1) Bran : The advance of winter

Disclaimer : This death and those to come aren't a part of the original story. We have no expectation and you just borrow the Games of Thrones' characters which don't belong to us, of course.

This fanfiction was made by both Rimeko and Salizardia.

(The M rating is here only because of deaths in each chapter, we don't want to shock anybody.)

This fanfic was at the beginning written in French, because it's our main language, but I thought that more persons will read it if it was in english. So I (Rimeko) translate it... I hope I made it well enough !

.

.

I was cold, very cold (nda : we have no other idea to begin with).

Between the firs, a path of footprints had been made the snow and led to an old white tree with a red foliage. Below were lying two shapes muffled in their thick fur coat. The smallest, a young boy, looked weak and exhausted, however he kept his eyes open whereas the girl besides him was already sleeping, curled up in order to protect herself from the wind. He was contemplating the huge ice wall in frnt of him, a wall that they would have to pass in a way or another in the next days, risking death in the enterprise. The army of the deaths was close behind them and they would only find a shelter once this hurdle crossed.

The sleeping girl moved on his left and, opening her eyes, she looked at him with a tired glance to note that he was awaken.

- Bran... You need to sleep. Tomorrow we will have to face great hardships.

The cripple did not answer, think with bitterness that she would have to struggle alone in the times to come. They could not stay together any longer, he was just a burden for her and he refused that she would die because of him, like all the others. I just had to make her understand.

- Meera... he began awkwardly. I have to talk to you.

The black-haired girl gave him an interrogative glance.

- We should split up, he said with no more introduction.

The eyes of his interlocutor widened in astonishment.

- Er ?

- You will have to continue without me. We won't survive together ; on ly you can manage, said Bran quickly without let her protest. Furthermore, I need that you transmit a message to Jon for m-

- No way ! I won't let you to the death – to worse than death, not after all we have been through together. My brother died for you, I refused that it has been pointless !

- That was not useless, Meera. Thanks to him, we managed to find the Raven and I will pass away their powers before... before... you see what I mean. You will juste have to give the rest of the informations to my successor and to those you can act. I need you, he added while gripping her arm and looking in her eyes. You have to tell them what is happening here, you have to warn the inhabitants of Westeros.

- Do you really believe that I will let you here, all alone ? Who do you thinh I am ?!

- If you refuse to understand, I will be obliged to take the control of your body, Meera, and the Gods know that I don't want to...

- But I can't just let you here ! she argued, getting on her foots quickly.

Bran remained silent, watching her while she was debatting with her conscience. He trusted her, she would take the right decision. And she finally did, although her reluctances.

- What is it, this message for your brother ? she asked without looking at him, her shoulders hunched.

After she had listened to the young cripple's answer, she left and didn't turn back – neverthelesse, she was crying. Without a word, he watched her walking away among the trees until she finally disapearred.

- Good Bye, Meera, he said under his breath – and the cold wind took his words to the pale sky.

.

He didn't have to wait for a long time among the frozen firs. Soon after the young girl's departure, hoofbeats resonated in the quietness of the North. The White Walkers had found him again, now he had only a very few time of living remaining and he had to performe one last task : pass away his inheritance. He closed his eyes and his consciousness expanded around him like a bird spreading his wings.

After a while, Bran finally found the one he was looking for. It was a young woman, a wildling who had taken refuge in Winterfell, with the blood of the First Men running through her veins. He touched lightly the surface of her spirit before letting her know all the situation, the slowliest I could in order to not rush her, and then he transmitted his powers. Henceforth she was the three-eyed raven, and him could die.

The young boy opened again his eyes and discovered that the Night King was standing a few steps away from him, surrounded by his fellows. He blenched. The air was so cold that it seems it would be enough to kill him and his hands were as insensitive as his paralysed legs. Tears began to run down his cheeks but there they froze, as in Old Nan's tales he liked so much to listen to during the summer – before.

Bran hardly felt the blade of the White Walker thrust into his chest once, and again, and again. His eyes, locked at the sky, clouded et the shadow of the death darkened them while he didn't granted the slightest glance at his murderers. A bit of blood ran from his lips, leaving a scarlet trail on his sallow complexion.

The Others passed out of sight between the trees as if they had never been there, disolving themselves in the winter they belonged to.

.

.

Thanks you for reading ! You can review, follow, favourite... it will really please me ! :)

The next chapter will be about Theon and Yara, it is already written in French and I hope I will find the time to translate him soon... But it's a hard job.

Good day to you !