Chapter 59
Chapter 59
Brynden felt like he was about to start climbing walls and screaming. Something very undignified for his true age. But then again, his new body and present physical age may have had something to do with his lack of restraint.
Because few could imagine the Bloodraven behaving like a hysterical teenager. Although he did have an excuse. Multiple, even.
First all his as he had mistakenly thought, ‘genius’ plans turned out to be for naught. Not only did the existence of the so-called Promised Prince fall under question but his goal or what he thought was his goal was ridiculous.
Why should he be the only one to care about the threat of the Long Night or the Others? Why? It’s not like Westeros doesn’t have its Lords whose very duty (that they usually forget about) is to protect their lands. Why should he or one of his blood relations by way of the Targaryens sacrifice their own well-being and possibly life to protect lands they don’t even consider their home? Especially when ‘heroes’ that gain the trust and praise of the people don’t tend to live or be in positions of influence for long. Because those who are good in battle aren’t necessarily good at anything else. And when one enters the Game, battle prowess often matters very little.
What would he gain by getting involved?
Gratitude of those in power?
Mayhap his old position?
Happiness?
As if,,,
If anything, he is more likely to suffer a lethal and absolutely accidental accident. Because if there is one thing those in power always have in common it’s that they don’t like to share. So when he saw a way out in the face of a beautiful silver-haired youth, he took it with little hesitation. Frankly, it was more circumstance then his own decision.
But picking up mini-Daemon? That was all on him.
And now he just wants to slap the fool who made such a decision in the face. Even if it was himself.
It wasn’t just the endless chatter and stupid questions that got to him. Or the similarities with his idiot of a half-brother. No. It was the kid’s fascination with magic. Although that was to be expected from one with the blood of the dragons living in Essos free from the brainwashing of the Faith of the Seven. But what kind of idiot, after being told that yes, magic is real, decides to start throwing balls of fire around?
Young Griff, apparently.
Because he just wanted to see if he could…
Idiot…
Well, both of them actually…
Considering that for all that he had followed his feelings, ‘Jon Snow’ was nowhere to be seen. And now the both of them are stuck virtually in the middle of nowhere, staring at the unwelcoming sights of the Poison Sea and the Bone Mountains. Even the raider settlements stood windblown and abandoned. And it didn’t help that the single frantic Dorokai rider they managed to intercept was out of mind with fear rambling about ‘Serpents! Huge Serpents! Flying Serpents! Crawling Serpents! Swimming Serpents! Serpents with Death in their eyes! Serpents that chase the Stallion! Serpents! Serpents! Serpents…’
And no matter how they questioned him, his tale didn’t change. They couldn’t help putting the rider out of his misery.
Honestly, at that point, it was a mercy.