"Burn them all!"

Bran woke up. It was just a nightmare, but the Mad King's voice still ringed in his ears. Bran was afraid of him. Sure, he had a good reason as Aerys burned Lord Rickard, Bran's grandfather, alive and strangled his uncle Brandon too but the man was dead, slain by the one they call Kingslayer, Jaime Lannister. Why does a dead man strike so much fear into the young wolf's heart?

"What happened?"

Meera came to his side, bringing him a jug of water from a small river nearby.

"Just dreams. Don't worry about me so much!"

"Well, I can't just leave you like this, can I?"

"Ugh, you should but I believe nothing in this world will make you do so!"

"You're right!"

"Thank you for the water, Meera. I shall eat a little and then, back to the weirwood."

Meera knew better than to argue with Bran. When the Stark was set on doing something, he would do it, no matter what, probably because of the wolf blood in his veins. Bran ate a bit of salted beef before Meera helped him to the weirwood tree:

"Now, let's see what are you going to show me this time!"

Saying this, he put his hand on the tree and the familiar sensation returned. Now, he was in another castle, completely unfamiliar to him. It wasn't the Red Keep, nor Winterfell. It was somewhat darker and far somber than Winterfell. He was in a large room with large windows but no matter how big they were, light was pretty dim there. Also, in the middle of the room was a large table painted with a huge map of Westeros. Immediately, Bran knew where he was.

Dragonstone!

He walked around the Painted Table of Aegon the Conqueror, admiring the work of art that it was. Before being able to glare for long, the doors opened and a young woman with black hair, dressed in a long, yellow dress with a Targaryen dragon brooch on her chest. Bran didn't take too long to confirm who she was.

So that's Princess Elia!

Indeed, she was Elia Martell, daughter of the late princess of Dorne, Mora Martell, sister to Princes Doran and Oberyn and of course wife to Rhaegar Targaryen. After a few moments, another person entered the room, this time a middle-aged maester with a large chain and black robes. Bran didn't know the man's name.

"Princess, what are you doing here? I was told by your septa that you are here. You were supposed to be in bed! Your fever hasn't passed yet!"

"I know, but... I just wanted to come here and watch the sea... Here is the best view of the sea from inside the castle, as you refuse to leave me stay on the battlements at least."

"My princess, how can I? I must take care of you! It's my duty as your maester!"

"I know, Harys, and I thank you for it! You are the only friend I have in this castle... You and those dragon statues. Do you think they can hear me?"

She laughed, but it was a sad laugh. Maester Harys laughed with her too.

"Sometimes, I wonder myself that too. Since I was a boy in Maidenpool, I dreamed to see dragons with my own eyes. I was obsessed with them. Surely, they are only statues but... Real dragons were here too in the past when Aegon planned the conquest of Westeros from this very table."

"Indeed. Dragonstone is a castle fit for a conqueror and I'm afraid it doesn't agree with me very much."

"You still miss Dorne, my princesss?"

"What about you, Harys? Do you miss Maidenpool?"

"Well, not much. You know I was the sixth son of a fisherman and when my father beat my mother so hard that she was left deaf in her left ear, I swore to heal her by going to the Citadel and learn to become a maester but she died during my stay in Oldtown, killed by the same man who tormented her for years. He pleaded for mercy and asked to be sent to the Wall, where I hope he will die slowly and painfully, with frostbite eating his every member! So I don't miss Maidenpool very much."

Harys' answer saddened the princess, and Bran too. Some life stories were sadder than the others. Bran thought his destiny was cursed, after he was forced to leave his home and wander the North for so much time, losing his family in the process. But through the visions, he found out that other men, who lived in another time, had sad stories, some of them even sadder than Bran's own. He contined to listen:

"I'm sorry, I really do. I miss Dorne very much... not Sunspear as much as the Water Gardens. The sound of children playing in the water, naked as the day they were born, equal, without shame, not knowing who is of high birth and who is not, the smell of blood oranges in the morning's air, my mother's stories and her eyes, always so understanding and compassionate, my brother Oberyn's japes, Doran's smile... He smiled a lot, you know? Even more so after his children were born. Having a son or a daughter is a beautiful moment, you know?"

"I don't know much about that, my princess. I have helped many women give birth but I have no sons or daughters of my own, so I can't say I know the feeling."

"It's the most beautiful thing for a man, but even more for a woman, to have your son or your daughter in your arms, a piece of you, a little piece of you... It makes you forget the immense pain you were going through to bring them into the world... A woman loves her children unconditionally, no matter if they were fathered by a miller or a fisherman, or even a dragon..."

The princess' eyes were filled with tears.

"Are you alright?"

"I am. I'm just nostalgic, that's all. So... any news from my husband?"

Maester Harys' face darkened:

"Well... this is why I wanted to find you, my princess!"

"What happened?"

"I have news from the capital. His Grace, King Aerys, wants you to return to King's Landing. You and the children. Something happened!"

Elia stopped crying. Now, she was utterly shocked. She feared the Mad King just as much as any man and to be summoned by him meant death for a lot of people.

"Tell me, Harys!"

"Lord Rickard Stark and his son Brandon are dead."

"How... Ugh... I am sorry for them, truly, but... how does that affect me, or the children?"

"King Aerys put them to death after they came to the capital to complain about the fact that your husband, Prince Rhaegar..."

"What about my husband?"

"Your husband apparently abducted Lady Lyanna Stark. As she is to be married to Lord Robert Baratheon, you understand that this deed is unforgivable. The reports say that Brandon Stark arrived at the Red Keep with a retinue to challenge the prince but he was nowhere to be found. However, His Grace considered Stark's accusations treason and had him arrested, alongside his friends. He summoned Lord Rickard to court and then..."

Elia Martell started to tremble:

"Then... what?"

"The king burned Lord Rickard alive and strangled his son who watched his father being cooked alive in his own armor."

The images forming in Elia's head were horrendous. She met Lord Rickard and his son at that damned tourney at Harrenhal and he seemed like a good, honorable man. To meet such a fate was awful, and all because of her husband's passion for the She-Wolf of Winterfell. Elia painfully remembered how Rhaegar Targaryen put that crown on Lyanna's lap, instead of giving it to her. She didn't think much of that at the moment, considering Rhaegar was just trying to win the Northmen's friendship but now, his gesture seemed to have another kind of intentions behind it. She still couldn't believe how Rhaegar could be so... heartless, so dishonorable. Every man in the Seven Kingdoms knew that Lyanna was promised to Lord Robert of Storm's End who loved her with a fierce passion bordering obsession. More so, Robert Baratheon was the prince's second cousin, as his grandmother was Rhaelle, the daughter of Aegon the Fifth. No, this can't be true! If this is true then...

"My princess... We're at war!"

Bran returned back in the present, with Meera Reed beside him.

"What did you see now, Bran?"

Bran Stark sighed:

"Innocence and pain..."