the army south to the Neck to block any troops that might come to invade the North. If necessary, I will continue south, forcing the Iron Throne to yield, so they will return Father." Robb's voice was firm, as if he were already leading a great army south.

"Mei says we should wait in the North, wait for the Baratheons to fight among themselves, wait until they decide a victor; then, no matter who sits on the Iron Throne, as long as the North remains Stark, they can only release Father."

"Bran. We are Starks, we are Stark men; they will certainly release Father, but we Starks will never sit idly by while our kin suffer humiliation far away, unmoved; we will not wait for the enemy's mercy, we will always strive for ourselves. Moreover, we are direwolves, we possess the North; if we do not show our fangs and claws, they will look down on us, and our bannermen will also look down on us. I can only choose this way—do you understand?" Bran had never seen Robb so solemn; at this moment he was no longer a brother, but a king.

"Will you take Mei with you south?"

"No, she will stay with you in Winterfell. And you will be lord of Winterfell; she will assist you in managing all affairs of the domain."

"She should go south with you." "Then what about Mother? Does she not help me manage the domain?"

Robb gave a wry smile. "No, Mother must go south with me; she will go to the Eyrie to ask for the Vale's aid, she is the most suitable person. Moreover, Grandfather is gravely ill, and she also very much wants to return to Riverrun to visit him; how could we refuse such a request?"

"She should stay." "What about Rickon then? He's still so young." He almost shouted.

"Mei and you will take care of him."

"Looking after children is Mother's job, not hers. She should go south with you; you know her ability. Even together you couldn't beat her!" He shouted.

"Bran, don't be childish; this is war, personal strength isn't needed. Besides, marching south doesn't require sailing—it's all muddy roads; she is a lady, no need to force her to do these things."

She can become a hawk, become a cat; she is not only capable of sailing. Bran somewhat regretted promising to keep Mei's secret. "I don't need Mei to look after me! Mei is not Rickon's mother!"

"Bran, it was she who got you back on your feet; with her by your side you will recover sooner. Mother also thinks it's better for her to stay and look after you. Aren't you wanting to get up soon?"

"Yes, I want to!" But he knew he shouldn't answer that way. Bran felt that his recent shouting had given him a headache, and he didn't know how to respond; moreover, his stomach began to cramp, leaning on his cane, he started to retch.

"Bran, are you all right?" Robb had already hurried to help him.

"With Mei looking after me, what could happen to me?" The sudden vomiting made Bran feel both embarrassed and angry; he shoved Robb's hand away. "Summer, let's go!"

He stepped down carefully. One step, then another. Summer merely watched him, glanced at Grey Wind, and moved half a step in sync with his pace. He felt even more embarrassed. Eventually he let Ado carry him out of this awkward spot. But as soon as he stepped out of the godswood, a wave of regret washed over him; all he wanted was to clearly tell Robb that Mei being by his side was worth more than being with a cripple. But now? He absolutely did not want to return and continue to be embarrassed.

He resented his own slowness, kicked out hard; the force was so great that his boot slipped and flew, striking Ado in the face.

"Ado!" Ado shouted.

"Bran!"

"Mother." Bran replied softly, the sound already too faint for him to hear himself.

Today is really annoying, he thought, his face flushing. Mother stood on the walkway above the corridor, able to look down and see everything around. Bran watched her stand dignified on the balcony; he knew she had been staring at him for a long time just now, and that scene would surely not escape her eyes.

"Bran." Catelyn came down the corridor from the walkway, and at that moment Ado also set him down.

"Mother. Are you going south with Robb?" He hoped his face wouldn't be so red.

"Bran, this is also what I want to tell you. Robb is summoning his bannermen to prepare to march south, and I will set out earlier than he. I must go to the Eyrie to seek aid for him. No one is more suited than I for this, Bran; after we leave, you will be the acting lord of Winterfell, you are still the brother, and you must look after Rickon well."

"Yes, everything is arranged; I'll just follow your orders." "I know." Bran did not realize how cold his voice sounded, but Mother smiled.

"Bran, I promise you, you are my most beloved son; Robb and I do not want to leave Winterfell, to leave you and Rickon; you know how reluctant I am, especially for you." Bran felt his mother's hand moving through his hair.

