Disclaimer: I don't own Bran, Jane or Will. They belong to S. Cooper.

His unnatural white hair just barely covered his eyes, which were peeking from beneath it. The eyelashes framing them were like snowflakes, pale and cold. His long, white fingers softly brushed the edge of the harp, his other hand danced across the taut strings, playing the memory of a melody. He bit his lip, hiding a smile as he played on. The music seemed to come straight from somewhere in his chest, blooming out trough his fingertips.

Jane stared at him with her mouth wide open. Bran had always seemed to be somewhat… distant, not all there. But, as she watched him play, she felt that for once she was in the same room with him. All of him. She hummed a harmony.

Bran looked up appreaciativley. He had never realized how pretty she was. Well, he had never really been able to get past her very English way of talking. But as she hummed the Welsh lullaby, her eyes dancing, he felt deeply connected to her. She was as caught up in the music as he was, floating, falling with the soft caresses of the tune.

These were the last two notes. He hated to bring this to an end, so he savored them slowly letting them hang in the air much longer than was necessary. Jane got up from her crossed-legged position, and went to stand next to him. Bran got up and leaned the harp lovingly against the wall. She met his deep golden eyes, not in the least repelled by their oddity. She was drawn in.

He reluctantly headed toward the door, and she followed. As they went out into the windswept landscape, Will headed toward them.

“What were you two doing?” Will looked past them to see if anyone else had been in the room.

Bran and Jane shared a secret smile that Will did not fail to notice. As Jane turned and started to head toward the open field, Will looked again at Bran.

“What was that about?” Will asked Bran curiously as they both watched Jane’s back as she slowly walked up a hill.

Bran just shook his head, the same smile on his face.