Chapter Four: Brandon Stark
Brandon took a deep breath. The politics of the tournament were starting to weigh on his composure, and he had promised his father he would not lose control of his temper. The smell of sweat and horse mixed with the sweet scent of the fresh hay always did wonders for his nerves, and he decided he should check on his horse. The opening ceremonies would begin in a few hours, and he needed several moments of solitude before he must face the throngs of lords and ladies, not to mention his future bride. He hoped Catelyn would be a little warmer to him this time. The lady, though incredibly beautiful, was wound way too tight, and it made him slightly weary to be around her.
He reached his hands over the stall to pat his horse on the back. The horse had been born prematurely, and his father Lord Rickard had decided to put the tiny, sickly colt down, but Lyanna said the horse had a strong spirit and demanded she be allowed to care for it. She named the tiny horse Giant, to inspire him. She fed the horse a mush made of hay and cream, in addition to his mother's milk, and worked with the horse to build up his muscles and stamina. She would have slept in the stables, too, if her father had allowed it. For three months the lady wolf was rarely away from her precious little colt. Then one day at dinner, she casually told Brandon that the horse was his. When her father asked why she did not want the horse for herself, she replied that Giant wanted to be a destrier, and as long as her father insisted she be a lady, she would not be able to help the horse accomplish his dream. To humor his sister, Brandon had trained the horse, and Giant had more than lived up to his name. The chestnut stallion before him now was 17 hands of solid muscle and completely fearless. Though quite large for a destrier, the horse moved with a fluid movement and speed unmatched by any horse Brandon had seen. Although the stallion was friendly and obedient to him, Brandon always knew that the horse preferred Lyanna. Sometimes he would catch her practicing the joust with Giant, the two of them racing as a single stroke of lightning. His father should have put a stop to her unladylike hobbies, but with Lyanna you just had to pick your battles. Brandon wondered if that Baratheon boy knew what he was getting himself into. He seemed like a decent sort, and Ned loved him as a brother. Still, Brandon had his doubts. The boy was brave and strong, but he tended toward drink a little too much for Brandon's liking.
"My lord?" Brandon turned to find his squire Ethan standing in the doorway of the stables. The boy was almost as tall as he was, and that was saying something. He should probably knight him soon. Maybe he would after his wedding to the Tully girl.
"Yes, Ethan. What is it?"
"My lord, your father wishes to speak with you before the opening ceremonies."
"Yes, I suppose he does. Very well. You may tell him I shall meet him shortly."
Ethan made a quick bow and left. Brandon gave his horse a final pat and followed his squire from the tent.