Bran
"Hodor."
"I'm not hungry," Bran said, barely glancing at the bowl that Hodor was holding out for him.
"You haven't eaten anything since last night," Osha complained, stirring her own stew. "And what little you did eat would barely have fed the bird we used to make this."
"I'm fine," Bran said. "The Three-Eyed Raven says that true Greenseers are able to fast for weeks, feeding off of the knowledge they gain journeying through the weirwood."
"And the Three-Eyed Raven also has a root growing up his ass!" Osha snapped, finally losing her patience. "Ya want me ta shove one up there for ya, since he seems ta know best?"
Meera reached over and placed a hand on Osha's knee, causing the older woman to still. "Bran," she said gently, in a softer voice, "we are just concerned."
"I am doing what I must do," Bran said stubbornly, looking over at Jojen. "Correct?"
Jojen considered him for a long moment.
He'd never taken that long in defending him and his actions.
"Correct?"
When Jojen spoke it was with a tone Bran hadn't heard ever come from his lips. A sense of… indecision.
"You can not rush what will happen," Jojen stated, never bothering to look up at him. Every other time they'd had this argument Jojen had held his gaze with his soft, watery eyes, and refused to break the stare until he was sure that Bran knew he was behind him 100%. "You can't force the sun to rise sooner or the clouds to move swifter. All you do is hurt yourself… and perhaps keep yourself from achieving your destiny." He then looked to the bowl and Bran scowled, feeling utterly betrayed.
But still, he took the soup from Hodor who smiled and nodded rapidly, handing over a carved spoon. Bran dipped it into the clear colored liquid and brought it to his lips… and nearly spat out the mouthful.
"Are you okay?" Meera asked.
Bran nodded, face twisting as he struggled to overcome the overload of senses. "Just… wasn't expecting it to be that spicy."
"…we put no spice in it, little lord," Osha told him, sharing a look with Meera. "It is just water and the bird we found."
He frowned at that, trying again. And while he didn't gag like he had before it felt like his tongue was on fire and his mind was spinning. He couldn't describe how the soup tasted just that it was overwhelming. 'And they say there is no spice in this? No seasoning? How can that be when I can barely manage a mouthful at a time?'
The others were watching him and he suddenly remembered what it had been like when he'd first awoken after falling from the Broken Tower. How everyone had seemed to find a reason to check in on him yet at the same time had tried to do all they could to not make it obvious they were staring at him. It was utterly frustrating, the sense that one was being gawked at, and Bran valiantly took another mouthful of soup, willing his face to remain impassive as he ate it even if his tongue rebelled against the flavor. It was just so strong and he tried to remember when he'd last tasted something so powerful…
…and found he couldn't even really remember the last thing he'd eaten.
He knew he had eaten within recent memory but it was never that much and it was also tiny little bites. The Three-Eyed Raven had said that things such as hunger and thirst were weaknesses of the body and that a true greenseer could move beyond such things. The Three-Eyed Raven stated he had not let food touch his lips for decades and that had allowed him to have his mind clouded by anything but the history of the world. Bran was desperate to prove that the man hadn't been mistaken in selecting him-
"Bran?" Pine Bark, one of the children, said suddenly.
"By the Gods!" Osha exclaimed. "I am going to put a bell on all you Children!" She jabbed a finger at the small Child of the Forest.
For her… his… it was impossible to tell… part the Child merely stared at Osha before looking once more at Bran. "The Three-Eyed Raven wishes to speak with you."
"He's eating," Osha said darkly.
"The Three-Eyed Raven wishes to speak with him."
"Oh, am I now losin' me ability to speak? Or you ya hearin'?" Osha challenged, glaring at the child. "You must be… I said he was eatin'."
"Osha," Bran said but for once the older woman didn't back down.
"Ya know, we were always told that the Children of the Forest were kind and noble folk… that it was man who was cruel. Drivin' 'em from their homes, refusin' ta understand these lands and breakin' the treaties the trees made. But now I'm seein' that is utter shit."
"It is important for Bran to do this," Pine Bark stated. "He must be ready for when the Great Enemy arises."
