Brandon stared at the ceiling. Bored and with a tremor in his heart.
He had always been a foolish man. Since childhood, it was his brother Tohrren who had a good head on his shoulders. Brandon used to fight with other children in the street, sometimes for food and other times simply because they had offended their mother. She... she died too soon.
Tohrren was the one who could understand Jaehaerys' words without feeling like his head was going to explode. Brandon was simpler: give him a sword, an axe, and a name. That was what he was good at.
And even at that, he failed. A simple man, worn armor was all he needed. The prince offered him better, but he wanted to keep it. And now he had to take poppy milk to ease the pain a little. The arrow went right through to the bone. He didn't manage to kill all the men. He didn't manage to protect Sansa, or the prince's daughter.
Both were safe. Jaehaerys and Arya had brought them both to safety. They had been in danger because of Brandon's incompetence. 'Will the prince now discard me?' he wondered amid the pain and anguish.
"You have quick hands," were the first words he ever heard from the prince.
"Let me go!" he remembered shouting at him.
The prince's fist hit him like a steel mallet. He felt like he was about to vomit. A boy a few years younger than him knocked him to the ground with a single blow. That had never happened before. It wasn't that he had never met anyone stronger, but they were older men.
"My prince, please forgive my brother!" Tohrren came to his rescue that day. Brandon watched his brother's eyes open wide with fear. He had never seen him afraid before.
Brandon had tried to rob a prince. What fate awaited him if not losing his head? Tohrren understood.
"But... I need something in exchange for his life," said the silver-haired boy.
'All the great lords are just looking for a way to get more, no matter if they need to take copper coins to do so,' Brandon had thought at the time, watching Tohrren take out a bag with a few coins.
"It's all we have!" said Tohrren. The prince took the bag in his hands and weighed it. The look of disinterest on his face infuriated Brandon. They would go hungry for days, while for the prince it was nothing. It wasn't even enough to buy a thread of his fine clothes.
"Here, get some wine," said the prince as he threw the bag back at Tohrren. He didn't return it as he had received it. It was heavier, with five gold coins inside. Brandon looked around, but he was alone; the prince didn't even have an escort.
"Wine?" The prince wasn't even ten years old; why did he want wine?
"Yes... Lord Stark won't let me drink from the castle. If you can't find wine, anything that makes my mind dizzy will do. You can keep the rest of the gold," he said.
Brandon kept the five gold coins. It wasn't difficult for him to steal a little wine, so why should he pay for it? That's what he thought at the time, but in reality, Tohrren paid for it. He was always the kinder of the two.
Tohrren knew that by stealing, he would be depriving someone else of food. Someone who understood what hunger was couldn't find it so easy to take what belonged to others. Brandon knew that too, but if he had to choose between Tohrren or a stranger going hungry... he would always choose the latter.
"You're both... strong for kids. Do you want to train?" the prince asked them, his small face sour from the taste of alcohol. Tohrren nodded, and Brandon trusted his brother.
It was the best decision of his life.
"You seem quite melancholy," he heard the prince's hoarse voice say, while looking at the ceiling. Jaehaerys' eyes were red with blood.
'Did he come to throw me? To kill me?' He wished he could see his brother again. He wished he could have been inside Rowena's legs.
"I'm sorry," he murmured. His vision blurred with tears.
"I should say the same to you..." Jae murmured, "They never told you what happened to your leg, did they?" he said mysteriously.
"No." Brandon clenched his teeth. He wanted to keep walking, he wanted one more chance to prove he was worthy, that the prince had not been wrong to take him in. His hand went to a bag he used to carry close to his chest. He felt the weight of five gold dragons.
"You will never walk properly again," said the prince in a flat voice.
Brandon lowered his head. He was going to retire in this painful way. Not dead with a sword in his hand, not protecting Jaehaerys, not protecting his daughter. Like a fucking cripple.
"Just joking, just joking!" the prince smiled as he patted him on the shoulder.
"What?"
"You'll be fine. It hit the bone, but it didn't break it. Once we get back to ArgentStone, Qyburn will heal you. He's better than anyone else," said Jaehaerys.
"Ahhh," Brandon was surprised by the prince's smile. It was happy and playful. He had rarely seen him like that.
"Good. Now. You and Tohrren will change your damn armor. I don't want useless people protecting my family," said Jaeaherys, his face serious again. "It will be black-steel, like my staff. We don't have Mikken, but one of the former slaves has been learning how to work it," he said as he stood up.
"Your daughter..."
"She's safe, Brandon, she's safe," the Manderly's bastard thought for a moment that they had replaced the prince. Where did that sweet voice come from?
"The Ironborn... what will happen to them?"
"What do you mean, Brandon?" The prince's smile returned to his face. "They are a plague... what do you think I would do with a plague?" asked the prince. The Ironborn had struck the wrong nest.
Brandon nodded. The prince never loved war or weapons. He was similar to Tohrren in that regard. But both of them could fight damn well. How Brandon envied them. He had to train day and night to keep up with people who didn't even care about fighting, they were just good at it.
"My prince," Brandon had never called him that in private. The only time he had done so was when the dragons were born.
"What are you doing?" Jaehaerys asked as he walked beside him.
Brandon knelt on the ground, his leg burning from the effort.
"To Rhaelle... I swear, I won't let anyone touch a hair on her head again," he promised, his eyes looking at the prince fervently.
"I know, Brandon, I know you," Jaehaerys said as he helped him lie down again.
"Don't tell Tohrren I kneeled again," Brandon asked from the bed.
"He'll be the first to know," Jae replied with a smile. "The new king has requested to meet with me, I have to go," he said goodbye. "Brandon, I'm glad you're alive," he said before leaving the room.
"Jaehaerys... those words... they sound like something a sword-swallower would say," he said as he listened to the prince's footsteps receding. His arms trembled. He wanted a sword soon. He wanted to fight again.
----------------------
"A new crown then, nephew?" Jaehaerys asked when he saw Rhaegar's son standing before him. He looked so much like his father, with a handsome face and a good physique. He was not a warrior, but he knew how to wield a sword. Jaehaerys wondered if he would be at the forefront of the battlefield.
"It seemed appropriate, uncle," he said familiarly, but he did not bother to feign a smile. "I want... a reign different from my father's and from any other king who has ever existed before," Aegon said firmly.
"All kings have wanted the same thing... they end up being too weak for it," said Jaehaerys.
And for a second he saw doubt flash in his nephew's eyes.
"And you... are you weak, Uncle?" asked Aegon.
"Everyone is. If you know where to strike, even the tallest tower will fall," replied Jaehaerys.
"Wise words", said the new king. "I was my father's Hand," Aegon looked at Jaehaerys' eyes. "The position is vacant now... I can't think of anyone better than you to fill it," he said, holding out a brooch.
Jaehaerys took it immediately. Without asking questions or refusing, he would be Hand.
"I am not interested in living in King's Landing. It's temporary," he said as he watched his nephew's eyes widen. Not even Aegon expected him to take the brooch. "Until the war is over," he added, and Aegon nodded.
"I am glad for it," said the young king, a smile almost escaping his lips.