"Yes," Bran answered without hesitation. It had always been one of the boy's favourite pastimes. "Well I mean, I did like to."
"The boy has lost the use of his legs," Maester Luwin informed him.
"What of it? With the right horse and saddle, even a cripple can ride."
"I'm not a cripple," Bran said, clearly hurt.
"Then I'm not a dwarf," Tyrion quipped in return. "My father will rejoice to hear it. I have a gift for you," he added then, producing a slip of paper and handing it to Bran. "Give that to your saddler. He'll provide the rest. You must shape the horse to the rider," he explained. "Start with a yearling. Teach it to respond to the reins and the boy's voice."
Bran studied the paper, before looking up at Tyrion with hopeful eyes. "Will I really be able to ride?"
"You will. On horseback you'll be as tall as any of them."
It was a strange bit of kindness, but a welcome one, for the look in Bran's eyes alone. Seeing him so downtrodden in the past few days had broken Asena's heart.
"Is this some kind of trick?" Robb asked, still cold as ever. Only seeing the lion, and not the kindness he had shown their brother. "Why d'you want to help him?"
"I have a tender spot in my heart for cripples, bastards, and broken things." She knew it, then. This Lannister was quite unlike the others. 
"You've done my brother a kindness. The hospitality of Winterfell is yours."
"Spare me your false courtesies, Lord Stark," Tyrion told him, exhausted, and Asena could not blame him for it. "There's a brothel outside your walls. There I'll find a bed and both of us can sleep easier."
Tyrion turned and exits the hall, and Asena excused herself from the table. She followed the lord to the courtyard, where his horse awaited him. "My lord," she called, quickening her pace, "my lord."
He paused his steps and turned to meet her calls. "My lady. To what do I owe the pleasure?"
"A word, please," she requested. He nodded once, and dismissed his men, though hers stayed, lingering along the walls. A frustrated sigh passed her lips and she told them, "you have all seen me wield a sword countless times. Do you truly think that were he to attack me, I would be harmed?"
That was enough to convince them. In moments, they were alone. "My brother has yet to learn that to say the words 'thank you' is not weakness," she explained, "so I will say them on his behalf. Thank you, my lord, for the kindness you have done my brother. I have not seen him so happy since before his fall."
"It was my pleasure, my lady."
"Then I will leave you to retire to the brothel." She turned to leave, but his next words stop her. 
"Jon Snow is a fool."
"I beg your pardon?" She turned her body back around to face him. 
"Jon Snow is a fool," he repeated, but this time with more conviction and a smile. "I was with him on the Wall for a few days. When I left, he asked me to deliver a message to you. It was only this: that he misses you."