Brandon Stark

Brandon 'Bran' Stark is the fourth child and second son of Lord Eddard 'Ned' Stark and Lady Catelyn Tully. He is a warg and greenseer who inherited the role of 'Three-Eyed Raven' from the decased Ser Brynden Rivers. He functioned as a prophetic seer during the Second Long Night, using his visions of the past and future to influence strategies against the White Walkers. His whereabouts following the Second Long Night are unknown.

Characterisation
Bran begins the final leg of his story as a confused and scared boy, traumatised by the deaths of his travelling companions and mentor, the Three-Eyed Raven. In the final moments under the Giant Weirwood, he has realised that he is not simply a witness to the past, present and future, but capable of manipulating events to suit his own ends. Using weirwoods to fuel his presaging of the future, he learns that the future will not simply occur; he is bound to make it happen through his own actions, chiefly by manipulation and persuasion of others. The certainty that he can use his greensight to defeat the army of the dead and its leader, the Night's King, motivates an elaborate plan that both fulfils and subvert events as they are 'meant' to happen in order that peace can be achieved. He maintains his youthful idealism, wonder and sensitivity, but pursuses dark arts to ensure that the losses he has experienced are meaningful.

Season Seven
North of the Wall, with a ferocious and dark winter coming in. Ravens screech and cry and burst through the treeline. We see brief snippets of them darting clear, and a few of them dodge black spears hurled upwards. They come together at a weirwood tree and cluster on its top branches. Their screeching comes to an abrupt halt. They're silhouetted against the dying light of the day, a blistering orange.

We see their POV as figures approach the weirwood tree. A dozen of them, too small to be men or white walkers. We finally get a proper look at the Children of the Forest as they congregate before the weirwood and each place their hand to it. The ravens' eyes go white, and then as one they fly again, and in every direction. The Children hold their hands to the tree.

Behind them, men appear. Some ride horses without saddles, and their clothes and weapons are primitive. They approach slowly with weapons raised. We see the massacre as black against the horizon, by the tree. The leader of the men looks at the tree and sees patterns carved into the white bark. One is a spiral. Another resembles the Greek phi (φ). The man reaches out to touch them.

Bran snaps out of his vision and returns to the present, and takes his hand off the Weirwood tree. He and Meera are still camped out just beyond the Wall. He is extremely agitated. He repeats over and over again “they're still alive, they're still alive, they're still alive.” Meera calms him.

Later they huddle by a fire at an abandoned keep under the wall and talk about his visions. He tells her he saw Meera’s father fight with his all those years ago in Dorne, and what his father found in the tower. Jon is now King in the North – but his real name is Aegon II Targaryen. “It’s fitting,” he tells her. “A secret that only our fathers knew passes to us.”

When Meera asks what he saw that day, he is shaken. He wonders aloud whether it is wise to go beyond the Wall. He looks at his marked hand as he does.

“You won’t be able to help anyone if they kill you beyond the wall," she says. "We have to get behind the Wall."

He does not look convinced. He mumbles “I think that's how it all starts.”

They hear howling outside and Meera goes to a hole in the wall and looks out into the night. The howls rise and swell from a thousand throats. Then there's something else like a crunching of bones echoing. Bran shivers.

North of the Wall. The weather has gotten worse. Though it's day, the sky is almost night in its darkness and the snows are whipped up into a blizzard by the harsh winds. Meera struggles desperately to pull a dead deer through the snow and back to the sanctuary she's picked. It's a ruined dwelling, decidedly smaller and less secure than the keep they'd previously inhabited. There is a screech from above and Bran sees a huge bird flying overhead, an eagle perhaps.

She gets inside to Bran and half-collapses. The blizzard has made her face bleed and she is deathly pale. Bran is stricken by cold and something else, half-bowed over by pain. Meera tells Bran they have to get to the wall.

Again, Bran is oblique. “I wonder if we should have left that cave,” he says.

Meera explodes at this and states that she's given up everything for Bran, and lost her brother and Hodor, even Summer. If they're to stay north of the wall, it means death. So she needs to know why she has to die. Bran looks at her and cries and says he's scared, that he knows a sequence of events will begin. He saw himself at Castle Black and then “heard the screams” that follow. He then expresses his remorse at Hodor's death. He now knows that he's right to be afraid, because of what he did, because he now knows what it means. Meera is stunned to hear that he can see the future.

“There is no future,” Bran says, “and that's why I'm so afraid.”

Meera holds him and swears she'll protect her from whatever comes next. Bran smiles and shakes his head. She notes that if it's the future he sees, it has to happen, or it wouldn't be the future. He puffs himself up to travel.

They make it a short distance, but edge very close to the wall. Meera contemplates trying to build a signal to attract the Night's Watch, but is fearful that it will simply alert the dead to their presence. She asks what he sees them doing in the future, jokingly. Bran explains that he cannot see the full picture of what is to come; he can only see pieces, like torn scraps of paper from a letter. "I need a lot more pieces before I can read it."

Meera suggests that they ask her father, Howland Reed, who she says has a "magical gift" for solving such puzzles. They could go there, to Greywater Watch, as soon as they make it to the other side of the Wall. She suspects that they would have much to learn from him. Bran agrees, but asks that they go to the last weirwood before the Wall before then, near the entrance to Castle Black.

“Then home?” Meera asks.

“Yes,” Bran says. “Home.”

North of the Wall, Meera is dragging Bran to the weirwood tree. It's been a slow and agonising trek through the dreadful conditions. At one stage they stop and hide and witness a group of wildlings making a break for the wall. They're chased by a dark shape that takes form. A giant spider the size of a hippopotamus. The wildlings fight back but are easily killed. Bran and Meera continue and reach the tree. Meera begs for them to turn round and head for Castle Black, but Bran insists that there's one more thing he has to see. As she covers him, he puts him palm to the tree.

He sees a series of images. A frozen river below a flaming wooden bridge. An army of men crucified in a desert. A dark and shadowy figure on the battlements of a ruined castle. Then blood running through grass and forming a stream. Cries and the clatter of metal can be heard nearby.

Finally, Bran stands outside of a ice henge, a cluster of ravens above him and screeching. He walks into the henge and to a black altar at its centre. In the frozen marble is the spiral, and below it the φ. White Walkers appear from the white mist and surround him. He turns and sees the Night King approach with a baby in his arms. Bran frowns. He hears another noise above the ravens and looks up. It's a low boom. An object flies overhead like an enormous spear. Flames spit out of its bottom. It flies beyond them and out of sight. The White Walkers don't react. Bran moves towards the altar where the baby has been set down and looks at the child. He reaches.

Bran wakes from his vision. Meera is crying out his name and trying to fend off the giant ice spider. It lunges at her and she thrusts back with a spear in one hand and a torch in the other. She sobs and tells him to get away.

He blinks and then again and then begins to crawl through the snow. Ahead he sees more lights, more torches in the blizzard. He crawls towards it as Meera fights the spider. The lights grow closer and then become the shape of men on horseback. Dark cloaks hanging. Knight's Watch.

Bran turns back and sees Meera struck down and impaled by the spider's leg. She vomits blood and expires in the snow. One of the Brothers reaches Bran and hoists him up Bran onto his horse and they gallop away, back towards the Wall. Bran blinks up at the giant fortification as the Rangers reach the gate and it rises for them.

They move through the tunnel and into darkness. Bran scowls and gasps and clutching his arm. He looks at it. The mark burns an icy blue. He screams at the pain. (7.1, Behind the Wall)

The Wall. At Castle Black, Bran is brought into the warmth of the inner chambers. He is sat down in front of Dolorous Edd and his more senior men. One of the Brothers explains that Bran cannot walk. When Edd asks Bran who he is, he replies by showing him a Stark clasp and identifies himself as Brandon Stark, Lord of Winterfell.

The Brothers quickly realise that this is the truth, from the clothes Bran wears to the very fact that he cannot walk. Bran says that the army of the dead have reached them, that there is no more place for the living north of the Wall. He then says he needs to speak to Jon Snow. He does not refer to Jon as his brother.

Edd offers to send a raven ahead of Bran, who Edd can have escorted south. He's already received a message from Samwell Tarly than he needs to pass on to the “new King in the North.” However, he's sent for aid again and again, and nobody has responded. “People seem so distrustful now,” he remarks.

Bran assures him that they will come in time. Edd asks him what exactly he has seen north of the wall. Bran asks Edd what he has seen there.

“Well, you know, just the usual. Dead men riding horses, white demons with blue eyes. Treachery and murder and suffering. S'pose that's why nobody's coming, sounds about as good as war anywhere else.”

Bran chuckles at this for a little too long, until Edd frowns. “You're more right than you know, Lord Commander. You didn't understand why my brother left you this position, and you still don't. But you're wiser than most Knights and Lords, and even Kings. You'll be remembered that way.”

Edd blinks, then he laughs. “How could you know?”

Bran's smile fades. “The dead will be here soon, very soon. You need my brother. He will bring the help you need. His watch hasn't ended, even if his life did.”

Edd is perplexed, and his men stare. There's something in the air almost.

“Bran,” Edd says, “how do you know all this?”

Bran smiles politely, covering a more fearful expression, and eventually looks down.

Castle Black. Bran is in one of the halls, sat before a hearth covered in furs and shivering even still. Two stewards are tending to him; the meek and nervy Arron, and the swarthy and smug Connell Hill. Arron examines Bran's legs and sees that frostbite and possibly necrosis has set in. He says that Bran needs a maester of a healer, neither of which the Watch has anymore. Connel remarks that they don't have a tavern or a brothel either, which will disappoint a boy of Bran's age.

