121 Ch 56 Things I Do For Love... Part 1

"...I just want to know who you are and where you're from?"

Jon's voice immediately made the boy freeze in his tracks. He gulped while slowly turning his head with a look of dread on his face as if he was about to be punished for trying to sneak away. Bran had hoped to get away from here while the two of them were distracted but it seemed that he was just too unlucky and the boy named Jon had spotted him.

"Don't worry, Bran. We are not going to hurt you," Jon said soothingly with his hands raised away from his sword. He also stopped some distance away from him to not scare the already terrified boy even more, "I just want to know where you're from, Bran,"

"I-I don't have a fixed home..." The boy answered hesitatingly, his eyes going from Jon to Sam, ready to sprint at any hint of violence, "B-But I used to live in Pentos when I was little..."

"Pentos? Really..." Jon asked with a hint of confusion in his tone, "But 'Bran' doesn't seem like a Pentosi name, does it... Are you sure, you're not from the North?"

"Er... Why do you keep asking that, Jon?" Sam suddenly intervened while getting up and walking over to stand beside Jon. The boy from Reach was still a little less queasy but felt much better after drinking some water, but he made sure not to look directly towards the dead bodies, nonetheless, for his stomach's sake. "The boy doesn't look like a Northerner to me?" Sam had spent quite many a months in the North so he could say with certainty that he could recognise a Northerner anywhere with their distinct accent, their constant gruffiness and their pale looks, and as far as he knew blond hair and blue eyes weren't Northern traits.

"He may not look like it..." Jon replied quietly while looking at the boy with an intense look in his eyes, "But he's definitely got the blood of the first men in him..."

While there were still some people with the First Men's blood alive in the other six kingdoms, like the Dayne's, the Blackwoods or the Mountain Men of the Vale, statistically speaking, if you find one here all the way in Essos, then most probably he is a Northerner instead of originating from those small pockets of people.

But Jon's scrutinizing gaze was making the boy shiver, which Sam noticed and he decided to intervene before his friend made the boy piss in his pants. "You may be right, Jon... But I think it would be better if we release his binds and get him warm before asking him any more questions..."

Jon was startled out of his thoughts before he looked at the boy and nodded his head, "Of course, You're right, Sam," he said before looking toward the boy with an apologetic look, "I am sorry, Bran. I was being too hasty," The boy just mutely shook his head at his apology, "Right, then! Sam, you take care of his binds and give him some water while I take care of the...er...bodies..."

"Sure," Sam replied quickly. He was happy as long as he wasn't the one who would have to deal with the bodies.

....

A few minutes later, Jon arrived back into the clearing with Peggy after taking care of the corpses. He had deposited them somewhere far enough that the smell wouldn't lure any wild animals to their camp. He didn't find anything worth taking off the Sellswords but he still brought back some miscellaneous things that may help Bran, things like a sword, a bow, some clothes, a pair of shoes and some local currency, among other things.

The boy looked a lot calmer now, as Sam seemed to have fed him the last remaining soup in the pot and some jerky. He was now seated on a rock on the other side of the fire and was gurgling water from their water pouch like a man who had been parched for days(which he probably was).

Only when the pouch was almost empty of water did Bran lower it with a distinct look of relief on his face, "Ah! That hit the spot—" he stopped midsentence and fell silent when he noticed that Jon had arrived back from his excursion. Unlike Sam, whom he had gotten familiar with in the last half hour, he was still a bit scared of Jon. After all, he had seen him demolish three skilled sellswords like it was nothing, and what was scarier was that he looked even younger than him.

"Was it good?" Jon asked amusedly while raising his eyebrow towards the pouch after seeing the boy suddenly going quiet from embarrassment.

"Oh... yes, it was the sweetest water I have ever tasted..." The boy answered with a shy smile on his face before his eyes suddenly widened as he looked down at the almost empty pouch in his hands, "Shit! I finished all your water," he burst out with a stricken look of guilt on his face. Water was a very precious commodity around these parts, and he knew how stupid it was for him to chug so much of it as he did.