"And how will he be ready if he is dead?" Osha demanded, jabbing her spoon at Pine Bark. "He ain't eatin'. He can't sleep because you wake him up at all hours… don't think I've noticed ya sneakin' in with messages from that rooty bastard. How ya suddenly MUST see'em when he has just settled down ta rest."
"Sacrifices must be made," Pine Bark said, never raising their voice.
"And what sacrifices have ya been makin'?"
THAT caused the normally demur and quiet Child to narrow their eyes. "We have sacrificed far more than you will ever know, human."
Bran set the bowl of soup down on the ground. "It is fine… as I said I wasn't hungry anyway."
But as Hodor got up to assist him Meera stared at Pine Bark, gaze not exactly hard but… calculating. It reminded him of how Jon would look at someone in the yard just before he suddenly attacked them with a flurry of swings that left them utterly on the backfoot and scrambling. It was the look that Robb had held as he had discussed who to place in charge of which battalions of men as he'd prepared to march South. It was the look that Theon had always gotten when, instead of snapping off a quip from the top of his head he actually stopped and considered his opponent; whenever he did that Bran had always found himself marveling at how vicious his barbs could get.
"You sacrificed much, didn't you?" Meera finally said. "And yet much like your best efforts it didn't matter. Thanos still lives… one of your own number, isn't he? That's what you admitted to us. The Mad Titan… a cousin of yours that you have failed to defeat. So now you rely upon a child to fight your battles while the 'powerful' Children are reduced to messengers for a half-dead man."
Bran winced at the comment, looking at Pine Bark… who merely stared at her before turning and walking out of the room.
He didn't know if that meant Meera had hit her mark or not.
It felt like it took far quicker to get into the main chamber of the Three-Eyed Raven that it ever did to leave from it. 'Perhaps it is because I am so tired that the walk feels so long,' Bran though but he didn't believe that to be the case. 'There is magic here… I can feel it like the wind against my face on a warm day. Perhaps the weirwood makes the path shorter because it knows I need to get to these lessons… but why make the path longer when I am leaving? Because I'm not supposed to? Or perhaps there is a price to pay to make the path short and I must see the debt settled when I leave?'
He didn't know and he didn't want to ask the Three-Eyed Raven. He was already doing so much for him and he didn't want upset him by asking foolish questions.
"Good of you to arrive at last," the Three-Eyed Raven said, motioning with a withered hand to the spot next to him that had become 'Bran's Seat'. "Come… we have little time to waste now."
"There were some disagreements," Pine Bark stated.
"Hodor."
Bran just caught Pine Bark suddenly freeze up, the light dimming from their eyes for a moment before they hurried out of the room. He didn't have time to wonder why they had suddenly paused like that as Hodor set him down, taking a moment to check him over before smiling and hurrying off as quickly as he could.
"I am sorry for the delay-"
"It is fine," The Three-Eyed Raven said with a tired half smile. "You had things you needed to do, obviously."
"Maester Luwin used to say that whenever I was late for my lessons with him."
"Hmmm…" was all the Three-Eyed Raven said before he reached out and stroked one of the roots of the weirdwood. "Now then… I believe it is time we journeyed into the past once more."
"What are we going to see?" Bran asked, shifting to try and get more comfortable. "The founding of Winterfell? The drowning of the Neck?"
"Ah, not quite that far," the Three-Eyed Raven stated with a shake of his head. "Something a bit more easy. And a familiar path."
Bran nodded. 'I want to see so much… but I can't be selfish. The Others are coming and if I want to be able to help my family I must do what I can to stop them.' He looked to the Three-Eyed Raven. 'He has lived for so long… well beyond the years a mortal man is normally given. If we can beat back Thanos I will have decades to explore the past. To learn of the heroes of legend and what secrets they took to their graves. It is selfish of me to attempt to steal away moments just to satisfy my own curiosity.'
So Bran touched the weirwood branch and felt himself falling into the great network of roots, traveling far, far, far from the North… and blinking in confusion when he realized he was once more back in the hidden storeroom of the Red Keep, with the pendant that had been crafted from the heartstree that had once stood in the Capital that was hacked down on the command of Baelor the Blessed.
