A Regretful Brother

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Jaehaerys.

Jae felt the power in the animal as it let out a slow, deep, rumbling from its serpentine throat. And then, as he ran his hand along blood-red scales, he felt the warmth beneath them and the magic in the blood that flowed within himself and the Blood Wyrm, for that was the only dragon this one could be. Caraxes, the dragon that ended the monstrous Vhagar.

Jae stumbled slightly as Caraxes moved his enormous neck, pressing his head into Jae's chest and staring at him through a milky-white eye. 'He sees me,' he realised, and the dragon gave a throaty growl. 'Not Daemon, but me... and he cares not.' He knew he was seeing the Rogue Prince's memory because only Daemon Targaryen had both bore the Valyrian blade of Visenya and rode the Blood Wyrm.

He pressed his forehead against Caraxes's jaw, calming the dragon as a woman with silver hair approached, flanked by four men in black ringmail with long, dyed-gold woollen cloaks draped over their shoulders. "Have you found them yet?" He questioned, not bothering to take his eyes off the dragon. And when she nodded, Jae motioned her closer.

"I heard tales of a Sea Lord trying to hatch dragons," she said, and Jae scoffed. Then, he grabbed her by the hand and pressed it against the dragon's jaw. The woman smiled as Caraxes warbled, both content and alert by the touch. "The building burnt to the ground, and the eggs were gone the following day, along with a ship named the Sun Chaser."

"So the old bitch is still kicking?" Said Jae, rage building in his tone. "My grandfather should have burnt Braavos to the ground. Alas, the Old King was weak regarding his wife."

It was said that the Conciliator had mounted his dragon Vermithor, dead set on burning Braavos to ashes instead of risking a dragonlord who was not a Targaryen rising to power, and only when his wife Alysanne had talked him down did he come up with a better, less "Maegor-y" plan. However, Jae agreed with Daemon's thinking; it would have been better to eliminate any chance of dragons not bound to House Targaryen from arising, even if that meant violent measures ought to be taken.

As he mounted Caraxes with the silver-haired woman, a thought crossed his mind: 'Are the eggs still out there?' If they were, he would scour the Known world to return them to his family, but they weren't his to hatch, he knew; his bonded was already waiting for him in some hidden location—Aegon had not told him much, only to "Wake him from Stone."

The high-pitched, hiss-like roar broke him from his thoughts, and he looked around. Kings landing was below him; the people in the streets looked like ants when so high up, and he felt a smirk spread across his lips as the woman slid her hand into his britches.

—————

[The camp by the river 298 AC]

Jae was shaken rudely from the dream or vision; he still didn't know what they were, even after a few days of having them. Then, finally, after a few more harsh shoves, Jae's eyes fluttered open; the morning dew smelt sweet as he yawned. He sat up, looked at Brynden, and saw the boy rubbing his eyes; he believed he knew precisely what had happened.

"What was it this time?" Jae asked softly; he scratched the stubble on his cheek, wondering when he would have a chance to shave again. "Wolves? You know Ghost won't let them get too close."

Brynden shook his head, bushy brown hair covering the sword-like birthmark across his right eye. "A raven," he said, and Jae was fully awake then. "It wouldn't stop squawking and screeching all night long. I swear, I'll strangle the evil thing."

Jae nodded as he stood, walking calmly to his saddle over a collapsed tree, but he was anything but inside. "Where's the bird? Don't look right at it. Use your peripherals." He knocked an arrow before reaching into the saddle bag to pull out a piece of dried meat. After ripping a chunk off, Jae grabbed the grip of his bow tightly.

Confused as he was, Brynden did as told. "In the tree to the right, maybe ten or twelve feet up. Why?"

Quickly, Jae spun around and drew the string, the bird cawed, but the arrow was flying before it could take flight. Ghost leapt from his respite, ran, and caught the bird before it hit the earth. The wolf returned it to him, and Jae removed the arrow, letting Ghost have the meat as a reward.

"How long has that bird been following us? Do you know?" Brynden shook his head, confused, and Jae sighed. He glared at the tree, whistled, and Winter looked up from the grass. "Seems he's realised. Come on, pack your things. You see a raven, you tell me, alright?"

Brynden was even more confused. "What are you talking about? Who are you talking about, and why did you shoot the raven?"

Jae strapped the saddle on Winter, the horse neighing almost angrily as he stomped his hoof. "An uncle of mine, many times removed, he's watching me through the ravens. Do you know what a greenseer is?"

Brynden stuffed his dagger into his pants, looked at Jae, and cocked his head to the right. "My mother told me about them; they all went beyond the Wall, but I never believed the stories much."

"All stories told stem from the truth," said Jae, mounting Winter. He pulled Brynden up behind him, and they were off, Ghost padding beside them, blood staining his snout as his eyes flickered between the trees. "This uncle of mine is one of the most powerful seers in history, like as not." Jae knew Brynden needed some more convincing, but that could wait until they arrived at their destination.