"It's fine," Jon waved away Bran's worries with an unbothered smile while taking a seat beside Sam, "You can drink as much as you want, after all, we can always get some more..."

"But how..." Bran mumbled the question with a confused look on his face because as far as he knew there was no source of clean water nearby and the closest river was at least two days distance away by horse.

"Don't worry about it," echoed Jon and Sam simultaneously with identical smiles on their faces at his curious look, and Bran let it go.

There was a few minutes of awkward silence after that but before long Bran became uncomfortable with the curiosity in Jon's eyes and decided to speak up, "Um... When you were talking about North earlier... asking if I hail from there..." He began while receiving encouraging nods from Jon, "Well... were you talking about the North of Westeros... The one with Starks and the Hornwoods—"

"Yes! That's exactly the one I was talking about," Jon confirmed with a pleased look on his face, "In fact, I myself am the son of a Stark..." he said pointing at himself.

"You are?" Bran echoed with a look of shocked awe on his face, "B-But I thought the Starks were the Lords of Winterfell... If you are a Stark then why are you out here all alone with just the two of you..." Bran's mind couldn't comprehend why someone so important would roam this dangerous wilderness with no guards with him.

"Oh! You misunderstood... I have the blood of the Starks but I am not the heir. You see, I am a bastard so I don't carry the Stark name and am not really important enough to have guards—" Sam scoffed at that, "—so I don't have too many restrictions on where I can go." He finished with a shrug.

"Is that so..." Bran nodded with a confused look towards Sam wondering why he scoffed at Jon calling himself unimportant. He kept feeling that these two helpful strangers he was lucky enough to meet in the wilderness were just too mysterious.

"So you really are from North?" Sam asked curiously, bringing the conversation back to the main topic. He was still a bit sceptical and kept looking at Bran with a scrutinising gaze trying to find any hint of Northerness in the boy.

"I-I think so..." Bran answered hesitatingly, "Or at least that is what my father told me... He always told me that we are Northerners by blood..."

"I remember those sellswords mentioning something about ransoming you to your father for money," Jon said with a frown on his face, "If you tell us the name of your father and where he is, maybe we can help—"

"No! They were wrong!" The boy suddenly shouted startling Jon and Sam, "I repeatedly told them that m-my father is not rich at all but they didn't believe me and just beat me up," he rambled anxiously, "I am not lying! you would really not make much gold from ransoming me, so please—"

"Calm down, Bran," Jon interrupted the worried boy calmly but firmly, "You are mistaken. I just wanted to know your father's name and where he is to see if we can find him and help you reach him... that's all." Jon explained with a shrug, "Besides, we are rich enough that I don't think we need to ransom kids to earn money." Sam snorted at the massive understatement about how rich they were.

"Oh..." Bran said, his eyes jumping from Jon to Sam, looking closely at the young faces in front of him and only after seeing the clear eyes with no lies did he breathe a sigh of relief, "That's good, then... Umm, I am sorry for doubting you... It's just..."

"No, I understand," Jon said nodding thoughtfully, "After what you've been through... you're bound to be a little wary..."

"T-Thank you..." Bran replied gratefully, "I have heard many tales of how Northerners all simple folks," he continued scratching his cheek shyly, "I guess there was some truth to them..." Of course, he had also heard that they are all barbaric and brute-minded people who fight at the drop of a coin... but he wasn't about to say that.

"Tales? From whom?"

"My Father," Bran said while looking into the fire with a nostalgic smile, "He used to tell me all kinds of stories of the North... And even though he himself has never been there, he still proudly considers himself a Northerner and even introduces himself with a family name..."

'Never been to North,' Jon mouthed while exchanging confused glances with Sam, 'How could anyone have a Northern family name if he's never been to North,'

"Wait? What was this Family name again?"

"Huh? Oh! It's Hornwood!" Bran replied with a tilt of his head making Jon and Sam's eyes widen in surprise.

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