Brandon was a formidable warrior. He truly was. Few men could fight him. He and Tohrren were similarly skilled, although Brandon's aggressiveness led him to win most fights against his brother.
But normal men were one thing, and Jaehaerys Targaryen was quite another. Brandon could fight Ser Barristan and last quite a while until the old knight found an opening and ended the duel.
But when he trained with the prince, the match lasted as long as Jaehaerys Targaryen wanted it to last. The fight was not fair at the beginning, in the middle, or at the end. No, Jaehaerys crushed him with brute force.
He didn't use his three-section staff, nor the whole staff. He used to use a pole from a spear with the tip removed to avoid hurting his men.
And Brandon was grateful for that.
"Are you giving up?" Jaehaerys asked. Brandon was on the ground, holding his leg. It was a training exercise; he wasn't wearing armor, and the blow knocked him down quickly.
'If I had been wearing armor, that stick would have broken,' thought Snow.
'If he had used a real weapon, I wouldn't be able to walk again,' the man reconsidered.
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Jaehaerys didn't want to train that day. At least that wasn't his intention when he approached. He wanted to make sure Daenerys was okay.
He found himself taking a step back, letting another wooden stick strike the air where he had been before.
"Stop!" he ordered his men, who had drawn their swords and were about to attack the aggressor.
"Oh!" Serena looked at the steel and was frightened.
Jaehaerys had given her permission to strike him at any moment, if she could get close enough to do so.
It was part of a bet between the two of them. Jaehaerys told her that he would not train her in the use of the staff; he would only begin to train her when she moved on to using a two-segment staff.
The girl was not happy with that, saying that no one could teach her to do such a thing. He pointed out that the spearmen were capable of teaching her; it was not the same, but it could serve as a basis.
Serena did not want to accept this, so she asked him to give her a task she could complete, which would convince him to train her from the beginning.
She was not exactly rude; in fact, she was quite diplomatic in making the offer. Jaehaerys would have looked immature if he had refused.
Since then, she had been attacking him at different times of the day. At first, she had been more honorable, appearing, announcing herself, and then launching an attack. When she realized that this would not work, she drew on her Dornish heritage.
She began to ambush him. All of them failed. Jaehaerys knew that the girl was still training with the spear with one of her Dornish bodyguards, but even so, she persisted in trying to hit him. It was no longer because she wanted him to train her; at that point, it was more a matter of pride than anything else.
Jaehaerys would never allow a fourteen-year-old girl who had started training a week ago to hit him. He was proud, too.
"Ouch!" the girl cried out when he lightly tapped her wrist with the wooden stick.
The blow still landed, but he could see that she had made an effort to avoid it this time. She was good, quite good, and it was no surprise, given that she had the blood of great warriors running through her veins. In the last attempt to ambush him, Jaehaerys made her drop the stick by hitting her wrist, but this time she managed to keep hold of the weapon and almost dodged the blow.
She attacked again, the staff dancing awkwardly in her hands. She was new, and she had the potential to learn. But until that moment, it was just that, potential. She made desperate but somehow successful attacks. Jaehaerys blocked them all, wasting no time dodging; it wasn't necessary.
"Are you tired already?" he asked the girl, who was breathing heavily.
The physique of a warrior is not built in one night.
Unless you are Jaehaerys Targaryen.
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Serena took a deep breath to calm down. The wooden stick in her hand was not particularly heavy, but at that moment, she found it quite challenging to move.
For the first time, the girl wondered if it was a good idea to learn how to fight from the prince. It was a unique fighting style, yes, but it wasn't the only one she could practice. The truth was that she wasn't that interested in fighting. The only reason she wanted to learn how to fight was because she never wanted to feel a man on top of her again, in any way possible.
She would kill Joffrey if he ever tried anything like that to her again. Maybe she would even kill him even if he didn't try anything. He was a bastard who didn't deserve to live.
But he was still her brother. Mom would be sad.
'But she never got sad when she saw me crying,' thought the princess.
