It's a man and a woman

The light of the torch hurt his eyes. Bran made out the figure of two people. A man and a woman. The man looked to be on his fourties. He had balding grizzled black hair and short beard equally grizzled. His brow was furrowed, displaying a serious and cold expression.

The woman, in the other hand, seemed quite younger. Her late twenties perhaps. She had a narrow waist and a heart-shaped face. But what most caught his attention was her hair, a copper so strong it resembled fire.

"So this is him?" The man spoke.

"Yes, your grace." She responded. The sight of her full breasts provoked something inside Bran's pants but he had to ignore it for now. The Stark now realized that he was definitely not in Winterfell, and the man before was not a Bolton.

"Who in the seven hells are you? Where am I?" The 18 year old asked.

"You're speaking to Stannis Baratheon, first of his name and the rightful king of the seven kingdoms." The woman spoke in a fierce tone. Wait, so there was a siege! Bran imagined that the Boltons had been defeated. But then, why was he on a cell?

"You're Bran Stark, son of Eddard Stark, aren't you?" Stannis inquired rather curtly. The Northerner slowly nodded his head, he supposed there was no point in keeping a secret while he was a captive.

"I've met your father. He was a stubborn fool like my brother." He confessed. "Your brother was another fool who decided to deny his loyalty." Bran didn't fully appreciate the way this man was talking about his family, but decided that staying quiet was better than to protest.

"Now your father's dead, your brother's dead. Which makes you the rightful lord paramount of the North and the last living or not missing Stark left." Bran was confused, his sister still had to be in Winterfell he had gone there to rescue her...

"W-what do you mean? My sister, she..."

"Sansa Stark is dead." The Stormlander responded rather bluntly.

"The traitor's bastard Ramsay Snow sought to that before we could take the castle." The red woman continued. "You were lucky. He was going to kill you too had we not stopped him in time."

"Lucky?" Bran choked out, tears threatening to spill out of his eyes. "My whole family is dead and you call me lucky?!"

"Whatever you want to be called, we need the loyalty and support of the bannermen sworn to house Stark." Stannis didn't seem to care much for the boy's suffering.

"So what? You want me to bend the knee?" Bran retorted while mockingly bowing from his cell.

"I don't need your misplaced antics, I need an alliance secured in blood, which you'll..."

"It's better if you leave this for... uhmm... after, your grace." After? After what? Bran inquired mentally. "Tell me, lord Stark. Which one of your sisters would the Northmen follow more loyally?"

"What? Why?" The lord asked confused.

"Answer lady Melisandre, Stark!" Stannis bellowed.