Connel apologises for his Brother, noting that “he says he's a Lannister; who'd call themselves a Lannister these days?”

“Anyone with the sense to think about tomorrow,” Connell replies. He asks Bran what he saw beyond the Wall. When Bran doesn't reply, Connel says he was at the Fist of the First Men. He's seen the dead coming, and that they took the knight he was squire to, Ser Mallador. Nothing Bran can tell him will be shocking.

Bran looks at Connel and asks if he wants to know if his father will ever return to Westeros. Connel is shaken by this remark, and so Bran assures him that Gereon Lannister's disappearance had nothing to do with his illegitimate sons.

Connel is so startled by this he cannot reply. Outside, the horn blasts three times. Bran says Edd needs him, and so he should be taken to the top of the Wall.

On the Wall, the Night's Watch take up defensive positions. A number of crude and improvised weapons like cauldrons and onagers have been fashioned, along with archer positions. Edd appears with his chiefs. Arron and Connel carry Bran with them. The large bird flies by once again, above the haunted forest. Bran looks down. The army of the dead appear from the treeline and slowly form a line one deep. It gets longer and longer until eventually it's out of sight in either direction. Everything stops. The winds howl. Edd looks at the endless line of dead men and shakes.

Bran lightly touches his shoulder and tells him; “the first thing you need to do is send for help. Send for Jon Snow.”

Edd nods sharply and calls for ravens. Bran looks down at a sole mounted figure behind the waiting rank of the dead. Stewards run along the top of the battlements carrying parchments. As they move, we see the terrified faces and postures of the Brothers looking at their enemy. We overhear some of their demoralised remarks. Edd turns to one of his men and tells them to also send word to Eastwatch-by-the-Sea and the Shadow Tower. He wants to know how far it goes. The enemy stand motionless.

“What are they waiting for?” Edd asks.

“Winter,” Bran says.

“Isn't it fucking cold enough?” one of the rangers asks.

“No,” Arron says.

He's looking beyond the dead and off to the horizon. The forests and mountains are now invisible behind a coming dark snowstorm, black and grey and swirling. The stewards get to the rookery and attach their many parchments to the ravens, which are cast off in turn. (7.2, Dragonstone)

The Wall. Bran sits in chambers in front of the fire. Edd is there too, his head in his hands. He hasn't slept and the weight of the world brings his shoulders down. He talks about not knowing what to do, then remarks at the absurdity of his confiding in a young boy. He discusses Jon, suggesting that perhaps he sees something of him in Bran.

“Same father, I suppose,” Edd says.

Bran looks about to correct this only to hold his tongue. Edd tells him about Jon as a fighter, a spy and a leader. He's not the smartest, not the best, not even the most inspirational. “But he kept doing the thing you should do instead of the thing everyone else does, and he kept getting back up every time someone knocked him down for it. Even when they killed him for it, he got right back up.”

They talk about this. Bran knows about Jon's resurrection, and seems to know why it happened.

“I was scared when he came back,” Edd says, “but I'll tell ye what, Bran. I was more scared when he left. It's odd how reassuring it is having a dead man on your side. Now they're all over there.”

Bran notes that Edd misses Jon, and reassures him that Jon will return. In the meantime, he needs to become the leader he's destined to be so that the men of the Night's Watch can feel just as safe. Edd asks Bran for help.

“You know things, you've seen things. These lot are a miserable bunch, but they're looking at you like you're one of the seven.”

Bran says there's little he can do, but he'll do what he can. He wargs, and Edd stumbles away before coming back and examining Bran's supine form.

He's with the ravens now, over the wall and past the line of the dead. Beyond the Haunted Forest and the ridges the dead are waiting, an army beyond counting. The huge bird is seen again, more closely than before. It is a great eagle, with a wing span of two metres at least. Bran swoops. We see atop a crag a man on horseback watching. He gets closer. It's Benjen.

The Wall. The army of the dead still stand in their long line, and the Night's Watch still stare down at them mesmerised. One of the Brothers faints at his post, exhausted. The rest have shadows under their bloodshot eyes, and their shoulders are hunched and postures haggard.

Down at Castle Black, Edd is in the hall with his chiefs. Bran is there too. Edd reads two scrolls and tells his men that the line of the dead extends as far as Eastwatch and the Shadow Tower. They stretch for three hundred kilometres, side by side. Hundreds of thousands at the very least, and that is not the extent of their army. The silence is heavy.

“Why would they they just wait?” a ranger asks. “Why would dead men think to wait?”

“They're puppets,” Bran replies. “The men you see out there aren't men, they're bodies. Some of them died centuries ago. But the creatures that control them want for something. They have plans and goals. They serve their own purpose.”

Most of the men listen intently. A couple of the others scoff.

“What do these ice demons want then?” one asks.

“They'll try to tell us,” Bran murmurs.

A Brother bursts in to report that the dead are moving. The Night's Watch chiefs pile into the elevator, and once again Bran is brought along for the ride by Arron and Connel. At the top of the Wall, they come to their vantage point and look down. The line is still there. But behind them, thousands of dead soldiers have approached from the treeline and are assembling into an unusual formation. It takes some time to come together. Then it is formed, like the phi.

The Brothers are baffled. Ravens croak and scream above. The dead move again, shifting effortlessly. This time they form the spiral. Bran stares at it.

“What is this?” Edd asks.

“They're telling us what they want,” Bran says.

“What? What do they want?”

“I don't know,” he says weakly. It is not a convincing answer.

Below, the spiral fluctuates as the dead move, and so it spins and rolls inwards into itself. Bran's eyes widen. The ravens grow deafening. (7.3, The Marches)

The Wall. Deadlock still. The dead keep their line. Not a single one of them has moved, and the snowfall has even begun to bury them where they stand. The communicators continue to shuffle back and forth between the phi and the spiral as if on a loop. Bran sits at the top of the Wall and looks down on them, chin resting on his folded arms. Arron and Connel are with him, watching too. Other Brothers are present but are clearly more lax than before.

“Maybe this is how the world ends,” Connel says, “everybody just gets bored to death.”

Arron suggests that the wait is meant to demoralise them all. He goes to Bran and asks him what the shapes in the snow mean. Donnel says they mean nothing. He saw them at the Fist of the First Men and beyond.

“That King who controls them, your puppet master, he just wants us to know what he can do.”

Bran nods but isn't convinced. A runner arrives to summon Bran, on Edd's orders. Arron and Connel pick him up. They go down to Edd's command. Edd and his officers are there, and Edd holds a message in his hand.

“A raven came,” he says.

“From the Citadel,” Bran blurts out. The officers guffaw and gasp. One of the officers present, the man-at-arms Endrew Tarth, wonders aloud who has been feeding Bran information.

Edd nods. He then asks if Bran knows what the message is about, and Bran thinks hard. He blinks, then replies.

“It's asking you to send them proof. Proof that nobody can dispute.”

“What kind of proof, Bran?” Edd asks.

“A living corpse.”

The men are stunned, and even Endrew can do nothing but shake his head. Edd confirms that the Citadel want the Watch to capture one of the wights and send it to them. It seems an impossible task, but they need to at least try, given the benefits of the Maesters believing the White Walker threat. Sam must be working his magic, he suggests.

Endrew suggests that the wight could be sent by disarmed, trapped in a chest and taken to Oldtown by sea, to Eastwatch and down to Yronwood, where the Dornish remain sympathetic to the Night's Watch. The ride from their to Oldtown is the shortest. Edd agrees, but notes that they still need to figure out how to catch the wight. He dismisses the officers but has Bran stay. Then he tells Bran that he needs all the men he can get, so can longer afford to let Bran keep Arron and Connel. Bran asks if a small horse can ride the lift. Edd chuckles and says that he doesn't see why not. He asks if Bran has any idea what they're meant to do. Bran shakes his head, and Edd asks why Bran knows some things but not things that could help them.

Bran explains that while he can see some of what will occur, he isn't sure about other things. “Jon told me about wine. What it does to you the morning after. Well, it sounds like that. You have blind spots and strong spots, where you remember things more strongly than you normally would.”

Edd is amused by this explanation, but points out that the crucial point – how he has any memories at all – is the thing Edd doesn't understand. Bran asks if there's any way under the Wall that he doesn't know about. Edd says not, and asks why. Bran explains that there's a memory he doesn't understand. Edd asks for more details, but Bran admits it's too hazy.

“Crows with their backs turned,” he says. “Under the shadow of the castle, good men dead in the snow. Where's the nearest weirwood tree?”

“Haunted Forest,” Edd replies. “You aren't leaving the Wall that way, Bran. There might be one on this side, I've no idea where. At any rate, you won't be getting carried by my men.”

Bran smiles and asks if he can speak with a smith. Edd leads him away. (7.4, Castle Black)

Back at the Wall, Bran sits in the blacksmith's while the smith constructs something. The smith, one-armed Donal Noye, gives him glances as he works and takes a break from the project to ask the question everybody has on their mind. “Is it true you see the future?”

Bran smiles slightly before saying “there is no future, only the here and now.”

Noye laughs and continues to work. A horn is blown. There is only one blast. Noye looks up at Bran with wide eyes. “Did you know that was going to happen?”

Bran frowns and says quietly “No.”

