“Save me? But I don’t need saving!” Lyanna protested, and then he spoke of the child growing in her womb. Pressing a hand protectively over her stomach, the she-wolf met her brother’s gaze with flint hard eyes.
“I will do no such thing! How dare you, my child isn’t some mistake to be hidden away and forgotten!”
Just how far had Rhaegar’s influence spread? Brandon couldn’t believe he for a while thought Rhaegar would have been a better king than his father after how he took his sister, defiled her…
“He took advantage of you, Lyanna. Kidnapped you. Would you want to carry a bastard into the world?” As much as he knew how Lyanna would love the child he also knew how the world looked down upon a woman with bastards rather than how it was with a man and his bastards.
“Dear sister please listen to me. We must leave.” Brandon didn’t know if the battle had truly started, if the tides had turned to favor one army or the other but he didn’t want to be here when it shifted for the worse.
The Tower of Joy was usually a peaceful place, if not a little lonely since Rhaegar had gone off to defend his crown. So when Lyanna heard the shouts of the guards below followed by the clash of swords, clutching her swollen belly, Lyanna grabbed a knife and waited, should the intruders should come in.
With shaking hands and bated breath, Lyanna held her little knife before her, she could hear the footfalls of someone coming up the stairs. But when the door burst open, Lyanna did not expect to see who the intruder was.
“Brandon! What are you doing here?”
“Coming to get you and save you from this place. Take you home.” Brandon growled as he stormed closer to Lyanna, noting her pregnant belly and had to rip his eyes from the sight, not masking the disgust at the idea of Rhaegar having had his way with his little sister.
“You’ll drink moon tea on the way home. Or give it up once we get home. Robert and Eddard are fighting for you. We’ll find you a better match than Robert. You’ll be safe again, I promise.” The eldest Stark moved to try to help Lyanna hoping she’d put the knife down.
There was a deep frown upon the raven haired woman’s forehead as she listened to the man’s words. “Maybe not, but you certainly have enough of an ego to fill an entire kingdom.”, Relena pointed out glancing at the knight from atop her horse. “And the person you claim to have saved me from is my own mother, that is hardly worth a song, especially since I could have left the keep on my own just as well.”
“I believe that tittle goes to Ser Bronn, Your Grace. Surely his ego is bigger than mine.” He refrained from making any improper comments though he did think of them and shook his head trying to rid the smirk that started to show before he mounted his own horse and made sure to ride beside her.
“Aye, this is true. It doesn’t warrant a song and I don’t think of myself as the kind of person to be written about in songs but you need protection, Your Grace. I don’t trust your mothers guards to protect you or any sellswords you could pay off, they couldn’t protect Tommen.” He couldn’t have either. He’d been blocked off in his attempt to try to go to the King and get him as he had heard and felt the explosion of wildfire from the Sept.
“You should be ruling. It should be you on that throne, not your mother. She has no right to it when Robert Baratheon’s ‘last’ heir died and his trueborn daughter and thus true heir is alive. An I mean to keep you alive even if it means at the cost of my own life.”
Jon scowls again, he doesn’t like the idea of his sister having to marry into someone else’s house -or the possibility of that house having control of Winterfell “Then Winterfell will go to her husband.” He mutters. “And we can’t have that can we?” It’s not really a question, he knows they can’t have that.
“I know what Lady Brienne said.” Jon sighs. “I’ve been trying not to get my hopes up she saw her several years ago now at this point. That could’ve changed.” He runs a hand through his hair. “I’m doing my best but unless there’s a legitimization I have no control over winterfell and I won’t attempt to take it. If you’re that insistent about – about ruining my brothers and sister’s chances at their rightful home at least do it right.”
Brandon was about to lose his temper with his nephew. “Winterfell will go to me before I let her husband take it.” Brandon snarled, pulling out his dagger and started to chip away at a nearby stick to get his frustration out. “Bran doesn’t seem he wants Lordship, which leads Sansa to lead House Stark for now.” He grumbled grumpily.
“I’m not that insistent on it but we need to start thinking ahead for your brothers and sister’s chances of this House surviving after all the shit it’s been through. Look, i’m not exactly adjusted to all of this either. I, the heir to my Lord father’s house, almost die, than exiled to Essos only to hear the news of my House and come back with no siblings and at least one dead nephew. I’m still trying to figure out my place in my home. You know the people, if they really wanted to, could name you King In The North as your brother once was and Sansa as Lady and you could co-rule together, King Snow and Lady…Princess Stark.”
Jon scowls again, he doesn’t like the idea of his sister having to marry into someone else’s house -or the possibility of that house having control of Winterfell “Then Winterfell will go to her husband.” He mutters. “And we can’t have that can we?” It’s not really a question, he knows they can’t have that.
“I know what Lady Brienne said.” Jon sighs. “I’ve been trying not to get my hopes up she saw her several years ago now at this point. That could’ve changed.” He runs a hand through his hair. “I’m doing my best but unless there’s a legitimization I have no control over winterfell and I won’t attempt to take it. If you’re that insistent about – about ruining my brothers and sister’s chances at their rightful home at least do it right.”
“No. Winterfell belongs to House Stark. Us.” Brandon knew that Jon wasn’t throwing around a question but he still felt like it would be answered. Brandon let out a hefty sigh as Jon spoke again and he curled his fists into a tight ball. “Ruining?” He let out a mix of a scoff and a chuckle. “They have Winterfell Jon. Sansa and Arya..you. Where ever and if he is still alive, Bran’s as well. But someone has to lead. Someone has to be Lord..nay, King in the North like your brother, Robb.”
Brandon laid a hand on Jon’s shoulder, trying to get closer to the young man. “I’m your Uncle, not your enemy, Jon. I want what’s best for you all and for our House. If that means Sansa takes over, she will. I have no doubt she would make a fine Lady or Queen of this house if you won’t take up the mantle as Eddard Stark’s son, bastard or not. It’s your home too. If neither of you will than I have no choice as the original heir and lord of Winterfell…” He broke off not wanting to finish his sentence as his hand fell from Jon and he looked away wishing he wasn’t here. He wasn’t the best with children, hell he was just a few years older than Jon before he almost…as he watched his own father die. He had little to no clue how to handle this children who were grown up, their own struggles that life had thrown at them.
❝I’ve been workin’ in this tavern for a long time ser. Never seen a man who fits that description.❞
Esmeralda slid the giant mug full of ale towards the man and only after would she wipe the sweat from her brow. The place was crowded tonight, but no doubt because some girls were offerin’ a bit more than just drinks. She would not though. As awful as her life had been as of late, there was no way she was throwing away her dignity.
“I see. Well, thank you anyways” Brandon told the woman who had slid the mug towards him before he took a large gulp of it. Tracking down this man was going to be harder than he had anticipated and he would need more gold soon if he was going to survive in Essos as a sellsword and he made a face as he tried to think of where the contract might have been.
His eyes flickered every now and than to the girls and the customers they were serving before they settled on the woman in front of him, she was no doubt a beauty but there seemed to be more than just that to her. “Tell me, do you have any free rooms for the night my lady? It doesn’t have to be the most comfortable if you don’t have much”
“No. I can’t say I have heard of any not taking the position”
“But now…some days I wished i had refused. King Robert isn’t quite what he used to be. Plus, I miss a womans touch.” He gave a smile as he shook his head remembering he was in the presence of a lady. “Forgive me Lady Frey that was ill-mannered of me.”
Goldnwulf 