Game of Thrones - One Shots/Imagines: Part Two (Completed)

Bran Stark X Reader - Soulmate AU (Requested by Amazing_Artemis.)

A/N- This imagine was requested by Amazing_Artemis. I ended up being heavily inspired by Haven't Met You Yet by Michael Bublé. I hope you all enjoy it. 

(P.S. Tonight is the start of the new/last season of Game of Thrones! I aim to keep this book a spoiler-free zone until the season is completely finished, so please don't be the spoilsport who comes in and ruins the experience for everyone else.)

You felt a chuckle bubble up in your chest as you read the words etched onto your skin again. 'Please, don't tell my mother, she'll be so mad.' You had hoped that your soulmate would say something smooth, or romantic, upon meeting you for the first time, but no, yours would be begging you not to run to his parents telling tales. Some part of you was thankful. You couldn't help but thank the gods that it was something so distinctive. Imagine, thinking you had met your soulmate only to turn around a few months later to find the real deal somewhere else.

The morning you finally met your soulmate you had been taking your father's latest batch of fresh bread up to Winterfell. He was so busy, what with the King's impending visit, that he was confined to the bakery, and so he had sent you in his place. You had almost made it to the kitchens when a boy, no older than yourself had dropped from the stable roof, landing on his arse in front of you. You yelped at his arrival and his eyes went wide as he looked up at you in surprise.

"Please, don't tell my mother, she'll be so mad," he started, getting to his feet and taking a few tentative steps in your direction. "I'm not supposed to be climbing," he added and you responded with a small, breathless nod.

He smiled then, his entire face lighting up as he looked at you. "Thank you." And then he was gone, running past you and towards the front gate, as though he hadn't noticed that you were standing right in front of him.

You had continued your journey in a foul mood, handing over the bread to the head cook and slumping back towards home. There was no other explanation, the boy was your soulmate and you hadn't thought to say a word. You cried yourself to sleep that night, wishing that for one moment you had been brave enough to talk without holding yourself back.

*Time Skip*

For days following the interaction with your soulmate, you had made yourself into a recluse, hidden away in your bedroom in the hopes that everyone would forget that you existed. At first, it was your mother trying to ease you back out into the world, promising you that you would get to meet the boy again and that he would be head over heels in love with you. When that didn't work it was your sister's turn. She seemed a lot more realistic, perching on the end of your bed and tugging the sheets away from your face so that you would have to look at her.

"He will never know that you exist if you don't leave your bed," she told you, giving you a little shrug, "and then all of this moping would have been for nothing." She nudged your leg slightly, and you allowed a small smile to find its way onto your lips. "Come on, the King is coming to Winterfell. We should be up there celebrating, not hiding away in our bedrooms."

Gods know how she had managed it, but you were both up at the gates of Winterfell less than an hour later. "What does this King look like?" you asked her, your fingers linked tightly through hers as your mother had made you promise to do. When crowds got thick in Winterfell it was easy to get lost, or so she said.

"I don't know," your sister paused for a moment, craning her neck to look into the crowd.

"Then how will I know which one he is?"

She scoffed at your words, glancing down at you for a moment as she raised her eyebrows at you. "He will look King-ly," she answered you, "and he'll be wearing a crown."

You were about to retort, something about how princes and princess could wear crowns too, when the crowd began to cheer, the words becoming unintelligible as they grew louder.

"I've got an idea," your sister told you, leaning down so that you would hear her, "but you have to promise me that you won't tell a soul." You nodded and she quickly dragged you out of the crowd.

It turned out that your sister's plan had been a good one. You were both perched atop the outer walls of Winterfell as the royal travelling party approached. The smile that stretched itself across your face was so wide that it made your jaw ache, but you couldn't stop it.

You glanced back over your shoulder, looking out across Winterfell when the boy caught your eye. He was running across the roof tiles like a cat, each step landing perfectly, one after the other, until he reached the edge of the building. It was then that he looked up, his eyes widening as they met yours. For a moment you thought he was going to pretend he hadn't seen you, his eyes flitting down to the floor before flying back to you, but then he began climbing again, quickly finding himself at your side.

"Hello," he started quietly, "it's good to see you again. I'm Bran."

You panicked, your words sticking in your throat as your mouth fell open in surprise. You finally gave up, giving a short nod in place of talking.

Your sister sighed, reaching out and pulling your sleeve up your arm so that the words that marked your skin were on show. You could already feel your cheeks heating up, turning an unflattering shade of cherry red.

"Oh," Bran uttered softly, leaning forward to look more closely. He teetered slightly and you reached out, grabbing his shirt tightly in your fist to stop him from toppling from the wall.

"Do you have a death wish?" you hissed out, looking down at the floor. It was a solid 15-foot drop and the ground didn't look like the softest of landings.

The boy let out a sudden, sharp laugh. "I've wondered why my soulmate would have to ask me that for years," he exclaimed suddenly, leaving you staring at him in disbelief, "I never thought it would be about falling off of a wall."

"You're insane," you told him, glancing behind you to find your sister struggling to hold in laughter.

He shrugged, shifting to his feet and balancing precariously on the top of the wall. "I've got to go, or my mother will lose her mind, but can I meet you here later?"

You paused, considering his suggestion for a moment. "I'll be here."

He smiled, taking your hand in his to bring it up to his lips. "See you soon," he uttered softly, before making his way back down to the floor to greet the King.

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