Outside, the gate under the Wall open. Edd rushes down the stairs to the courtyard. Brothers come forward with weapons readied. Bran enters the yard carried by Noye and they stand and watch. A figure on horseback slowly clops into the yard and comes to a halt. A crow in black cloak and tall on his large palfrey. The Brothers look stunned. Edd comes forward. Bran frowns. It's Benjen, his face passive. A long silence follows.

“Does nobody remember how to help a Brother from his horse?” Benjen asks.

Several Brothers laugh, including Noye. Edd helps him down and claps his back but stares at his pale and scarred face.

“I've seen better days,” Benjen says.

In the dining hall, Edd and a group of his chiefs sit and stare at Benjen, who sits and eats a broth slowly and carefully. Bran is with them, though apart as usual.

“We just took you for dead,” Edd says, “All of us did. How many years has it been? I didn't think you'd have the patience to stick it out.”

Noye jokes that there aren't as many whores North of the Wall as there once were, and Benjen smiles. He barely speaks, and isn't drawn on what happens to him. “You don't want to see where I've been.”

Edd remarks that he's come in a strange time. Men rise from the dead and the corpses that don't march against them. Fire priests do magic. He tells Benjen about his nephew Jon, about his resurrection and his new kingship. Benjen chuckles.

“He's a good lad, and means well.”

Edd asks if Benjen died, and Benjen doesn't reply.

“You could have forgotten your vows then,” Edd says.

“I can never forget my vows,” Benjen says. He shows the glimmer of emotion, a wet eyed and shaky conviction. “I came back to die with my brothers, to end my watch the right way.”

He's asked how he got back for the dead, and Benjen admits that they just let him. He doesn't understand why. A Brother confirms this. He saw the chain of dead break for him. Some of the Brothers, particularly the younger ones, view Benjen suspiciously.

Bran is confused. He says that Benjen saved him from the White Walkers previously, and can be trusted. Benjen looks at him and smiles.

“Listen to him, Brothers,” he says. “My nephew is special. You might think Jon was a god, and maybe he is. But Bran is an even greater man though he's a boy still. And so kind.” He asks if he can be allowed to rest, so Edd agrees to give him a bed.

At Castle Black, Night's Watchmen gather at the tunnel entrance. Edd is there to brief them. He tells the dozen men that they just need to stick to the plan, and to only attempt what they know they can achieve. “Close that gate the moment those beasts come your way.” He praises their bravery, assures them they can win, and promises them hero status if they succeed. They move down the tunnel. Bran watches them go from a window, then wargs into a raven.

The twelve brothers proceed to the outer gate and, once ready, open it. The raven that Bran is warging into swoops down to watch them. Half of the brothers move out past the wall towards the line of the dead, slowly at first but then hurrying. The weather is horrific and blizzard winds frequently mask the dead. The brothers proceed even as a whiteout hits them. One of them stops, looking about him, unsure where to go. A wight appears behind him and jumps on him, tearing into his throat with its teeth and stabbing him in the back with an old broken sword.

Another of the brothers lunges forward and cuts the wight down, decapitating it and scattering its bones. Another wight moves in, and the brother holds it off and seems to gain the upper hand, until another wight surges in, then another. The brother is overwhelmed and brought down into the snow. A rope swings into view and catches one of the wights, and drags it away. The brothers pulling it in move forward disarm the wight, though it swipes at one of them and lacerates his arm. They manage to tie it up, however, securing its arms and legs, and then drag it back towards the gate.

The brothers waiting for them there take guard positions, swords ready. They shout their brethren on. Bran continues to observe, and sees a large dark shape moving through the snow. The raven squawks and cries. The shape takes form as an undead mammoth and rams into the brothers dragging the wight. One of them is speared on its tusk, and another is trampled under its thick feet. The wight is knocked clear and writhes in the snow. One of the remaining brothers turns to face the mammoth, and the other tries to grab the rope. More wights emerge from the blizzard and swamp both of them. They then charge towards the gate, and the brothers there move inside and close the gate just before the wave reaches them.

Castle Black. Bran sits in chambers staring into the fire. His eyes water and his face contorts. Frustration, fear, pain. We see snippets of dead crows in the snow and blood on the steaming on the wall and the shadow of Castle Black. Brothers with their backs turned at the top. A flaming sword falling.

He makes to stand and falls to the floor. He pulls himself around and sniffs and shouts for a guard. Nobody comes. He grabs a log from beside the fire and throws it at the door. He shouts again. Nothing still. Bran pulls himself back into his chair and wipes his face. He looks out the window and sees nothing but white. Another quick snippet. Bodies butchered in the snow.

There's a knock at the door and it swings open. It's Arron, who asks if everything is alright. Bran says he needs a lift.

They go to Benjen's chambers. Benjen sits on his bed with his hands together, looking into the fireplace. He doesn't move as the door opens and Arron and Connel let him in. He doesn't look round as he greets his nephew. Arron and Donnel leave Bran on a chair.

They talk about how Benjen was able to get past the wall, how he hadn't tried before, and how he made it back to Castle Black unmolested. Benjen stares into space still. He tells Bran that he hadn't even been born when Benjen took the Black. Robert's Rebellion had only just ended, and House Stark comprised Eddard, Robb and the bastard Jon. Bran tells him that Jon isn't a bastard, that he's Aegon Targaryen.

Benjen knows. “He has ice and fire in his veins, where we only have ice. It's all we know. It's all we'll ever know, and it's why we die like flies and fight all the same.”

Bran asks why he joined the Night's Watch. Benjen says that all the Starks can see, even just a little. Some resist it, some don't. Brandon and Eddard did. Bran and Jon do not. Brandon saw himself in black and that's why he took it.

Bran asks why he is the way he is, how he can see what others can't. Benjen's eyes fill with tears.

“Somebody has to. Somebody always has to. You answered the call, Bran. You can't stop now, any more than I can. You can't stop.”

“I don't know how,” Bran says tearfully, “I can't walk, I don't know where the trees are, I can't see enough to know what to do.”

“Then do what Bran Stark does until you do.”

Bran nods and dries his eyes. He asks Benjen to tell him about father and Brandon. Benjen smiles warmly and looks at his nephew.

Castle Black. Bran sleeps in his chambers. We see his dream.

He glides through a Forest, skirting between the trees. He is not a raven, he is something with legs that runs. The trees are black and the leaves red. The ground is wet and muddy. Then they're into another plantation, the trees a familiar white wood. The sky above is black and red still. Smoke chokes it. Bran gallops to one of the weirwood trees and looks into its crying face. Blood runs from its eyes. A paw reaches forward and touches the bark. A flash.

Bran is the canopy of the weirwood forest. Flames rage around, every other tree of the grand forest burning. Grey snow falls around them. Two blood moons hang in the air. Bran turns. Meera clings to the branches of the tree, terror in her face. A dark, flying shape appears on the horizon and shrieks like Drogon. There are human screams and the clashing of metal.

Bran awakens. The sounds of battle do not fade away. It is morning. Bran looks about him and listens to the cries and the distant and muffled crashing of steel on steel. He shouts for Arron, and then for Connel, and finally for the Lord Commander. Bran crawls out of his chambers and along a stone corridor. A cold wind has picked up and whistles down at him. The cries and screams have ceased, but there is a commotion still. Bran crawls around a corner to the walkway overlooking the yard. Here, Connel sits looking down. His face is ashen and he shakes. Bran asks what is wrong, and grabs him. Connel doesn't react.

There are shouts in the distance. Bran clambers past Connel and looks down into the yard. It is filled with body parts. Torsos, arms, legs, heads. Some are familiar. One of them belongs to Arron. They form a large spiral that reaches from wall to wall. In amongst them stands Benjen. Bloodied black cloaks are piled nearby. He turns to see his nephew, and still clutches a bloody sword. Tears stream down his face.

“Do you see now, Bran?” he asks. “Do you understand? It's what we owe. It's what we both owe. It'll happen again, it has to. There is no future.”

Bran begins to cry. Brothers appear armed and readied and retch and gasp at the sight before them. Edd gets there and pulls out his sword.

“Night gathers,” Benjen says. “And now my watch begins. It shall not end until my death. I shall take no wife, hold no lands, father no children. I shall wear no crowns and win no glory. I shall live and die at my post. I am the sword in the darkness. I am the watcher on the walls. I am the fire that burns against the cold, the light that brings the dawn, the horn that wakes the sleepers, the shield that guards the realms of men.”

The men of the Night's Watch rush down the steps into the yard and attack Benjen. They stab him and slash him with their swords and he just stands and weeps. The wounds have no effect. The Brothers stop and step away from Benjen. Bone exposed, flesh scoured from bone. He stands all the same.

“Flames!” Edd shouts, “bring flames!”

The rangers do and approach with oil. They toss it on Benjen. He closes his eyes.

“I pledge my life and honor to the Night’s Watch,” he says, “for this night and all the nights to come.”

Edd takes a flaming torch and approaches Benjen. He shakes his head and sticks out his jaw, then tosses the fire. Benjen is immolated. He stands for a while, then collapses into the snow and burns there in the middle of his bloody mural.

Above, the men on the Wall look out beyond. We see their terror. Below them, the full army of the dead is filing out of the forests and up the hills. The line of the dead becomes a sea without an edge. (7.5, The Rose Road)

The day after Benjen's atrocity. The Brothers of the Night's Watch trudge about their duties, heads down and faces heavy. Bran sees them, and sees Connell taking a moment to himself when nobody is looking, hiding in a corner and weeping.

