章 77: Chapter 75
As the Starks approached the Godswood, the atmosphere was thick with uncertainty. Eddard Stark greeted Bahamut with a mixture of respect and fear. Bahamut, in his human form, acknowledged the greeting with a knowing smile, fully aware of the apprehension he instilled.
"Greetings, Lord Stark," Bahamut replied, his gaze shifting towards the ancient Weirwood tree. The mention of the Old Gods and the Weirwood seemed to stir something in him, a connection to the ancient ways of the North. Eddard Stark, unsure of how to respond, remained silent, the weight of the situation heavy upon him.
Turning his attention back to the Lord of Winterfell, Bahamut spoke with a calm demeanor, "It seems the North still holds onto the traditions of the Old Ones." Eddard Stark offered no response, unsure of where this encounter was leading.
Breaking the silence, Bahamut addressed the matter. "Lord Stark, could you bring your son Bran here?" The request hung in the air, accompanied by a sense of foreboding. Lady Stark's eyes widened with concern as she exchanged a worried glance with her husband. Eddard, with a heavy heart, instructed his eldest son, Robb, to fetch Bran to the Godswood. The unknown intentions of the dragon in human guise left the Starks on edge, their minds filled with uneasy anticipation.
Then they spotted a black, adorable creature darting through the Godswood, resembling a dragon. Aware of another dragon nearby, none dared to approach Aithusa, who paid little attention to the humans. Calmly, Bahamut addressed Eddard while fixing his gaze upon him, "Lord Stark, what were your family words?" Anxiously, Eddard replied, "Winter is coming." Bahamut retorted, "Still, you are unprepared, Stark. Winter has already arrived, and they are marching to the north."
Eddard struggled to comprehend Bahamut's words. Meanwhile, Robb not only brought Bran but also other young Starks, earning a disapproving glare from their mother. Confused, Eddard inquired, "What do you mean, Lord Hand?" Bahamut, maintaining his composure, turned his attention to the nervous Bran and declared, "They are preparing for the second long night. The force holding them back is no longer formidable." Slowly advancing towards Bran, Bahamut continued, "The White Walkers are returning." Bran, displaying fear, shrank back on his chair as Bahamut approached, prompting him to remark, "You are already aware of my arrival, Bran, or should I say, he revealed it to you?" Bran nodded, overcome with fear.
The other Starks remained in stunned silence, absorbing the weight of Bahamut's words and Bran's response. Breaking the tension, Bahamut questioned, "Do you wish to become someone else's vassal?" Bran, already aware of the path laid out for him by the Three-Eyed Raven, remained silent. The future, revealed to him by the Raven, was in constant flux, leaving him perplexed. In response to his confusion, the Three-Eyed Raven manifested with a destructive appearance, shedding light on the ever-changing future.
Finally, Bran spoke, "You are a variable." Bahamut, smiling, replied, "That's one of my charms, kid—unfathomable. So tell me, do you wish to give away your body and soul to someone else?" Catelyn, nervously sensing the gravity of the situation, interjected, "What do you mean, Lord Hand?" Fear evident in her words, and the others were equally apprehensive, realizing they were in conversation with a formidable beast.
Bahamut, maintaining his calm demeanor, turned his attention back to Bran, waiting for an answer. Bran, contemplating the weight of the decision before him, finally responded, "I've seen what I may become. A vessel, a tool. But the future keeps shifting, changing every day. I am unsure."
Bahamut chuckled, a deep, resonant sound, "Indeed, the future is a fickle thing. The threads of destiny constantly weaving and unraveling. Your uncertainty is understandable, Bran Stark."
As the Starks exchanged uneasy glances, Bahamut continued, "However, your potential is immense, Bran. You hold a unique place in this tapestry of fate. The question is whether you'll embrace it or let it slip away." Bran, grappling with the enormity of his choices, remained silent, torn between the path laid out before him and the unknown future he could forge for himself
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