It seemed like time went in slowmotion as Hera ran towards Bran's chamber. Her mind was spinning with questions. Bran, was an excellent climber. He had climbed thousands of times, in all kinds of heights and weathers, but he had never fallen before. Until now.

Hera stopped abruptly outside Bran's chamber doors. She stared wide eyed at the young boy in the bed. His small body was wrapped up in a cocoon of blankets and furs to keep him warm. His eyes were shut and his skin were as pale as snow. He laid completely still, never even stirring. He looked like death himself. At his feet, laid his direwolf who had still not been named. Its head rested on its paws, and its eyes were closed.

Hera felt her heart clench as she looked at the distressed form of Catelyn Stark. She sat at Bran's side, knitting something Hera had never seen before. Lady Stark's eyes were red, from the lack of sleep and the countless hours of crying she had been through. She had dark bags under her eyes, and she looked much paler than usual. Hera noticed that her hands were shaking as she knitted the structure.

Hera swallowed down the lump in her throat before she slowly walked inside the chamber. Lady Stark turned her head to see who it was that entered the chamber, her whole posture suddenly stiffening. Upon noticing that it was Hera, she relaxed, but not completely.

"My lady, I am so sorry about what happened." Hera said as she stopped by the foot of Bran's bed.

Catelyn didn't answer, but instead kept her eyes on her hands, which were still knitting the structure. Hera felt awkward standing there, like she was intruding on someone's private time. Still, she loved Bran dearly, and she felt like she needed to be there. She moved her feet a bit before she sighed. She decided that now was not the best time to be around lady Stark.

She walked over to Bran and slowly bent down and placed a soft kiss on his forehead. His skin was still warm, giving Hera a spark of hope. Hera stood still watching Lady Stark for a couple of seconds before she spoke.

"I'll pray to the gods for Bran's wellness." She didn't get an answer, so she walked out of the chamber with a heavy heart.

*

If there was one thing Hera had found out helped her cope with sadness and sorrow, it was to practice. That's why Hera now stood by the stables, taking her anger out on a dummy. It was the same dummy Jon had been swinging his sword at yesterday. It seemed like the dummy never got a break from being attacked.

Hera twirled around gracefully, before she struck the dummy in its stomach. She kept striking the dummy with all the strength she had. She didn't care that her arm was burning, or the fact that she was ruining the dummy by slicing through its stomach. She didn't even care about the feathers that flew out from the cut in the dummy's torso.

"I feel bad for anyone who will be in a swordfight with you." Hera sighed in irritation for being disturbed. She stopped attacking the dummy and turned around to face none other than the famous Tyrion Lannister. He looked up at her with intrigued eyes, probably because he had never seen a woman wield a blade before.

Hera didn't answer, only looking at him with a neuteral face. Tyrion shuffled on his feet before he spoke again. "I'm terribly sorry about young Bran, such things shouldn't happen to anyone." Hera bit the inside of her cheek as she removed her eyes away from him.

"No, they shouldn't."

It seemed like Tyrion understood that Hera did not want to talk about Bran, so instead, he changed the subject. "So" he started in his usual cocky voice. "Hera Nyvell, I've heard many stories about you."

Hera lifted an eyebrow as she looked down at him. "And what kind of stories is that?"

"You're the last person from House Nyvell to live, the heir to your House." he said, which caused Hera to roll her eyes.

"And here I thought your story would be interesting."

Upon hearing her remark, Tyrion Lannister chuckled slightly. "Some people even think you're immortal, or a witch." That caused Hera to look at him with narrowed eyes. "People wonder how a fourteen year old girl survived a massacre."

"That's the stupidest thing I've ever heard." Hera exclaimed. "There is no such thing as magic, that only exist in fairytales!" she huffed as she ran a hand through her chestnut hair.

Tyrion shrugged. "People believe the craziest things." Hera put her sword back in the holster around her hips, because she had a feeling that she would be stuck talking to him for quite a long while.

"So, tell me, my Lord" Hera mused, which caused Tyrion to smirk slightly. "Why are you out here by the stables this late? I would have thought that you had more appealing things to do with your time."

"I enjoy the night air." Tyrion simply answered. "Well, it was a pleasure talking to you, but I have to take my leave. I have a lovely lady waiting for me in my chamber."

Hera made a grimace, before she nodded. "I was going inside anyway."

They parted ways, and Hera soon found herself walking down the hallway where her chamber was. Her chamber were at the end of the dimly lit hallway, so she had to walk by countless other chambers to get to hers.

As she passed a chamber, she heard what sounded like sobs coming from inside. With furrowed eyebrows, she leaned closer to the door to hear better. She was right. Someone was crying, but it sounded like whoever it was, they were trying to muffle their cries.

Hera's eyes widened as she came to the realisation that the chamber belonged to Robb. Robb was crying. She couldn't just let him cry alone in the dark. She softly knocked on his door. The crying abruptly stopped, causing Hera to feel nervous.

The door opened slowly. Robb stood there, his hair messy, and his eyes red and filled with tears. He was trying to keep his sobs in, she could tell. Hera felt her heart clench at the sight of him. Robb was very brave and proud. He would never let anyone see him cry, but sometimes you just can't hold the tears back.

It didn't take long before Robb let out another sob. Before he could blink, Hera closed the distance between them and pulled him into a hug. Her arms circled around his neck, gently resting on the back of his head and on his back. Robb's arms went around her waist, pulling her closer. He shook as he buried his face in her shoulder, finally letting his sadness out completely. Hera gently rubbed his back, trying to comfort him as best as she could.

"It will be okay."