A memorial is held by the command, with few of the Brothers free to attend. The body parts have been rearranged and the bodies arrayed. They are burned on a pyre, and Edd speaks gravely of their loss, and of the sacrifice of the men who died trying to capture the wight. “We all knew we'd die here,” he says. “Every last one of us, either as an old man or a young man. We weren't all meant to die winning, but some of us will. We'll see to it that some of us do.”

The men are not assuaged, and Bran is pained as he watches from his window.

Later that night, Bran is still at the window, shivering at the cold. The blizzard conditions are beginning to reach the top of the wall, and snow and sleet falls directly down on Castle Black. Bran hears hushed but urgent voices, and sees four Brothers stealing horses from the stable. There are only two, so they share them. They ride down to the gate and there is a loud argument, then cries of alarm, then a scream. Bran cannot see. He wilts away from the window with his head in his hands.

The following morning, Bran is carried by Connell to a meeting in the Great Hall. Connell is clearly still struggling, though he tries to keep a brave face. He admits that his upbringing and his illegitimate bloodline prepared him for a thankless struggle, but not a hopeless one.

Bran reassures him. “I've seen you leading the charges,” he says. “Not here, but south, somewhere in long grasses and surrounded by luscious trees. You were the hero. I don't suppose I'm seeing your past.”

“You're not,” Connell confirms. “You said my father– Lord Gereon, you said Lord Gereon didn't leave because of his sons. Do you know him? Do you know Lord Gereon?”

“He was a kind man,” Bran says. “He was a good man too, strong but decent and loving. He loved his children, he even loved your cousin, Tyrion. He was perhaps the only Lannister who did. But he didn't love Westeros.”

“I hardly blame him,” Connell says.

They reach the Great Hall, where Edd has called his meeting. The familiar faces are there, Noye, Endrew etc. Edd talks about their situation. Morale is the worst it's ever been. Between Benjen's betrayal and the failed wight grab, they've lost 26 men. There were desertions the previous day, the previous night, and that morning. These losses brings their number down to 73, across all three of their garrisons. The army they face is beyond counting, and will grow further with every battle. It is, in short, not the funniest joke Edd's ever heard.

“All hope isn't lost,” Bran says. The Brothers scoff at this. “Help is coming. The dead cannot cross this wall, they would have done if they could. There is still time and there are men coming. Volunteers, conscripts, prisoners. But armies too, more than one. Jon will return here, and a King will lead his cavalry against the dead, beyond the wall. Through the snow and beyond the wall.”

Edd and Noye look slightly consoled, but Endrew laughs bitterly and long. He looks at Bran with dark eyes and a sneer.

“I'd love to believe you, my lord,” he says. “But you might want to prove yourself first. You wouldn't want these poor bastards choking on false hope, would ye?”

Bran has a brief flash of memories, the great eagle soaring, two men of the Night's Watch carrying a chained chest towards the High Tower in Oldtown, and Bran himself scrambling through an ancient and ruined building in a snowstorm. He blinks and composes himself.

“No,” he says. “I'll prove I can see these things, but you need to prove what's here to the Citadel. Perhaps I can help you.”

“We're that far gone yet, boy,” Endrew says.

Bran insists, and is shot down again by Endrew, though Edd looks a little less dismissive. He asks Bran if he knows what happens, and Bran shrugs before answering.

“I just know that you succeed,” he says.

“Flattery will get you nowhere, Bran,” Edd says. “Let us handle this. You find something we can use elsewhere, something in that mind of yours.”

The Night's Watch carry a new contraption to the top of the Wall. It is a harpoon, a siege weapon very much like the anti-dragon ballistas seen in King's Landing. However, there is only one bolt loaded into it, and a heavy chain is hooked to the back of the projectile. It requires ten men to carry, including Edd, Endrew and Connell. Noye follows, unable to help with one arm.

They reach a forward position on the wall and, on Donal's instructions, fix the harpoon on the very edge, fastened with ropes and snow hooks. It is hard work, and the men curse. Finally they line it up, and Endrew asks Noye to oblige them. Noye looks down at the army of the dead, barely visible now between gusts of icy wind. He barks out instructions and the Brothers adjust the harpoon. Noye orders checks, and Connell calls them out.

“It's a bloody blizzard, Donal,” Edd mutters.

Noye insists that he has run checks, this will work. There's a pause. The wind rattles the harpoon, then it quietens and stops shaking. Noye yanks a rope with his good arm. The harpoon bolt is fired at ferocious speed off the wall and down towards the dead. There is a silence. Then it impales one of the wights, knocking it off its feet.

One of the Brothers peers through the blizzard and confirms the hit. All the Brothers, even Noye and the sentries along the Wall, grab the chain on their end and pull on it, hooking it back in like an anchor. The wight is pulled forward and away from its fellows, yanked towards the wall. The spotter announces that it's working, and the Brothers redouble their efforts.

“Let's show those warm royal bastards what's after them!” Edd shouts.

The wight is dragged all the way to the base of the wall, then is pulled up the Wall towards them. Edd shouts for the chest to be readied. The blizzard covers them again, then hands reach out and grab the wight from below. The Brothers look down and see more wights pouring forward to grab their impales comrade and pull him back. There are dozens, then even more.

The Brothers try to fight back, but the weight of numbers below stops them. Edd orders archers forward, but as men drop the chain to fire at the wights, those still holding it stumble and lose their grip. The wight on the harpoon is pulled from both sides and is finally torn into several pieces, scattering in the wind.

The wights seize the harpoon bolt and yank it towards them, the chain with it. Those Brothers holding it are yanked forward with it and are pulled towards the edge of the Wall. Edd orders them to let go, but Connell does not, and reaches the parapet. He falls over it, and is only grabbed at the last moment by Noye, who strains every muscle to get him back over. The chain and then the harpoon are torn from the Wall and fall to the ground below, smashing.

The Brothers reel, Connell shaking from the shock, tended by Noye. Edd fumes. Endrew thumps the remains of the harpoon and roars into the blizzard, then storms off.

Bran is in his quarters still, trying to parse through his memories for something he can use. We see dispirit images like Sansa walking slowly through the Godswood, a Dornish soldier screaming on his hands and knees in sandy grass, and one maester handing a small vial to another inside a botanical chamber. Bran grows frustrated. He wargs into a raven.

The raven swoops, and Bran sees the remains of the harpoon at the bottom. Then he rises, but is suddenly assailed by the great eagle. He narrowly dodges it, then flies away, down towards Castle Black and on to Bran's windowsill. He sees himself in his chair, shivering, white eyed. Then he see Endrew marching up the stairs towards his door, carrying an odd saddle. Bran disengages, and Endrew enters.

Endrew tells Bran that he needs to get ready to leave. He drops the saddle on Bran's bed. It is the project Bran requested from Noye, and is now ready for use. He was too distracted by more important matters to put the finishing touches on, but they won't be necessary. Endrew tells him the men are weary of Bran's presence; they resent his pretensions of omniscience, those who don't think him a witch. Endrew suggests that he doesn't know anything, he's just a good liar and a scared boy looking for attention and protection wherever he can find it. Edd is blinded by his loyalty to Jon, who he thinks is coming back.

Bran insists Jon is coming back, and Endrew scoffs.

“You don't know,” he says. “You don't know anything. Vague promises or lucky guesses, that's your currency. Either way, you're a vulture to these men now. Who even knows if you're really a Stark? Men will get you a palfrey within the hour and send you off to Last Hearth. I hope you aren't a Stark, for your sake, after what they did to the last one they got hold of.”

“Rickon?” Bran asks.

“Oh, so you don't know everything then? You better start preparing, Lord Stark. Winter has come.”

Endrew makes to leave. Bran is shaken, but takes a moment before replying calmly.

“Your name is Endrew Tarth,” he says.

“Ser Endrew Tarth. Of House Tarth, from Evenfall Hall.”

“You're a relation of Lord Selwyn Tarth then.”

“He's my uncle.”

“That would make your cousin Brienne, wouldn't it?”

“Yes. Neither Lady nor Ser, but certainly my cousin.”

“She's a fine warrior,” Bran says. “Tall and strong. She's won great victories, and will win many more. She'll never be a Lady nor a Ser, but she will be remembered. In part for what happens here. She's coming here, Ser Endrew. You'll meet her here again, soon, and she'll lead an army.”

Endrew stares at Bran for a few moments, then grins. He shakes his head and laughs.

“Brienne is dead,” he says.

“No she's not,” Bran says. “She rides on behalf of my sister, Queen Sansa. She's in Winterfell as we speak, but not for long.”

Endrew's smile disappears, though he still isn't impressed. He suggests that Bran is colluding with someone, a Stark man perhaps, who is feeding him information from the rookery. Bran asks Endrew to check all the messages that have come into Castle Black to confirm he gained this information by his own sight. Then he asks Endrew if he will let Bran stay, if his next promise is true.

“Try it,” Endrew says. He no longer sounds so assured.

“Men are coming here,” Bran says. “Free willed men. They are marching through the snow to come here, to help. They're the first of many. They're carrying the banner of a giant.”

Endrew is amused and, calling it a game, says he'll give Bran a day. If these “free willed men” have not arrived by then, then Bran will be sent away without the pony.