—————

[Castle Cerwyn the day after Jae left 298 AC]

Robb.

For a whole day, he had been riding, tracking Jon down with the help of Grey Wind and a party of Stark guards, including both Hallis and Jacks, as the two had adamantly refused to stay in Winterfell when they could instead be helping in the search. Robb wondered when the two men had become such good friends with his brother and realised he barely knew Jon, not truly, unlike how a brother should know another.

That realisation made his already sour mood even worse, so now, as they walked through the small town around Castle Cerwyn, he was tired, sore, angry, and ashamed instead of only tired and sore. Then, as he commanded the men to ask about Jon Snow, Robb noticed Theon being more withdrawn than ever.

Perhaps the things he had said that morning were harsh in his anger, but Robb would not apologise for defending his brother; it was the least he could do after not being a worthy brother to Jon over the last, what was it now, a decade? Robb frowned at the thought, cursing inwardly.

"It's a boy's tantrum, is what it is," Theon had said as they prepared to mount up and continue the search. "Gods, these flies! Snow will return sooner or later; he cannot survive alone. You know it as well as I do."

Robb shoved his finger into the Ironborn's chest, glaring at the slightly shorter, older boy. "Do not presume to think you know anything of my brother, Greyjoy," he said, almost snarling. "My lady mother treats you, a glorified prisoner, better than the boy her children name their brother."

"A brother, is he?" Theon smirked wryly, but Robb saw the hurt in his eyes at being called what he knew he was. "Would a good and true brother abandon his family, leave three of his precious siblings wailing through the night?"

Robb saw red as he grabbed the Ironborn by his tunic collar and brought their faces so close their noses nearly touched. He glared scornfully into nervous black eyes, but the Stark prisoner knew not to keep his mouth shut and spoke again, "No real man would do such a thing, forsaking his kin so needlessly."

"Hold your tongue, Greyjoy, or the crows will feast on squid before noon," Robb said, barely a whisper. Theon swallowed heavily, glanced around, and saw the same look that Robb wore in a few of the guards' eyes. "Jon snow is ten times the man you wish you were. You best remember that."

Robb was brought back to the now when Hallis called out to him. "Lady Jonelle is closing in on us, Robb. Might be she knows where Jon is off to." He picked at the scar that ran down the right side of his neck, from jaw to collarbone, and yawned.

Hallis had barely slept, saying the scar had been itching for a while before Jon's disappearance and only worsened afterwards; even maester Luwin could do nothing but give him some ointments to lather it in each morn, noon, and evening. Shaking his head, Robb looked on as Jonelle crossed the market, motioning for a group of children trying to sneak up on Grey Wind to be quieter, or the wolf would hear them.

The dark youth of eighteen smiled as they met halfway, though Robb could not help but notice that it was far less genuine than what she gave Jon whenever she came to Winterfell for a visit. Then, she bobbed a curtsy to him and greeted politely, "Hello, Robb. What did I do to deserve two wolves seeking me out within the same week?"

Robb rewarded her with a half smile. "Hello, Jonelle," he greeted in turn. "I take it Jon was here. Did you happen to meet with him?"

"Yes, I did, in fact," she admitted, smiling a little more genuinely, but a moment later, she frowned. "You didn't know Jon was coming?"

Robb shook his head with a sigh, watched Grey Wind slither from a little girl's grip, and stalk into the stable; Robb thought that the wolf had likely caught onto Jon's horse's scent and motioned for one of the guards to look around in that area. "Would that he had told anyone he was leaving," he said. "But he didn't, so here I am searching for him. Also, Farlan and his hounds are out looking, too, but I've no great faith in them when Ghost comes into play."

As Robb spoke, Jonelle wore a worried expression; she held a hand against her chest. "Jon told me Ghost caught the scent of a stag, and they were tracking it to Torrhen's Square. You don't think he lied, do you?"

As Robb nodded, he noticed the upset on her face and wondered when Jonelle had desired more than just friendship with Jon. "He knew we would be coming here, like as not, and tried to throw us off course."

"Did you see which way he went after leaving?" Asked Hallis, sighing when Jonelle shook her head. "He's likely ridden through the river's shallows to mask his scent. Your wolf would have trouble tracking through that, even with his keen nose."

"If so, he's as good as gone," another man said. Then, Robb closed his eyes and cursed loudly, and the man quickly added, "Best we can hope for is he runs into the King's procession. Robert had met Jon, If memory serves, back after the war Ironborn rebellion."

"Aye," agreed Jacks, who had been sullen since departing from Winterfell—the man had condemned himself for letting Jon leave; even after being told it was not his fault, he still blamed himself. "If luck is on our side, he'll run into Ser Barristan. I recall the Bold had shown Jon a few things during his short stay in Winterfell those years ago."

Another man, Lew, added, "Didn't he offer to take the boy as his squire?" That was the first Robb heard of this; deep down, he felt a little jealous but kept that off his face and asked the stout guard to tell him what he knew. "Aye, but I heard Lord Stark refused the knight."