He only had a moment to wonder why they were once more looking at the events that had occurred in the Red Keep, so far away from the threat they faced, when he found himself pulled down once more, traveling not in distance but years until he found himself standing beside the Three-Eyed Raven. The godswood of the Red Keep was once more around them but he could tell at once that they were older, with the trees far taller, reaching up into the sky. Yet the godswood wasn't wild and untamed; no, in fact they seemed far more maintained than when he had visited before. He could see that rather than a path created by the treading of hundreds of feet over many years there was now dirt that had been carefully packed down with a border of soft grass on either side, though he could only see a bit of it for there was snow on the ground while ice clung to the branches of the trees like the bangles and bracelets that Sansa used to wear.
Stretching out his senses he realized that more dirt had been added to the godswood, allowing the trees to keep their roots hidden, and all manner of new plants and animals had been introduced to the spot of green in the stone city. Squirrels, birds… there was even a small pond now with fish though with the winter upon them the fish would sleep until spring. While not as alive as the godswood of Winterfell or the Haunted Forest that Bran had journeyed through to reach the heartstree of the Three-Eyed Raven the godswood of the Red Keep felt healthier than it had before, even in winter.
Rather than the soft light of day that had bathed the godswood the last time Bran had been there now he found himself standing in moonlight, the sky above him a beautiful swirl of stars and lights. He found it a touch odd that his breath did not come out in little puffs as it did back home even during the Summer but he realized that was foolish for he wasn't actually there. Wasn't actually breathing the air of the godswood. All of it was just a memory of the trees. And they did not breathe.
'Do they think it odd that we breathe?' he thought. 'Do they wonder why little clouds escape our lips on cold days? Or do they not wonder about us at all, much like we do not wonder about them? Perhaps trees have complex lives, no different than us. Their own Game of Thrones, where they compete to see who is king of the forest, which is allowed to grow tall and old and strong and which must wait their turn.'
Looking to his left he saw a young man, maybe a few years older than Theon, sitting on a small bench looking over a long sword made of rippling metal that seemed to take the starlight hung above them and turn it into the wavering flames of a hearth. Bran felt a sense of… wrongness… staring at the man before him. He was so used to seeing his father in such a position; even though he wasn't supposed to bother his father when he was in the godswood, communing with the Old Gods, he had often, when he was young, fled from his nursemaid and made for the comforts of the godswood where he had first discovered his love of climbing. His father had often pretended he didn't notice Bran, though now he knew he must have given away many times he was there with his giggles, but whenever he was done he would find Bran and pluck him from the branches like he was an apple.
But seeing the man there, with his silver hair and lilac eyes, dressed in fine clothing (though admittedly well furred and padded to keep him warm in the cold air) made Bran want to rush him and scream that he didn't belong there. That he was disgracing his father by being there, despite the fact that as far as Bran knew his father had never felt the need to seek comfort in the Godswood of the Red Keep.
"Who is that man?" Bran asked the Three-Eyed Raven.
"That would be King Jaehaerys Targaryen, First of his Name."
"That… that is the Old King?!" Bran exclaimed.
To that the Three-Eyed Raven chuckled, patting Bran on the shoulder. "All men were once young, Bran. They were once babes that were swaddled and carried. Boys who could barely lift up a wooden sword, let alone one of steel. Young men who dreamed of grand adventures and buxom lasses before settling into married life. Just as all the young will grow old. Infants you saw in Winterfell will become old men with bent backs and gummy mouths, the years leaving them wrinkled and spotted and scarred."
And then he laughed though Bran didn't know what the joke was. But he blushed all the same, ashamed at his foolishness.
"Your grace," an old man, maybe one of the oldest men Bran had ever seen (after the Three-Eyed Raven but could he be considered a man? Hadn't he said that the Three-Eyed Raven was something far more?), stated as he emerged from the shadows of the trees. He wore the white cloak of the kingsguard but his armor wasn't as gilded as he would have expected. Instead his armor was scratched and there was a dent upon the left shoulder guard. Underneath was warm practical gear that was so unlike all the images he'd seen in Maester Luwin's books, the ones that made him long to join the ranks of the Kingsguard as the first Stark to ever wear a white cloak. The man, with his bald head, single eye, and lacked nearly all the teeth in his mouth, looked more like an old stable hand or floor sweep than a knight.