Cersei used to turn a blind eye when she found her crying. She didn't come to comfort her, at least not right away. It was later, after giving her moon tea, that she would tell her that the family would be ruined and infamy would fall upon them if they found out about the things her older brother did to her. Serena kept quiet for that very reason. Her mother was good at convincing her not to talk.
'Perhaps she could have convinced Joffrey to leave me alone. But she didn't even try.
"Serena," the wooden staff in her hand moved toward where she heard the voice.
Her wrist hurt when the cane stopped abruptly. She looked where it had struck, blinking several times to focus, not realizing when she had started crying. She looked at the piece of wood stuck in the prince's hand. He wasn't looking at her with anger, only concern.
"I'm sorry," she apologized as she dropped her weapon as if it were burning her palm.
She remained silent, waiting for a reprimand.
"You hit me in the end," she heard the prince say. She knew where this was going.
"I don't need pity, Prince Jaehaerys," she said quickly, perhaps even sharply. "I'll find a better way to hit you," she didn't want to take something she didn't deserve.
"Start running with Sam; it will help you endure more," the prince advised.
She had watched Qyburn's fat apprentice run around the castle. At first, she felt a little sorry for him, but gradually, she developed a little respect. The man had initially been so wide that he could have taken up the space of two or three men, but now, although he was still a little fat, he was much better than before.
The knights said he would never be an excellent warrior, but he could learn to defend himself.
Samwell himself was there on the training ground. He was sweating profusely. She felt Jaehaerys push her toward the fat man.
That made her nervous. It wasn't that she had never spoken to the boy before, but she used to think carefully and choose her words with meticulous care. She would first go over possible conversations in her mind before having them in real life. Being pushed so abruptly took her out of her comfort zone.
"Uh," she stammered. Samwell turned to look at her. They weren't strangers, but they had barely exchanged words. He tried to talk to her, but when she didn't respond, he walked away. He was still friendly, though. "When run... where?" The girl wanted Jaehaerys to punch her in the face with all his might.
She heard other men laughing behind Sam. None of them too loudly.
Samwell thought for long seconds. "Sunrise... here?" The boy pointed at the ground, referring to the training field.
She didn't know if he was making fun of her, although, knowing the young man, it was unlikely.
"Now he thinks I'm an idiot," she thought, although she also considered it a little sweet how the man seemed to want to imitate her stupid way of communicating.
"Fine," she said, turning around and leaving the training ground, her faithful guard following her, a little worried.
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"That was a little cruel," said Daenerys, looking at her husband with narrowed eyes. "She has enough difficulty speaking, especially to men."
"Is that so?" Jaehaerys was surprised. He considered the girl rough, but not necessarily awkward when speaking. "I never noticed her being nervous when she spoke to me."
"She feels safe with you. You indirectly rescued her from her hell," explained Daenerys. Although she never heard directly from the girl or Jaehaerys what Serena had suffered, she could deduce it from her behavior.
"I see..." The man was a little moved.
Jaehaerys ran a hand through Daenerys' hair, which was short but beginning to take shape. Sweat had left it damp, so the princess quickly pulled away.
The short hair gave the princess a different look, as if she were tougher.
"Rowena," the woman watched the exchange from the side. "Are you sure you're leaving with your men? You can appoint someone to lead them," said the prince.
"I am their leader, Prince Jaehaerys," she said. "I want to make sure that the bandits are completely exterminated and that my men maintain their respect for me. I lost quite a few when I agreed to join you. Others have faith, but they doubt me," the woman explained.
"I understand. If you find very young bandits, give them a chance to live. Unless they have committed atrocities or seem irredeemable," he requested. Part of the banditry was due to the poor living conditions of the smallfolk. It wasn't that he would let them go free; he would find a way to punish them.
But a dead man was useless, so it was better to give them a chance to atone for their sins.
"I will, my prince," the woman nodded. "Princess, I hope you will be better with the sword by the time I return," she nodded toward Daenerys. The princess smiled at the woman.