And then dragged somewhere

Bran is awaken by the sound of keys opening the door of his cell. So Stannis finally decided to let him go?

The Stark got up from the floor and got ready to be escorted to more appropriate bedchambers. One of the guards, however, pulled a bag over his head and another immobilized him. Bran thrashed and insulted them. But a young lad who hadn't eaten properly for days now was simply no match for armoured sentries. He was running out of patience with the ungracious host that was Stannis Baratheon.

The Northerner counted 74 steps before they took the bag out of his head revealing a spacious room in front of him. The guards rudely pushed him inside and locked the door behind him. Bran kept banging on the heavy wooden door.

"Let me out of here you..."

"Why such a bad temper, lord Stark?" The Stark's ears went up when he heard that voice. He turned to look and sure enough the red woman was there.

"Why am I being thrown in here? Let me out!" He exclaimed.

"We are just showing hospitality to one of our most honoured guests." Melisandre innocently indicated to the pool at the center of the room. "I'm sure that after spending so long in a cell a nice hot bath is appreciated. "

Bran noticed that he wasn't brought to some **** chamber like he'd thought, but rather the castle's bath house. He looked around to see that the pool with hot water was not the only thing worth of notice.

A small table and a couple of chairs had been arranged next to one of the black rock walls that seemingly composed this keep. Wine and food sat on top of it, taunting him.

"Do you treat all your 'honoured guests' by putting a bag over their heads?" The Stark snarkily replied.

"I apologize milord, but in the case that you escaped and decided to turn your back on us, we could not risk it you knowing the outlay of Dragonstone."

So that's where he was then. Stannis' dreary fortress. The red woman poured the wine into a goblet and offered him. Bran hesitated, he still did not consider these people 'allies'.

"Don't worry lord Stark, we're not going to poison you." Lady Melisandre said. Bran still didn't budge, he was not so trusting nowadays.

The redhead took a sip, apparently annoyed with her guest's paranoia. She offered him the goblet again. Bran took it from her and gulped down the rest of the liquid inside. The taste was sweet and grabbing the jug on top of the table he served himself another, almost spilling it on the floor. He watched her smile from the corner of his eyes. The Stark turned his look to the fully-breasted woman. There was that feeling coursing through his manhood again.

"Please milord, eat." She gestured to the bread and roasted fish on the table. Bran sat and started wolfing down his food. He figured that if they didn't poison his wine they wouldn't do it to his food. Melisandre sat opposite watching him. He wasn't sure if watching was the most appropriate word for it. More like observing, or studying.

"What?" He inquired while gulping a piece of bread with wine.

"Just the way you eat lord Stark." She responded.

"Why? What's wrong with it?" That was the way every Northmen he's ever seen ate. The way king Robert ate, when he came to Winterfell all those years ago.

"Nothing, milord." The redhead got up from her seat and produced a small piece of cloth. She lit it on fire and proceeded to light the several candles that surrounded the pool on the center of the chamber.