"Yes, Samgood?" Jaehaerys said.
'Sour Sam,' Bran realized. 'Oldest man to ever be elected to the Kingsguard. But he won his cloak in battle and he was one of the teachers that ensured that the boy king had been a master of the sword'
"Would it not be wise to return inside?" Sour Sam stated. "It is rather late and it grows colder…"
"Has it?" Jaehaerys asked, scuffing his foot against the snow.
The knight merely shot the young king a dark look. "Your grace… you are still young enough for me to take you over my knee."
Bran was shocked by the comment and more so by Jaehaerys' laughter. "I wasn't aware you desired such things, Samgood!"
"Cheeky brat," Sour Sam growled.
The Three-Eyed Raven leaned in close. "Jaehaerys has almost no memories of his father. Sour Sam could never replace Aenys but he did serve well as a loving uncle that taught his grace many of the things a father would. Jaehaerys had no knowledge of how to please a woman… his first time with Alysanne was awkward and fumbling despite the tales that are sung of them. Sam was the one who dragged the embarrassed king into a private room and taught him with pillows and japes how to make a woman scream."
"Why would you want to make a woman scream?" Bran asked, nose crinkling in disgust at the idea of ever being with a woman. That was part of the reason he wanted to be in the kingsguard!
The Three-Eyed Raven chuckled again.
"Your grace," Sour Sam tried again, "it would do no good if you grew ill. There has been enough misery these last few days…"
"I know," Jaehaerys said softly, his jovial mood from moments earlier disappearing completely, leaving him solemn. He looked to the sky and sighed. "But we will be having a guest soon, Samgood… and I think it better for Alysanne and the children not be witness to what is about to come." He paused. "Samgood… no matter what happens… you must not protect me."
"Your grace, I will never make that promise."
"I command it," Jaehaerys said firmly.
"Fuck you, your grace," Sour Sam snapped. "I am yours to command but I will not break my oaths. To protect the innocent. The young. The women and children of Westeros. And-" he jabbed a finger at the greatest king Westeros had ever had, "-protect my king."
Jaehaerys stared at Sour Sam for a long moment before letting out a sigh. "I fear this is a foe even you can not defeat."
Before Samgood could say a word Bran heard the most horrible sound ever. He had never heard it before, in fact there was no living being, perhaps for the Children of the Forest and even that that was questionable considering where they lived, who had heard the noise. A terrible, awful, nightmarish sound that filling Bran at once with a dread that had him wanting to flee, despite knowing he was only in a memory.
The roar… of a dragon.
Upon one of the battlements that surrounded the Red Keep landed a large pale blue monster, the moonlight dancing along the silver crest upon its head and the speckles of silver on its scales. The dragon flared its wings and let out another shrieking roar that had Bran clamping his hands over his ears and ducking.
"It can not hurt you," the Three-Eyed Raven stated and once more Bran felt ashamed for showing such weakness. It was a memory… he had to remember that.
Bran looked back at King Jaehaerys but he didn't seemed fazed at all. 'And of course he wouldn't be… he is a dragonrider and has known dragons all his life. This one would not terrify him.'
"Dreamfyre," The Three-Eyed Raven stated. "It is said that dragons seem to pass on traits of their precious riders to their new ones. If so then she passed on sorrow and grief to her second rider, for her first suffered much in her long life."
'Dreamfyre,' Bran thought, trying to remember Maester Luwin's lessons on the Targaryen Dragons. He and his brothers and sisters weren't supposed to learn about the beasts, for they were hated by King Robert and he had been like a brother to their Lord Father, but all had begged for stories of them. 'She was born during the reign of Aenys Targaryen. Her rider was…'
"JAEHAERYS!"
Dreamfyre lowered her neck, allowing her rider to descend. She had 10 years on The Conciliator and while there was a beauty to her there was also clearly a great sadness. It was as the Three-Eyed Raven had said, Bran could tell at once: she had lived a long and sorrowful life already and Bran could tell that she would have far more.