The following day, Bran searches his memories once again. He is exhausted, clearly without sleep. We see the same images and random snippets again, but this time all are centred around the North. Jon and Sam taking their vows beyond the Wall, a young Ned Stark walking with a young Catelyn in the Winterfell Godswood, and pointing towards the tree. The vast cavalry host riding along the King's Road towards Castle Black. Maester Luwin dying by the weirwood. Then, finally, Sansa at that same tree, hands clasped tightly together and tears running down her cheeks.

“Look after my little brother,” she prays. “Look after little Rickon, like I couldn't.”

Bran breaks from his memories and his eyes well with tears. He hears screaming from outside and drags himself the floor on his stool to see out the window. A Brother is in a frenzy, tearing off his black cloak and weapons, crying out incoherently. Other Brothers rush to restrain him and, once he's stopped, the Brother breaks down in wretched sobs. One of those horrified witnesses is Endrew, who looks at the broken Brother, then up at Bran. He scowls, then marches up.

He crashes open the door, seizes Bran and drags him out the room then down to the yard. Bran does not resist even mildly. Brothers circle round him to watch, but none of them intervene. Endrew drags him down towards the gatehouse. Connell appears, brushing through the crowd, and demands an explanation.

“This boy is a curse!” Endrew shouts. “He has brought death behind him, he consorts with undead traitors and he torments us with his childish games! We face the darkest days imaginable, I won't have him behind my back! I won't!”

Endrew calls for the Lord Commander, and one of the Brothers rushes away towards the elevator. Nobody else moves. Connell looks to intervene, but holds back when Endrew glares at him.

“A Lannister bastard defending a would-be Stark,” he says. “What strange days these are. What fools you'd all make of yourselves. Enough tricks. Enough.”

He is interrupted by the sentry atop the gate, who calls down that somebody is approaching the gate. Half a hundred men, he says, bearing a banner. Endrew is startled. He hands Bran over to Connell then rushes up the stairs to the top of the gate. He reaches the top in time to see the men approaching the Castle, and their banner; a clothed bear with broken chains. Endrew laughs, but this time softly and through tears. The men arrive at the gate and the tallest of them calls up.

“Soldiers and fighters,” he said. “Umbers. We've come from Last Hearth. Preferable to Queen Sansa's dogs. We're at your service.”

“Open the gate,” Edd says. He's marching towards them, sword in his hand. He sheathes it.

The gate is opened and the Umbers enter, greeted by the Brothers of the Night's Watch. Endrew watches on, cowed, then looks at Bran with a face full of shame. Edd approaches Bran and notes that he's shivering.

“Let's get you inside,” he says. “Come on. Are you alright, Bran?”

“My brother is dead,” Bran says.

“Jon?”

“Jon isn't my brother,” Bran replies. (7.6, Home)

At Castle Black, Bran sits in the Great Hall and tells the gathered Brothers of the Night's Watch about what he has seen. Voice over plays over and describes images of first the Karstarks arriving as ordered, and then the remains of House Bolton coming to the gates. He describes their heraldry, the sizes of their dispositions, and even the physical features of their soldiers.

We move along to a now swelling Night's Watch as the new arrivals go about training, maintaining the castle and other duties. Edd is in his element, firing off orders to his new charges. There are now hundreds where before there were only dozens, and many are dispatched to the Shadow Tower and Eastwatch-by-the-Sea. We see the faces of the Brothers, and their smiles and brighter demeanour.

Bran moves between them on small palfrey, with his custom saddle keeping his legs in place. Most of the Brothers greet him or at least nod, and two reach out to touch him as he passes. He makes his way towards the keep but is intercepted by a tall, broad and bearded man.

“Begging your pardon, Lord Stark,” he says. “You are Lord Stark really. We all know that.”

He introduces himself as Mors Umber, who is now the heir to Last Hearth following the deaths of Greatjon and Smalljon. He takes a knee and apologises for his house's treachery, specifically its surrendering of Rickon to Ramsay Bolton, “an obvious beast.” He says he hopes that Bran can forgive his house, though he doesn't expect him to. Bran asks Mors to rise, and tells him to prove how sorry he is on the battlefield, when fighting for good. Mors nods and leaves him.

Bran attends a command briefing, which a cheerful Edd is chairing. Bran rides his palfrey inside but elegantly dismounts to get into a chair; he's clearly had time to practice. Edd congratulates Bran on more successful predictions, but suggests that they might need even more.

“There is more,” Bran says. “I told you before. A huge army will come this way, white horses with banners in the air, robins flying towards the moon, dots arranged between queer shapes, setting suns over the sea horizon.”

“Show off,” Edd grins. He holds up a message. “We know all about the army coming this way. Jon has sent us everything, the Northern army, the Vale knights, even the Wildlings. I never thought I'd be happy to see Tormund fucking Giantsbane again.”

“That's what the message says,” Bran replies. “But it doesn't say what happens next. That army will rally and it will charge, led by Jon, their king. They will defeat the enemy North of the Wall.”

The promise is not new, but it's received much more warmly this time. Edd titters, then wipes off his smile to address Bran more soberly.

“I hope you're right there,” he says. “But I don't think that's happening until Westeros gets behind us. You said it yourself. You proved yourself, now we need to prove our case. You said you wanted to help before. You still up to it?”

A little later on, Bran on his palfrey stands on the wall with Edd, who holds his reins. Edd asks what it is that Bran is looking for, but Bran tells him to be patient. He scans the horizon. Then, after a long pause, he freezes. “There,” he says.

Edd squints into the blizzards and then frowns.

“What, the eagle? It's just a bird. Bloody great eagle, we saw one of them at the Fist of the First Men. Never thought I'd see one this far south. Suppose there's no prey for it up there. Bran?”

Bran is focusing his energy on the great eagle, staring at it. His eyes partially roll and his jaw locks and he dribbles down his chin. His eyes flicker, and we see the great eagle writhe and jitter in its flight. Bran briefly sees from behind its eyes, but is almost immediately kicked out. As he comes round, he cries out in pain, grabs his head and slips back. The custom saddle holds him in place, however, and Edd rushes forward to steady him. The great eagle flies north and out of sight. Bran is shattered and slumps in his saddle.

Some time later, Bran is back on the Wall, and has dismounted his palfrey and sits looking north. He's clearly searching for the great eagle, but it's nowhere to be seen. Connell approaches and pats his palfrey, then asks what its name is. Bran is put out by the question, and admits he hasn't had time to think of one. Connell talks about the horse he had at Casterly Rock, Oak. “A huge destrier,” he says, “perhaps too big for his own good. They didn't let me keep him when I came here. I wouldn't have the first idea what to call a creature this small. Sapling? Seed?”

“Wyllis,” Bran says.

Connell is bemused. That's a name for a blacksmith, not a horse. Bran focuses on the horizon still, and Connell asks about warging, and Bran explains that it's “like waking up from a dream you know you're having. There's a second pair of eyes behind yours, and when you reach out you can feel them, and then when you open them you can see through a bird, a horse, a friend. But some eyes are harder to open than others. They feel buried under a mountain, or held closed by someone else.”

Bran sighs and stares. Connell looks out too, then turns to Bran. He assures him that the great eagle will return in time, once it realises that there's nothing for it to hunt. Bran considers this, then looks at Connell and grins. “Thank you,” he says. Then he wargs again.

This time Bran is a crow, a small bird fluttering above the buildings of the castle. He flies it away from Castle Black, over the wall and above the Haunted Forest. He keeps going, spiralling around the area, until a dark shape appears. Bran holds the bird still, circling, and lets the shape get closer and closer, until it takes form as the eagle. Then he turns the crow around and flies back towards the Wall. Finally he disengages, and looks at a bemused Connell.

“Fetch Edd and the others,” he says. “Make sure they bring the chest.”

Behind him, we see the great eagle come into view and pluck the crow from the air. Bran wargs, and again struggles with the eagle. Connell watches as the bird flails and spins. Then, finally, it drops the crow and falls from the air, plummeting to the ground. Connell looks at Brag and his white eyes, then back over the Wall. The eagle reappears, flying up and out of the blizzard. It glides to the Wall then shrieks loudly at Connell. Connell runs off, skidding as he goes.

A short time later, Bran is still controlling the eagle, he beats its vast wings and looks down on the forests and mountains and lakes of the Land of Always Winter. There is no sign of the dead, or of any enemy. The land is clean, beautifully serene. Bran the Eagle swoops and even sees saplings breaking through the snowy ground. He then turns and heads back to the wall.

The eagle is ferociously fast and speeds over the top of the vast army of the dead, then swoops down through the clouds and the white-out and reaches the wights. He grabs one of them with the eagle's monstrous talons and then rises, evading the swinging arms and then the flung projectiles of the dead. He keeps going, higher and higher, until the Wall suddenly appears above. Bran swings the eagle round and flies above the Wall, passing rows of soldiers who duck and point. Finally, he comes upon Edd and the others, stood around a large and open iron chest.

Bran brings the eagle over then releases the wight. It drops into the chest. The Brothers rush forward and cut its arms off. Endrew swings a hammer and destroys its lower jaw. Neutered, it reaches forward impotently. The Brothers close the chest and lock it. They cheer and hug and Edd laughs. He turns to Bran, sat shivering on the wall, still warging. The eagle flies north again, and keeps going under Bran's control. We briefly see the chest being placed on a carriage bound for Eastwatch.

The huge allied army makes its way up the King's Road and arrives at Castle Black, the gate barely wide enough to let them pass through, and the yard certainly giving them the space to come about. Captains drop back from the vanguard and order their troops to set up camp outside the walls.

