JAIME LANNISTER AND THE WHISPER OF THE SHADOW"
Bran Stark's fall sent a chill through Winterfell deeper than any Northern wind. For days afterward, the castle felt uneasy — guards patrolling more frequently, servants speaking in hushed tones, and the Starks moving like ghosts in their own home.
But where normal people whispered out of fear…
Jaime Lannister listened out of curiosity.
THE RUMORS SPREAD
It started with a pair of Winterfell guards outside the great hall:
"—swear I saw a figure last night, tall as a sellsword, near the broken tower."
"You and your drink. No one walks that ruin."
"He wasn't walking. He was watching. Like he belonged there."
Jaime slowed his step.
Another day, he overheard stable boys:
"The Shadow saved the Stark girl from a bear, they say."
"That's a different Shadow, idiot!"
"No—same one! The one who gave the bastard boy that strange sword."
Jaime's eyes narrowed.
A stranger.
Some ghost of the North.
And connected to that sword the king had asked about.
Rumors grew each day:
— a man with a metal arm
— a man who appeared and vanished silently
— a protector watching from the dark
Most Northerners shrugged it off as superstition.
But Jaime Lannister was not a man who ignored threats.
JAIME ASKS QUESTIONS
One evening, Jaime stepped into the courtyard where the guards trained. The men stiffened—no one relaxed in the Kingslayer's presence.
He approached a guard polishing his spear.
"You," Jaime said calmly. "Tell me about this… Shadow."
The guard swallowed. "Just rumors, ser."
Jaime lifted an eyebrow. "I like rumors. Continue."
The guard licked his lips. "People say… a stranger was seen the night the boy fell. And after. Watching the broken tower."
"Watching," Jaime repeated. "Not climbing?"
"No, ser. Watching. Like he knew something."
That made Jaime's stomach tighten.
"Describe him."
"Tall. Broad. Moves quiet for a man his size. And his arm—"
But before the guard could finish, another soldier elbowed him.
"That's enough. We don't speak of such foolishness in front of a Lannister."
Jaime smiled coldly. "On the contrary. I'm very interested."
But neither man said more.
PRIVATE SUSPICIONS
That night, Jaime stood at the base of the broken tower himself. The stones looked no different — the same place he had pushed the boy from. The same place everything started to unravel.
But now there was a second set of eyes watching Winterfell.
A stranger neither Stark nor Lannister.
A stranger who gave the bastard boy a near-mythical sword.
And a stranger who appeared where Bran had fallen.
Jaime looked up the tower and whispered to himself:
"Who are you, Shadow?"
The wind answered nothing.
But Jaime felt a presence — something unseen, observing him.
For the first time in years, the Kingslayer felt a sensation unfamiliar to him.
Not fear.
Not guilt.
A challenge.
Something dangerous was moving in the North — and it wasn't a Stark.
THE LORD WHO KNELT BEFORE A SHADOW
Winterfell — Three Weeks After Bran's Fall
Snow drifted softly over the broken tower. Servants whispered, bells were silent, and all of Winterfell carried the weight of a boy who should have been running across the courtyard, not lying paralyzed in a bed.
Bran Stark was alive.
But broken.
The maesters had delivered their judgment:
"His back is shattered. His legs will never feel life again."
Ned Stark had stood there, stone-faced… but inside he shattered alongside his son.
And then he heard it.
Another rumor.
Another whisper.
The Shadow can heal wounds no maester can.
At first, Ned dismissed it as Northern superstition.
Until Ser Rodrik Cassel, Old Nan, and even the quiet Winterfell guards repeated it.
A man with a metal arm.
A man who fought a bear with his bare hands.
A man who saved Arya.
A man who appeared when fate twisted.
A man who had given Jon Snow an impossible sword.
A man named Leo Pendragon.
NED STARK MAKES A CHOICE
Night fell when Ned Stark finally stepped out into the cold, accompanied by:
Maester Luwin
Ser Rodrik Cassel
Two loyal guards
And Cley Cerwyn, Winterfell's master-at-arms
All of them united in quiet desperation.
Ned followed the faint trail through the trees until he reached a clearing lit by a dim fire.
And there he saw him—
the Shadow of Winterfell—
Leo Pendragon, sitting alone sharpening a blade.
Ned approached, heart pounding, then did something no lord of the North had done in living memory.
He knelt.
The guards gasped.
Ser Rodrik whispered a prayer.
Even Leo tensed.
"My lord Stark," Leo said, rising. "You need not kneel to me."
"I do," Ned said, voice breaking for the first time since the fall. "I am not here as a lord. I am here as a father."
Leo stilled.
Ned bowed his head.
"Save my son.
If you cannot heal him completely, then at least… at least give him back movement. Give him a chance. Let him stand. Let him feel the earth again. I beg you."
The Shadow had seen many things in this world already. But seeing Eddard Stark kneel was something different entirely.
Behind them, Maester Luwin stepped forward.
"If you truly have power beyond a maester's hands… use it. He is a sweet boy. He deserves more than a bed and a broken life."
Ser Rodrik added, voice rough:
"Help him. For the North. For the Starks."
THE SYSTEM SPEAKS
Inside Leo, the system chimed softly:
[HEALING MODULE — ACTIVE]
Use: Full-body regenerative restoration
Side Effect: Patient will lose TWO DAYS of memory
Memory may be restored later ONLY through magical means
Proceed? Y/N
Leo froze.
He looked at Ned. At the desperation in his eyes. At the hope flickering behind exhaustion.
"Ned," Leo said slowly, "I can heal Bran. Completely. But the price is memory."
Ned swallowed. "Memory?"
"Two days," Leo answered. "Gone. Lost. Those memories may return—if magic touches him later. But I cannot promise that."
The clearing fell into suffocating silence.
Maester Luwin grasped his chain nervously.
Ser Rodrik clenched his fists.
Even the guards shifted uneasily.
And Ned Stark… closed his eyes.
"I care nothing for two days," he said at last. "I only want my son to live a life worthy of him."
Then he lifted his head.
"Do it."
THE HEALING OF BRAN STARK
Leo nodded, stood, and followed Ned and the others back to Winterfell. When they entered Bran's chamber, the boy lay pale, small, and fragile, surrounded by candlelight.
Leo placed his hand — metal and flesh — on Bran's spine.
The system hummed:
[HEALING MODULE ACTIVATING]
[REGENERATING NERVES…]
[REBUILDING BONE…]
[RESTORING MOTOR FUNCTION…]
Bran's body arched, glowing faintly beneath Leo's palm.
Luwin staggered back.
Rodrik whispered, "Gods…"
Ned gripped the bed post to stay upright.
The magic-like energy faded.
Bran exhaled softly and slept, peacefully for the first time since the fall.
Leo stepped back, sweat rolling down his forehead.
"It's done. He will walk again."
Ned covered his mouth as tears escaped.
"You saved him… You saved my boy."
THE SIDE EFFECT
Maester Luwin asked quietly:
"Will he remember falling?"
Leo shook his head.
"He will forget the last two days before it."
That made Ned go pale.
But then his face hardened.
"Good," Ned said quietly.
Because those two days included:
— Cersei
— Jaime
— The forbidden scene in the tower
— The secret that could tear the realm apart too soon
Bran forgetting…
might just save the world from burning too early.
NED'S FINAL WORDS TO LEO
Before leaving the room, Ned placed a hand on Leo's shoulder.
"I do not know what you are," Ned said softly, "or why the gods sent you to the North… but I owe you a debt beyond honor."
Leo said nothing.
And Ned Stark — honorable, unbreakable Ned — bowed his head in gratitude once more.