"Sister," Jaehaerys said as Princess Rhaena Targaryen, daughter of Aenys the First, Black Bride of Maegor, Princess of Dragonstone, and future Lady of Harrenhal, marched towards him in a black fury. Sour Sam stepped forward but Princess Rhaena glared at him, eyes narrowed and nostrils flared.
"Unless you mean to draw that sword, Samgood, you will remove your hand from its pommel," she snapped and the kingsguard member stared at her for a long moment before taking a step back, his hand dropping to his side. "You can go. I would have words with my brother."
"I will not, your grace," he told the princess.
"It is fine," Jaehaerys stated, holding up his hand. "I do not mind if Samgood hears you curse me out. I deserve it." He dropped his head. "I was too lax with her. I should have been more careful… should have kept a closer watch on her. Let her know that her position was assured." He shook his head. "She would never have been Queen… I do not think any would have accepted a queen who had 10 years on her king and Aerea would not have been pleased waiting for Aemon to come of age but something would have been found for her. I would have allowed her Dragonstone or her choice of castles. I would have-"
"I do not care of things that did not occur," Rhaena declared, cutting her brother off. "I care for my daughter." She took a step forward, glaring at the king. "I have been informed by our sister that you already had her burned."
"I could not wait for you to arrive," Jaehaerys said softly. "You would not have wished to see her like that."
"I am her mother…"
"Rhaena," Jaehaerys said, cutting her off. "I did not do it out of cruelty. I did not do it because I thought you too weak. I wish to the Seven Heavens I had not seen her that way. I wish none had seen her that way. Please do not force me to describe how she suffered. Remember her as she was… that is something I will never have again." He closed his eyes and grimaced. "What happened in the Maester's chambers… that nightmare will haunt me till my dying day."
"What happened to her?" Bran asked.
The Three-Eyed Raven considered Bran for a long moment. "One day, perhaps, I will show you."
He didn't know quite how to feel about that.
Rhaena glowered at her brother all the same. "She should have come to me. I am her mother… why did she not come to me?" Though she had been trained to maintain her anger by the end her words held a hint of desperation leaked out as she tried to understand just what had happened and how they had ended up in the situation they were in. "She flew back here… to you." Bitterness now coated her words. "You were always the one she long to be with."
"She returned to King's Landing, not me," Jaehaerys informed her. "Had our lots in life been reversed it would have been you who saw her. It was the city that attracted her, not me."
But Rhaena's eyes flashed at that. "Had our lots been reversed… yes, how strange it is that we find ourselves in such a position. I should have been queen… I am our father's eldest child now. But the people rejected me. I should have been queen because I was married to Aegon… but the people hated him and scorned us both while they have loved you and Alysanne." She said the final name with such scorn that Bran felt, even though he wasn't the target of her ire, that he had been physically struck.
It was that same scorn that had Jaehaerys' own eyes flashing. "You will watch your tone, sister. I love you but I would not let anyone besmirch her name."
Rhaena let out a laugh at that. "Of course…everyone must respect Alysanne. Perfect little Alysanne who has never known grief or pain." She narrowed her eyes, twisting her hand in an odd motion. "I have lost two of my children… for taking what is mine she should lose five times that amount. I would say Seven-"
Jaehaerys took a step forward and Bran suddenly became aware that he was still holding his sword. 'Blackfire,' he realized with a shock. 'He is holding Blackfire.' And on his hip was Dark Sister… it was like he had walked into one of Old Nan's stories! He knew that he was supposed to be mature about such things, that the Three-Eyed Raven was showing him important things… but he was staring at Jaehaerys the Wise, the greatest of the Kings of Westeros, with the two most famous swords in history within his reach!
"I would think very carefully before you curse my children, Rhaena," Jaehaerys said darkly. "We have lost much, all of us… but what has occurred today has put me in a black mood. And none would be surprised if your grief led you to end your life to be rejoined with your daughter."
Rhaena though smiled darkly at that. "And there it is… people love to speak of our Uncle and his darkness… but they forget that Maegor merely allowed the darkness that is all of us Targaryens to more quickly show. We are a cruel people, after all. Blood of the Conqueror."