Inside, Brienne, Tormund and Bronze Yohn Royce are greeted by Edd and his retinue, including Bran. The Watch are the happiest of the factions present, and Edd is positively friendly as he meets their new allies. The allied commanders are rather less enthused. Royce references his nephew Waymar, who was lost beyond the Wall sometime previously.

“One of the earliest victims, we think,” Endrew says. Brienne looks at him with very little warmth, and barely an ounce of recognition. By contrast, Endrew seems rather sheepish, and quite eager to catch her eye where he can.

Tormund notes how happy Edd is, unlike how he was previously. By way of explanation, Edd introduces Bran to the three, and Brienne is shocked. She says that Sansa needs to be made aware immediately that her brother is at the Wall, but Bran insists she not bother. He'll see Sansa again soon enough, and he doesn't want his presence to disrupt events. Edd suggests that they focus on immediate concerns; he has deployment strategies laid up, ready for liaison, but thinks they should see the threat first.

The two groups take the elevator to the top of the Wall and observe the army of the dead. Tormund looks concerned, perhaps because of the sheer numbers. Brienne is visibly disturbed, and Royce is utterly baffled. He suggests that these must be wildlings, savages of some kind. Edd offers to take Royce down to the lower tunnel and provide a demonstration of their “deadness.” Royce says this is not necessary; he has the good sense to listen to men who are clearly truthful. He takes the threat entirely seriously, as does Brienne.

That night, a caravan arrives containing the latest batch of new Night's Watch recruits, Theon among them. He stares in some wonder at the Wall and at Castle Black, and swallows hard. They pass the army camps outside and go into the Castle grounds. As they get off of their carriages, the great eagles swoops and forces Theon to duck. He looks up at the giant bird as it flutters above him, unfurling its wings. Theon is stunned. The eagle flies away, up towards the top of the rookery.

In his chambers, Bran disconnects from the eagle and goes rigid, startled. (7.8, Shipbreaker Bay)

More of Bran's visions, and emphasis on Jon's arrival at the Wall and then the stampeding, mass-cavalry charge through the snow, with only the briefest glimpse of fluttering banners, impeded and too quick to make out the sigil. Then Theon in the Godwood's of Winterfell, turning with a concerned look on his face. Then a huge shadow passes over him, a dark shape passing over Winterfell like a dragon.

Bran stirs from these memories. He is at the top of the Wall, within one of the battlements and atop Wylis. A steward – Satin – arrives, leading somebody. He explains that one of the new recruits insisted on speaking to Bran, claiming he knows him. Bran sees it is Theon, who can bring himself to look at Bran. Bran accepts the visit, though he is clearly angry still.

“I didn't expect you to come here,” Bran tells him. “Though I probably should have.”

“I deserve it,” Theon says. “For what I did to you and your brother, for my betrayal of your family, for the others I hurt and had killed. This is where I was meant to come. I'm glad you're here, Bran.”

Bran notes that Rickon isn't, and asks if Theon knew he was dead. Theon clearly did not and is horrified by the revelation. Bran berates him, going over the many terrible things that have happened to him since Theon drove them out of Winterfell. He becomes irate, furious even, crying and screaming with anger. Theon wilts like Reek once did. Two Brothers intervene, asking Bran if he is okay, but Bran calms down and dismisses them. He turns his attention to Theon again.

“This is all in the past now,” he says. “All of it, even this moment here is the past. It's always just the path leading to something else. The farm hands you murdered and burned are your fault. Rickon's death was not. What I am now, that isn't either. I can never forgive you for what you did, Theon, but I can tell you this. What you did to us will not be what defines you. It doesn't have to be what you are, and neither does anything that happened to you.”

“I do not know who I am,” Theon says. “Coming here was my penance. I didn't think I'd be spared by your sister, I never expected to still be alive. Now here I am, and here you are. I had to beg your forgiveness. What other reason could there be more me being here?”

“There is no reason really,” Bran says. “Not in the way you mean. Are you offering your services to me, Theon? Is that how you mean to redeem yourself?”

“I would if I could,” Theon says. “I would give my life to you, if you'd take it.”

“We'll see,” Bran says. “I hope the Watch is not unkind to you, Theon. Some of these men lack my sense of perspective. Forgive me, I need some inspiration.”

Bran wargs. With a clamour and a racket, the great eagle emerges from the rookery and flies out over the Wall and south. Theon watches it go in amazement. We follow the eagle as it flies over the abandoned Mole's Town and then over them King's Road. He then flies over a ruin off the road, partially hidden by bare trees. It overlooks the road and, when the eagle moves over it, the view of the pass is familiar. The eagle swoops down and perches on the caved in roof of a house. Inside is a white sapling with red leaves, growing out from between the stone.

Later on, Bran is indoors, in the library. He watches Theon training in the yard below, impressing Endrew and the new recruits with his sharp skills. When Endrew asks how he became so proficient with a sword, Theon says he had a privileged upbringing and was trained by some of the finest swordfighters in the North. Endrew says that once he would have seen that as a painful waste, but now it's happenstance for his fellow Brothers.

The conversation is interrupted by a group of Northern soldiers, who storm into the yard angrily. Two of them go for Theon immediately, ignoring the shouts of Endrew and the other Brothers. One of the Northmen grabs Theon and hoists him up while the other covers the first with a dagger. The Northman holding Theon is Ser Kendrik Ashwood, husband of Beth Ashwood, formely Beth Cassel and daughter of the late Rodrik Cassel.

“Nothing would give my young bride more joy,” he says, “than the treasonous head of her father's murderer. Lacking the liar's tongue of course.”

Endrew demands that the Northmen let Theon go, telling Kendrik that the crimes of Brothers of the Night's Watch are commuted when they join, and that they are immune to the laws and jurisdiction of the North. Kendrik is not swayed, and the other Northmen point their swords when the Brothers look to step in. Kendrik explains to the other recruits who Theon is, what he did to House Stark, and how he has lived in the kennels of the Dreadfort. Kendrik turns his attention back to Theon, and places the dagger to his throat.

“Beth's house is all but gone,” he says. “Father dead, by your incompetent hand. Cousins dead in King's Landing. She's the last one left. So many dead men of the North. Then you, living still.”

“Let him go,” Bran says. He has arrived in the Yard, more Brothers behind him. “House Ashwood does not answer to House Cassel, it answers to House Stark. If you do not respect the laws of the Night's Watch, you should respect the laws of the North.”

“Who speaks for House Stark here?” Kendrik demands.

“I do,” Bran says. “Brandon of House Stark, heir to Winterfell. Ser Endrew has authority here, and you will obey his instructions. Theon is not to be harmed. He is no longer in possession of his life, and you cannot take it either.”

The Brothers around Bran ready their weapons, standing around and before him. Endrew steps forward and places a careful hand on Kendrik's arm. Finally, the knight relents, releasing Theon and sheathing his dagger. He glares at Theon one last time, then turns his back on him.

“I'm sorry, my lord,” he tells Bran. “I did not know you were here.”

“You do now,” Bran says. “Do not forget that the eyes of justice are on you at all times here.”

Kendrik nods, shaken, then leads his Northmen away. Bran gives Theon a brief look, then turns Wylis away and leaves the yard. He is visibly troubled. As he goes, Satin follows and hurriedly introduces himself to Bran. He says he's heard that Bran can see the future, as well as things nobody should be able to remember about the past. Bran replies simply that he has seen things that have already happened, as they were seen by others. He has a brief flash in which he sees Theon writhing on desert sands crusted with a fresh frost, a horse collapsed over his legs. Bran winces and clutches his temples with his fingers, squeezing them. Satin asks if he is alright.

“I've overstretched myself,” Bran says. “Would you?”

Later on, Bran is back in his quarters, in bed. He is tired but puzzled, more so than he has been for some time. He remembers the white sapling inside the ruin, and then Theon in the Godswood of Winterfell and again in the frosted desert. The huge shadow moves across the water of the Godswood and Bran grows infuriated. “Look up,” he hisses. “Look up.”

Finally, he sees. The Godswood again, but at night. An ice storm engulfs the sky and a white out blizzard fades the edges of the image. The water of the Godswood is frozen over. There is the crunching of feet across ice. Then the Night's King moves into view, and approaches the source of Bran's vision. Bran stares, disbelieving. He shakes his head.

The Unsullied guards bring Jaime and the other prisoners to the gates of Castle Black and shout up to the guards. They explain that they are sworn to Queen Daenerys Stormborn of House Targaryen, and that they have brought their prisoners as a show of good faith to the Night's Watch. Once the prisoners have entered the Castle, the Unsullied leave, refusing an offer to stay overnight. They ride off into the snows, drawing suspicious looks from guards.

Inside, Jaime is met by Edd, who recognises him by the distinctive “golden claw” he wears. From Edd's demeanour and the looks of the Brothers and the Northmen who watch on, it is clear that he is not in favour here. The Lannister soldiers look to Jaime.

“I'd hate to land you in the middle of a political tussle, Lord Commander,” Jaime tells Edd. “I know how the Order feels about that. It must not be very impressive to men like yourself.”

“Beggars can't be choosers,” Edd says. “But they can't arbitrate either, can they? I suppose if Queen Daenerys isn't the right kind of Queen, I can't just accept her prisoners. Tell ye what, Kingslayer. I can't keep you or your men here against their will, and I won't be having you mind the Wall when your heart isn't in it. Stay here and you'll be fed, clothed and given bed and board. Leave, and you're out in the snow. Take yer pick.”