"Ah, I remember now," said Hallis, a slight smile on his lips as he recalled the memory. "Jon was beyond pissed when he heard about the refusal, and who could blame the lad? It isn't every day the finest sword in the world chooses you to be his squire."

Jonelle came back from her thoughts and then wiped her cheek of snow; as she spoke, Robb couldn't help but be angry that Jon had told her and not him about something so significant. "Ha, when I visited after the war, I had to bribe him with pastries so he would tell me what had upset him. I beg your pardon, but I must return to the castle." She curtsied before she hurried off, but Robb had seen the wetness of her eyes despite her best efforts at masking them with a smile.

When the guard returned from the stables with Grey Wind behind him, Robb asked if he found anything. "One of the stables looks slept in," he said. "Also, there was a tankard of ale in the hay."

'He must not have wanted to be seen,' thought Robb, frowning. 'Jonelle must have caught him off guard...' He shook his head and told the men they would ride back for Winterfell in the morning.

"I need a whore," he heard Theon grumble, watching the Ironborn vanish into the market; Robb shook his head. 'That's all he does,' he thought. 'Fuck, drink, joke, and fuck some more.' Robb wondered why he felt Theon was so great after his father returned from the war with him.

—————

[Moat Cailin 298 AC]

Jaehaerys.

He had nearly forgotten about the Usurper riding for Winterfell, so now he and his companions were hauled up in the Gatehouse Tower, the biggest of the three remaining towers of the ancient Keep that defended the north from southron invaders for thousands and thousands of years.

"Why are we hiding, Jon?" Brynden stood on the large stone table, peeking through the gaps in the stone as the King's procession passed. "There's so much to do, and Ser Barristan could be somewhere down there!"

Jae could hear the chatter and laughter of thousands of people, the singing of a hundred different bards, and the distant squeals of women, likely whores travelling with the King's party to keep the soldiers from raping the smallfolk in the towns they passed.

Yes, the Bold could be somewhere in the sea of guardsmen, knights and freeriders, singers and whores, and Jae would be lying if he said he didn't want to speak to the knight that had offered to take him as his squire all those years ago to see if he had suspected Jae's true heritage.

"Because if we go down there, I might not be able to stop myself from gutting a stag," Jae said after a while, running his fingers through Ghost's fur as Winter watched on jealously from the warmest corner of the tower. "And there'll be other chances to meet, Ser Barristan."

Brynden huffed and hopped off the table, sitting on the ground by the small fire they had made to keep warm. "What did the King do for you to hate him so much?"

'Killed my father,' thought Jae, eyes glaring into the flames. Then, he saw images; first, a great storm thundering as wildfire turned a mountain into piles of molten rock. 'Shamed my mother.' Then, a giant wolf tore at a stag's throat, a dying screech leaving the creature as its neck snapped. 'Laughed at the corpses of babes, my brother and sister.' Lions attempted to flee the fire, only to be trapped and cornered by snarling wolves.

Jae shook his head, and the images ceased. He looked at Brynden, who had been staring at him, and sighed before saying, "You'll know when we arrive at Greywater, alright? Get some rest, and don't try sneaking off at night to explore the camp; Ghost will drag you back and lie on top of you."

Brynden was unimpressed. "'You'll know when we arrive at Greywater' seems like your favourite sentence." Jae flicked the boy on the ear, and Brynden cried out in surprise. "Ass!"

"Go to sleep, Brynden."

"Fine," the boy pouted as he lay against Winter.

And Jae closed his eyes, leaning back against the wall, not knowing that someone had seen the light from the fire and was making their way toward the ancient stronghold, gripping the pommel of a sword.

—————

Alex here :)

Some people (not all) on this godforsaken app, website, or wherever you're reading this from don't quite understand that some people don't enjoy writing manipulative MCs. I no likey self-serving, pathological liars for characters, so I don't write them when I don't have to. (I'm not good at being an asshole, so how would I know how to write one?)

However, some people find those characters more entertaining to read; I, for one, am guilty of this sometimes. But, as I stated in the previous paragraph, I cannot write characters like that and go to sleep with a good conscience (call me a bitch, I already know :D ), so don't expect Jae to make decisions that would get innocent people killed when it isn't completely necessary. Ned still raised him, and you can't just "delete" being taught to live with honour just because.

Oh, right, don't look forward to my writing when we start getting to the endgame with Tywin making more appearances (There will be Lannister bashing because fuck Tywin, fuck most of Tyrion(I like him, but not a lot), and fuuuuuuck Cersei... Jaime's alright, but I still don't like him much.)

Sorry, I'm rambling here; y'all don't wanna read allat :/

I know this chapter wasn't the best, but thank you for reading either way. Also, I would like to ask for a small loan of your daily stones, as this would really help spread the good word of my channel-

Wait, what? ...I can't say that? Oh, alright...

Anyway! Have a good and dandy day, Dudes and Dudettes!

BYE :D

-Alex.