And quick as a flash she pulled a sword that Bran hadn't even realized she was carrying out and rushed the King, Sour Sam not even having time to draw his blade before she swung at her brother's head.
Jaehaerys caught the blow not even with Blackfire but by grasping her wrist with his free hand, forcing her to halt. But Rhaena suddenly produced a knife and slashed at him, forcing the king to dart back, releasing her arm. Once more Rhaena swung her blade down at him and this time Jaehaerys used Blackfire to intercept, twisting the blow away as the two siblings began their duel.
"Stay out of this!" Rhaena snarled when Sour Sam drew his blade. "This is just how Targaryens say 'I love you'!"
"It is fine Samgood!" Jaehaerys declared. "She will not hurt me."
The Kingsguard knight frowned at that and while he made no move to join in the battle he never sheathed his sword.
"Was it the timing?" Rhaena said, panting a bit as her and her brother moved about the godswood. "Or was it because of how old we were? You were young so you and Alysanne were first seen as a childish rebellion…"
"It was father," Jaehaerys replied as he met her blow for blow, never once pushing the attack and working just to defend. "He was a weak king. The people of Westeros still remember when they ruled themselves and saw a chance to tear him down through you and Aegon."
"Why side with Maegor though?!" Rhaena snarled.
"Because they also want to be dominated," Jaehaerys stated. "Had our roles been reversed-"
"No, Aegon would never have been supported like you. He was a foolish boy." She suddenly lashed out, forcing Jaehaerys to fall back, but that allowed her to slam into him, pressing their bodies against the Heartstree. "Father should have married me to you."
"Rhaena," Jaehaerys whispered and Bran found himself moving closer so he might hear.
"Aegon the Conqueror had two wives: the younger was the beauty that charmed the world. The older was his warrior queen and sorceress." She leaned in close, teeth grabbing onto his earlobe and tugging on it. As she did so she dropped her sword and reached down with her now freed hand to slide her fingers into his pants. "You loved Aerea like a father… Aegon never got to see his children but you did and you loved Aerea… she should have been yours, Jaehaerys… as I should be yours…"
Jaehaerys shut his eyes and took a long breath. "Rhaena… this is your grief talking."
"Yeessssss," she hissed out. "My grief that I never get what I want… and you are going to give it to me, Jaehaerys." Bran saw her hand move in Jaehaerys pants and moved to turn away only for the Three-Eyed Raven to grab his shoulders and force him to remain in place, watching. Hitching her skirt up Rhaena pressed herself against the king, Bran watching in morbid dread and fascination as she began to grind her hips against him. While Bran had never seen the act of sex, let alone engaged in it, even with his limited knowledge he know what was happening and he felt utterly wrong watching what was occurring before him. Not even that he was watching something that was supposed to be private… but more that he knew this was WRONG. "You will give me back my child… Aerea will return to us." She shifted and hissed as she suddenly pressed herself against him, legs bowed. "And this time we will make sure she is ready for her destiny. Our destiny."
Jaehaerys, for a brief moment, looked to be lost in the act. His eyes shut and his jaw clenched suddenly and Rhaena gasped. But then Sour Sam took a step forward and Jaehaerys came out of his daze and he grabbed Rhaena by the throat, pushing her away. But in the same motion Rhaena brought her knife to his throat and Samgood pointed his blade right at her.
"Part of you loves this. I can tell." The grieving mother smirked as she lightly pressed the knife to Jaehaerys's throat, a small bead of blood slowly oozing from his skin and along the sharp edge. "The danger. It is so enticing, isn't it?" She moved the blade suddenly to her neck and for a terrible moment Bran was sure that she would slit her own throat. But instead she lightly pressed it to her own tender flesh, causing her own blood to join with Jaehaerys'. "Fire and Blood… we remember the first but never the second. That's what you crave." A dark smile, sharp like a wolf's, like her own dragon's snarl, flashed across her lips. "I have been with three men. Aegon did his duty but he was so unsure of himself. Androw couldn't spill his seed in my belly… I much preferred his sister before she betrayed me. But I will tell you this, brother, and only to you: for as much as the singers claim I fought Maegor out of hatred… I still gushed on his cock." She lifted the knife up for him to see their mingling blood. "I doubt tender Alysanne-"
That was her mistake.