“You make us feel so welcome,” Jaime says. “We'll fight with you if you'll have us.”

“Up here,” Edd says, “we'll have anyone. Welcome to the Wall, Ser Jaime.”

Edd walks away to arrange accommodation and deployment. Ser Dalin Lefford, one of the chief Lannister soldiers, approaches Jaime and whispers to him that they cannot stay here. Daenerys' arrogance has given them the chance to flee and regather. They can be back in the Westerlands within weeks at a trot.

“Leave strategy to me, Ser Dalin,” Jaime says. “For now, I rather like the sound of heat, food and sleep. I imagine the men will too. We'll review tomorrow.”

Ser goes to help the organisation. Jaime wanders the grounds of Castle Black, noticing but refusing to meet the glares of the Northern soldiers and more than one of the Brothers of the Night's Watch, one of whom is Theon. Then Jaime senses he's being watched from above, and looks up. At the window of his quarters, Bran is staring at him. Jaime looks back, initially defiant and even cocksure, but the pain in Bran's eyes is profound and Jaime struggles to meet it. He sags and, finally, looks down and away in defeat. (7.9, Defender of the Vale)

A troubled looking Bran rides Wylis to the elevator, Connell accompanying him. The Brothers and some of the Northmen and Wildlings move aside for him in total reverence. They enter the elevator and take it up to the top, and stop only at the very edge of the wall. Bran looks down, and then turns and looks the other way, into the North. Through the snowstorms he eyes a thick thatch of woodland and turns to Connell.

“What other towns are near Castle Black?” he asks.

“Moletown was,” Connell says, “though they've abandoned it now. That's it, save the old castles. Nobody lives in the Gift, or anywhere north of Last Hearth.”

“What about ruined towns?” Bran asks. “There are ruins aren't there?”

“I believe so. Yes, Queenscrown I think it's called.”

“I've been there. It's just an old tower.”

“No, there's an abandoned village on the bank by it. Ser Mallador spoke of it once, one cold night. I think he was trying to frighten the fresh builders. He said that Queen Alysanne Targaryen stayed there one night, and that her dragon hatched eggs. But then Queen Alysanne left them behind, and they hatched as deformed creatures, half man and half dragon. That's why it was abandoned, they say. One of the Rangers, Ser Pierce, said he saw strange shapes there when he passed it on the King's Road, but I suspect it was a jape. All of it is, just nonsense. An old wives tale.”

“Many old wives tale have some truth to them,” Bran says. “At least they did once. I need to go there, I need to see this village.”

Connell doubts the Lord Commander will let him, for his own safety. The whole Night's Watch and half the North would throw themselves in front of the door before letting Bran go. Bran looks down at the army of the dead. The weather is also hellish, and the lands beyond the Haunted Forest are now invisible behind black clouds and blizzards. The sight stirs a memory in Bran. He sees the cavalry charge again, but then a banner too; a burning heart with a black symbol at its centre.

“Who carries a banner with a burning heart?” he asks.

Connell doesn't know. He's looking further down the Wall, where Jaime Lannister has appeared. Jaime walks to the edge of the Wall and looks down at the army of the dead. He blinks, half-smirking, as he doesn't really understand what he's seeing. Connell points him out.

“Have you met him?” he asks Bran. “My illustrious cousin? I doubt he'd see me that way. I heard he killed Elton, and he was a pure blood cousin to this man. Lord Commander of the Kingsguard. Knight of the realm. Kingslayer.”

“Goldenclaw,” Bran says.

Connell doesn't catch this, and asks Bran what he said, but Bran doesn't reply. He looks at the dead, moving a finger along his lip, thinking hard. Then he abruptly suggests that he's seen Ser Jaime do good, and knows he has it in him to do so again. He just needs better influences, and perhaps better family around him. Jaime backs away from the Wall's edge and looks their way. Connell nods politely and Bran stares at him rather more acidly. Jaime approaches.

“I was taking in the view,” he says. “My brother led me to believe it had more to it. He didn't mention the props either. That's what they are, yes? Wooden stakes and sacks, scarecrows meant to frighten off the birds, decoys. This is how you reel in your support, an unmoving false army, line after line of toys. More intimidating than shadow cats.”

“Hello, cousin,” Connell says. “Welcome to the end of the world.”

“You too, Con?” Jaime asks. “You're consorting with these tricksters?”

“How long are you going to pretend, Ser Jaime?” Bran asks. “How long until you accept what's before your very eyes?”

“You mean you,” Jaime says. “Apologies for being so rude. How have you been, Lord Stark? What brings you up here? I'd think you wouldn't care much for heights.”

“You know,” Bran says. “You know you only need to reach out and touch it.”

“The void?” Jaime asks. “It's rather hard to grasp.”

“You aren't the man you're meant to be.”

“I am who I am!” Jaime bellows. He trembles and his eyes grow wild. “Who are you to cast judgement on me, you broken child? None of you know, none of you! Why did you even survive? A fall that great. Maybe I should the job, I have an ally right here.”

“No, you do not,” Connell says. He stands.

Other Brothers close in, readying weapons. Bran sees movement within the ranks of the dead, sparking interest and concern among the Night's Watch. Jaime sees it too and is stunned. Bran wargs, and the great eagle emerges from the rookery. He flies it down off the Wall and then swoops over the dead. Their army is shifting forward rank by rank.

Bran flies the eagle down among them, trying to see the cause, but then a hand reaches for him. It grabs the great eagle and pulls it round with ease, face to the bird's eyes. It is the Night's King. It stares into Bran then snaps the eagle's neck.

On the Wall, Bran reels, gasping at the psychic shock. Connell and Satin rush to help him. Jaime watches on, completely bewildered.

As he recovers, Bran hears the speech Jaime gives as he announces to his men that he has taken the black, and his plea for them to join them in the Watch.

At Castle Black, the Knights of the Vale are packing up to leave the wall. Bronze Yohn Royce speaks briefly with Edd and then Brienne, and he expresses his regret and reluctance to pull his men away. However, he has no choice.

“My lord commands where I go,” he says, “whether I wish to go there or not.”

Brienne urges Royce to disobey Lord Robin and recognise the gravity of the threat they face at the Wall. It is madness, she tells him, to heed the whims of a boy at the price of leaving the realms of men weak. This wounds Royce, but he can only apologise further.

Bran appears from his quarters with Satin and panics when he sees that the knights are leaving. He remembers the cavalry charge again, though when he sees Jon and the charge beside one another, he sees that they are on opposite sides of the Wall. Jon is leaving the Wall from their side. The banners of the king leaving the cavalry unfurl in his mind's eye and the sigil at the centre of the flaming heart becomes clear, huge even. It is a stag. He blinks, then rushes after Royce and catches him at the open gate. The dismay of the Northmen, Wildlings and the Watch is clear around them.

“You cannot go,” Bran tells a startled Royce. “You are meant to stay here, you are meant to lead the charge. I've seen it, Lord Royce. I've seen you ride with the Baratheons to victory.”

“Baratheons?” Royce asks. “There are no more Baratheons left, Lord Stark.”

He pulls away, leaving Bran in near a stupor. The Knights of the Vale ride away as the weather worsens, a white-out surrounding Castle Black. Satin tends to Bran as he stares after them. Other Brothers look at their prophet with worried glances, Connell among them. Satin leads him away, and assures him as they go that men cannot be trusted with prophecy; they always want simple answers when the reality is more complicated. Bran quietly asks Satin if the Baratheons have ever come to the Wall, and Satin grins.

“Oh yes,” he says. “Stannis Baratheon came to us and defeated Manse Rayder and the Wildling horde just past the Wall. He was more of a king than any of those lot down south. But I heard he was beaten trying to free your home, my lord.”

Bran reels from this revelation. When Satin asks if he's okay, Bran does not reply.

Some time later, Bran is in his quarters. The weather has driven almost everyone inside. Hale falls along with the snow, and it is nearly pitch black. Torches are extinguished by the wind alone. The door opens, and a bedraggled Edd enters. He goes to the hearth first and warms his hands before turning to Bran sat under his furs. He looks panicked, his confident smile gone.

“This wasn't meant to happen, Bran,” he says. “Ye told me what was supposed to happen, a cavalry army riding North of the Wall to defeat the dead. Jon leading them, a king, you said. There's been no word. No word from the Citadel, no word from Jon, no word from anyone. All the cavalry are gone. We've got enough men to man the Wall and the forts. Nothing to counter-attack, nothing to move quickly. No plan beyond manning our posts. They're worried Bran, they're scared.”

“Lord Royce could come back,” Bran says. “Or somebody could take his place.”

“Could?” Edd half-cries. “You mean to say you don't know?”

“So much is missing,” Bran says. “I would need another look, another sight. A weirwood.”

“You aren't leaving this castle,” Edd says. “Nobody else leaves. That's how the ship sinks, Bran. I'd know about that, I've seen how quickly things turn even when there's a good man at the helm. I've seen good leaders stabbed in the back by their own men.”

“You've seen good men return from the dead,” Bran says.