"Mother! I don't need your reluctance; I have... I have practically grown up; the one who needs you is Rickon, he's only four; when you're around he's already this hard to manage; if you both leave, he'll lose control, not to mention the little dog—that direwolf has already bitten many people! My Summer can't control it; Rickon needs you by his side, not me, not me, a crippled brother!" After saying the words 'cripple,' he felt as if he were about to cry.

"No, Bran, you are no longer a cripple; you can now walk normally, albeit a little slower, but Mei has assured me that you can return to normal, and even, with hard training, you could still become a great knight—isn't that what you've always dreamed of?" Seeing him cry, she squatted down and held him in her arms; he smelled the incense of the small chapel.

I know, I believe, but you and Robb shouldn't leave Winterfell. Bran felt unable to stop crying, on one hand anguished over how to keep his mother and brother there, on the other hand anguished over how to stop his sobbing.

Bran, don't be so childish, you just said you'd grown up! If I and Robb stayed in Winterfell, who would go south? Catelyn stroked his chestnut hair; Bran knew this was a mother's gentle mask, beneath which lay the unchanging face of Lady Stark.

Meera! Meera Stark, my sister, you all know her ability; she shouldn't stay in Winterfell, only to heal me—I've already recovered. He felt somewhat relieved, "She should lead the northern army to rescue Father!" Bran resented being treated like a child, and also resented that he really was just a child.

Bran, don't be willful. Having her by your side guarantees your recovery—that's her ability, but that ability doesn't mean she can lead troops in battle, and moreover she's a woman, and moreover a bastard, although she can now bear the Stark name, the northern lords… you know their tempers, they won't obey her. I know you'll say she's self-crowned queen of love and beauty, but tourney jousting and marching to war are completely different. We would never entrust the lives of tens of thousands to her command. He knew his mother distrusted Meera, and felt only he could sense that.

Robb can order them to obey Meera! He has that authority. He is the lord of Winterfell and heir of House Stark.

Bran, my Bran. Even if Robb can command them to obey, the northern army marching south must rendezvous with the forces of the Riverlands and the Eyrie; they might, out of respect for your father Eddard Stark and the Tully name, follow Robb's orders, but they would absolutely never obey Meera. Bran, you know what happens when an army lacks a unified command! Catelyn's voice also grew urgent.

She is still a knight, knighted by King Robert before thousands. Bran only wished his mother would hear his words. Let Meera go south, let Robb and Mother stay.

Bran, many knights and tourney champions have died on the battlefield; knighthood gives her no advantage. Bran felt angry, sensing his mother had gained the upper hand in this debate, and beneath her gentle tone lay the victor's satisfaction, making him angrier.

Robb isn't even a knight, and just months ago he was still practicing with a wooden sword. He should stay in Winterfell, not go south to fight.

Bran, Robb is the Warden of the North and heir of Winterfell; he must not hide behind his bannermen, nor let himself stay safe in Winterfell while sending his vassals to die in his stead. If he did that, your father's vassals would look down on him, scorn him, and eventually abandon him—and that is unacceptable. She paused, stroked his hair, "Although his swordsmanship isn't as good as Meera's, he has long studied warfare at your father's side, which gives him an edge over her; on the battlefield, no one will care whose sword is better. As an army commander, to personally brandish a sword in battle would be foolish."

Then let Meera go south with Robb. He needn't heal me—I can walk on my own now, and he'd be more useful beside Robb than beside me. Bran felt utterly disillusioned; adults often think themselves tolerant, open-minded, and clever, but Bran felt they were stubborn, hidebound, and unwilling to hear true counsel.

Bran, Rodrik will escort me to the Eyrie. After Robb leaves, you as acting lord of Winterfell, though aided by Master Luwen, who knows nothing of war, once the army marches south the only one who can bear the defense duty is her. And her staying in Winterfell also entails other heavy responsibilities, far more than just tending to you. See, we have already placed her in a position of great importance. Catelyn showed a victorious, satisfied smile, and Bran resented that.

She thought I merely liked Meera and wanted her given importance. Bran felt his heart sink with disappointment, shattering into fragments until he felt nothing, so he had Aduo carry him back to the study.

Summer also pricked up his ears, like a defeated puppy.