The moment she said the Queen's name Jaehaerys threw her off, hurriedly tucking his cock back into his pants. But Rhaena merely reached down and, must to Bran's disgust, ran her fingers along her nethers, gathering up their combined fluids and adding them to the blood on the knife.
"You should die for what you have done," Jaehaerys snapped.
"But you won't do it," Rhaena taunted. "Because despite how much you will claim otherwise… you will dream of that coupling and wonder what might have been if you had agreed to my offer." Rhaena rose up. "But no matter… I have what I need."
She made for her dragon again when Jaehaerys spoke up. "I have already had it moved."
Rhaena paused. "…what?"
"Did you think me a fool, sister? You are many things but this brash and bold? You hid your times with your bedwarmers, so that even I had difficulty learning of your tastes in both men and women. I learned of it though… I know your preferences. You can stand to be with a man, that is true, but this little show is far too much for you. Too daring. Too risky. Unless it was all smoke and mirrors. A mummur's farce to keep me from seeing the truth." His lip twitched, it clear that he wanted to sneer but was forcing himself not to. "I can smell the Moon Tea on your breath." He shook his head. "I had already predicted what you would do as I burned Aerea."
"I don't-"
The king continued. "It wasn't enough to use the standard ingredients. You sought to use something special. Blood of a king and a princess. Salt from royal seed. And I imagine Ironwood shavings that you gained from some blessed statue." He took a step forward. "Samgood already saw our father's armor moved, along with that of Maegor's. And you will never find them."
Rhaena turned and Bran saw the lust gone from her eyes. Now there was only a fury, black and burning. "You took the armors-"
"Yes," Jaehaerys stated. "You were mad to even think of putting Aerea in the Ultron Armor… it was cursed the moment our uncle crafted it. To place a soul in it is to doom that spirit to eventual madness. And as for the other… there is a reason our father never placed himself within it and Aerea would never take to being put in that masculine form."
To that Rhaena let out a bitter laugh. "For the man who stole her from me you do not know her. Aerea would have been thrilled to be born a boy, with a cock between her legs and the freedom that brings. Or… should I say Rhaella."
"Watch what you say-"
"You stole their names, just as you stole them from me. And now you steal my chance to bring her back-"
"What you want to do is monstrous, Rhaena, and I won't allow it to come to pass. Samgood has moved the armor."
"Where?' Rhaena demanded.
"To the North," Jaehaerys declared, much to Bran's own surprise. "The Starks are the most honorable of all the lords of Westeros. I have commanded them until the last of both our lines are dust that they are to prevent any from using the armor." Rhaena moved once more towards Dreamfyre. "They will never tell you and if you attack them you will be hunted. And I promise you that your death will not be quick. I will give up the entire treasury to the one that surrenders you to me. I will make my bounty for the dragon eggs you let slip from your grasp look like the coin beggars collect." He shook his head. "Go back to Dragonstone, sister. Or some other castle. But do not dare cross The Neck. I promise you will regret it."
Rhaena whipped around and jabbed a finger at Jaehaerys. "And I promise I will never forgive you for this." She shot a dark look at Sour Sam and muttered something low under her breath, Bran unable to understand the words. "And as for you brother… a time will come when you will regret your command. When you will lose someone closest to you and you wish that you had not removed this option as you have removed it from me. And know my spirit will be laughing at you and your misery!"
And with that Rhaena climbed back onto her dragon and took off.
"…that wasn't the command you told me to give the Starks, your grace," Sour Sam said, finally sheathing his sword.
"Do not speak of the dreams I have had… we do not know who may be listening."
And then Jaehaerys turned and looked right at Bran.
There was a sudden pulling sensation and Bran found himself once more in his body, blinking in confusion as he shifting up a bit against the roots of the tree.
"The command…" The Three-Eyed Raven whispered.
"What lesson did you wish for me to learn from that?" Bran asked.
"Hmmm?" the Three-Eyed Raven said before managing a smile. "If you can not figure that out on your own…"
He trailed off and Bran was left to sit there, wondering if that truly had been an answer.