“Aye,” Edd replies. “But that's one, one against a million. I wasn't meant to lead, Bran. You said those nice things about me, but I was always going to be an awful Lord Commander. I was only meant to keep the seat warm for Jon, and where is he? King in the North? King going south. You're all we've got Bran, and it's could, and things are missing. I haven't kept much faith in things. Not family, I barely had one of those. I had to come here to eat for fuck's sake. Not the seven. I never got why you needed seven to do the job, that's not the right work ethic for me. Not the Old Gods. Not the Lord of Light, though we could fucking use Him here now. Not anything, not until you came along. You had me, you had me right from the start, probably because I needed something, needed to believe something. None of it's real, is it? It's just a nice lie.”

“I'm not lying,” Bran says. “I can't see it all, not yet, I need more memories, I need more sight. But I know that you prevail, I just don't know how. That's what you do. You are a great Lord Commander. You've kept these men together and kept them ready and willing. They've been through everything, but none of them have stabbed you in the back. They've stayed by your side. You can lead them to victory, Edd. I can't. I can't even walk. You need to do that for me.”

Edd nods, rubs his tired eyes, then nods again. He looks into the fire and cracks a grin.

“I remember how it felt when that army came to us,” he says. “It wasn't because there was help. It was because you were right, and I knew there was no way you could have known unless you really could see. I still know that. I hope I feel that way again, Bran.”

He straightens up, pulls up his hood and leaves, back out into the white-out. After the door closes behind him, Bran doubles over and weeps in his furs, hugging them tightly. The wind screeches outside and the shutters in the windows rattle. “Please,” he murmurs. “Please.”

Bran stands at the edge of a thick marsh that lies between him and a dense, near-tropical forest. Three figures stand in the treeline watching him, shadowed by the canopy. He turns and sees a snowstorm behind him, the dark and burgeoning clouds blown his way. He begins wading through the marsh towards them, but becomes bogged down quickly.

A croaking crow flutters down to him and lands on his shoulder. Then another on the other shoulder. Then another, and another, until he wears a cloak of crows. He looks back over his shoulder. Below the storm clouds is the blizzard, and in it a dark line of marching soldiers. He continues forward, but slows and slows in the treacherous swamp. He looks forward and sees the figures ahead. An old man smiling, holding the hand of Meera Reed. Hodor stands beside them, frowning. Meera shouts to him, a cry of alarm, “Bran!”

Bran looks back. The army of the dead line the edge of the swamp behind him, stretching out of sight. They make a space in the centre and the Night's King advances slowly, strolling forward. The marsh freezes in front of his every step, forming a bridge towards Bran. Bran tries to rush forward, but the crows weigh him down, pushing him into the water, and his legs cease to move. His head is submerged, and then the Night's King comes and reaches for him.

Bran gasps awake. He is in his quarters at night, sheltered from the fury of the snowstorm. As he rouses from his sleep, he sees more memory snippets. Most are vague and familiar, like the Night's King in the Godswood. But then he sees the White Walkers' spiral, the mural Benjen formed in the courtyard of Castle Black. It is formed of golden light inside a cave, suspended in mid-air. Bran takes deep breaths then wargs. We see the POV of someone rising from a bed surrounded by other Brothers of the Watch, then marching out into the blizzard night, until he stands in the courtyard, across from the steps to Bran's quarters. Bran surfaces from the warg, then clambers out of bed and pulls himself to the door, using the furniture as apparatus.

Outside, the conditions are horrific, with snow piling up and most of the Castle invisible. There are lights visible in windows, but nobody is outside. Bran pulls himself along the gallery and down the steps into the yard, into the snow. He crawls through it, shivering and teeth chattering, moving towards the stable. Halfway there, he crumples, stopping and lying flat. He lies there for several moments until a Brother crunches over to him and pulls him up. The Brother carries him to the nearest shelter and sets him down. He removes his hood; it is Theon. He looks baffled, a little scared even. Bran asks Theon why he's there, and Theon says he doesn't know. He is clearly disturbed by what has happened to him. He asks why Bran is there, and why he was crawling through the snow.

“I need to reach a weirwood tree,” he says. “I saw one, at Queenscrown off the King's Road. A sapling, but a weirwood nonetheless. It's the only way I can see.”

Theon says this isn't possible; new weirwoods haven't grown for centuries. There's nobody left to plant them, he says. But Bran insists. He's going to get Wylis and ride for Queenscrown regardless of what Theon thinks. But he looks at Theon in some expectation. Then, after a sigh, he tells him; “you deserved to suffer like you did, Theon. You paid the price for your crimes. The scales are equally weighed. But I know you can be a good man. Now you have the chance to be one.”

Theon is struck by the weight of this but, even as he falters and quivers, he makes himself nod and sets his jaw and then helps Bran to his feet. “We better not wait,” he says. “This storm will only get worse as the night goes on.”

They get their horses from the stable, quietly moving past a sleeping watchman, but then Bran directs them into a nook between the buildings, just short of the gate. Theon asks what the delay is, but Bran tells him the timing is important.

A while passes, and the pair are half-frozen. Then there's movement above the gate as watch duty changes. Bran waits until the old shift has gone, then leads Theon out to the gate. The challenge comes from above. It's Jaime. When he sees who it is, he's struck.

“What in seven hells are you doing out here?” he shouts. “Go back. The cold will get you.”

“It won't,” Bran says. “I've seen what will.”

“Was it an arrow?” Jaime asks. “Because that's what I'll use if you don't go back.”

“Worthy of a kinslayer,” Theon shouts. “Shooting crippled children in the back from afar.”

“Fine words from a child-killer,” Jaime replies.

“Like you are,” Bran says. “In your heart at least, Ser Jaime. But that's not all you are, is it? That's what nobody here understands, what nobody seems to understand. Like my father didn't understand, that you can be a good man as much as evil. Why should you only be judged for the evil when you saved so many lives? Burn them all, he ordered. That name they gave you should be a badge of honour, but it's not. You need a new badge.”

Jaime has no response. He frowns. The other Brothers on watch observe silently.

“You pushed me before,” Bran says. “Now you can let me go, and earn my forgiveness. You'd never ask for it, but I know you need it. You can have it. I cannot help to do good while stuck here, but you can. They'll need somebody to look to when they see I'm gone. Be that, Ser Jaime. Be their Goldenclaw in the night. Be the man you were always meant to be.”

Jaime, again, is speechless. He tries a few times but does not speak. He looks at Bran, then at Theon, at their set faces and expectation. He sags, then orders the Brothers to open the gate. When they don't move, he activates the mechanism himself. The gate cranks open. Bran and Theon ride out. As they go, Bran looks back and gives Jaime a smile and a nod. Then they disappear into the white-out, headed for the King's Road.

Bran and Theon ride through the ferocious snowstorm. Bran loses his way, unable to see Theon or any landmarks around him. Just as he appears adrift, Theon appears and comes to him and straightens his ride. They move together through the snow.

Daylight barely penetrating the snowstorm clouds, Bran and Theon arrive at Queenscrown. The tower is still recognisable though buried under snow, and Bran looks at it sadly as they pass. The lake has frozen, but on the other side there are white shapes of roofs and chimneys. Bran leads the way, Theon keeping a hand to the hilt of his sword as they go.

When they get to the ruined village, Bran rides very slowly, looking back and forth between his place amongst the buildings and the view of the King's Road beyond the lake. Then, abruptly, the sight becomes familiar. Bran briefly sees the Knights of the Vale riding along the road, heading for the Wall, a clear memory. He turns to the ruined house behind him and dismounts carefully. Theon helps him to his feet, then gives him a boost so he can climb over the ruined wall and clamber into the house. Bran slips off the stones and lands heavily on the dirt inside.

“Bran?” Theon asks. “Are you alright?”

“I'm fine,” Bran replies. “I haven't climbed walls in a long time.”

“You shouldn't,” Theon says. “Look what happened last time round.”

Bran chuckles. He crawls and clambers through the house until he finds the white sapling at a window. The ground around it is fresh compared to the rest. The tiniest of faces has been carved into the tree. Theon's muffled voice returns, asking if the tree is there. Bran confirms it is, and wonders aloud who planted it. He takes a deep breath, then lays his hand on the bark.

A series of new images appear. There is a Northern soldier stumbling across the Winterfell Godswood, pursued by a White Walker. He sees Sam with Maester Walgrave in the rookery garden looking at Bran and frowning, as if he knows somebody is watching him. Men with long coats and high collars crunching through the snow. A river freezing over. The spiral in the cave once again, then a snowstorm assaulting the Citadel Hightower with dark shapes moving behind it. The Wall with a huge gap in it. The ruins of King's Landing, as seen by Daenerys' vision. Hodor, then still Wylis, collapsing into a fit in the courtyard at Winterfell. Then a voice echoing over it all.

“Don't look away,” Jon says. “Father will know if you do.”

Then Bran sees himself as a young boy, stood by horses with his father.

“Do you understand why I did it?” Ned asks. “Do you understand why I had to kill him?”

“Our way is the old way?” Bran the boy says. Ned nods.

“The man who passes the sentence should swing the sword.”

Bran emerges from his vision, taking deep breaths. He straightens his shoulders and raises his head. Then he hears Theon shouting for him outside. He climbs out of the ruin and follows Theon's direction towards the now-distant Wall. Snow like an avalanche is cascading over the top, burying Castle Black in ice and freezing air. Bran shakes and shivers.

“It's starting,” he says. Then he shouts in pain. He pulls his arm out from beneath his robes. The mark on his forearm burns blue. He screams in agony, and Theon grabs him, holding him close. (7.10, Lord of Light)

Season Eight
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Season Nine
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