[REWRITING] take the gun (and put it to my head)

two thousand years (and twenty more)

content warnings; asoiaf typical incest(implied), referenced violence, briefly mentioned firearms, implied fear of self harm, non sexual non consensual intimate touching

jaehaerys wants to crawl out of his own skin.

the man stands in the middle of the living room, in the middle of his living room. jaehaerys is intimidated, even the face of death cannot deny being intimidated by this man. he is large, tall and all muscle, he seems almost larger than life. he invades jaehaerys' space, takes over his air, rips the comfort the apartment had provided out root and stem.

he is keenly aware of the gun on the other's belt. he is even more aware of his own lack of weaponry. rhaenyra would not allow it. he had raged at his sister, she had not changed her mind.

the man is staring at him.

jaehaerys remembers faintly that rhaenyra had told him the other's name. he wracks through fuzzy, foggy memories and comes up with orys. orys baratheon.

"you are staring," his voice comes out almost choked, almost scared. he cannot understand why this orys baratheon scares him. jaehaerys has faced death in the face. jaehaerys has become the face of death. his bones still want to shake.

"you do not like being looked at?" the question is almost teasing, as if this orys baratheon is trying to become friends with him. he acts like he is not the sole reason for all of jaehaerys' struggles in life.

"no, stop doing it." he knows he is being snappy, rude even. he knows rhaenyra wont be happy if, when orys reports back. it always gets back to his sister. he figures he's already in for a scolding and there is little and less to lose, "i do not like you, i do not want you here, i definitely do not need you. stop looking at me."

jaehaerys is almost out of breath, almost panting as he finishes. his skin feels alit beneath orys' gaze, things crawl beneath the flesh. he feels ready to explode, to run. he doesnt think he would get far.

the door swings open and jaehaerys jumps.

jace walks in, raising one questioning brow at what is certainly anger flushed cheeks.

"you ready? i want to pick your brain on these plans," jaehaerys is moving before he thinks, he resists the urge to hide behind his nephew. it is childish to hide behind a boy of seven and ten.

"corlys wants you in the underground parking, orys, something about pay i think," jace has clearly picked up on just how worked up he is, quickly guiding them from the apartment with a soft hand around jaehaerys' wrist. he sighs once they are inside the lift, once the doors are shut and the watchful eyes of orys baratheon are gone.

"i dont like him." he sounds like a child, like a little boy proclaiming he doesnt like broccoli. he would half expect jace to laugh in his face. daemon would.

jace doesn't laugh, "i know, but you know why he's here."

the silence that follows is as close jaehaerys will ever come to acknowledging this fact.

—-

the underground parking is cold. corlys waits by his old truck. orys thinks he looks kind. as kind as a man who has lived as long in this business can.

"rhaenyra went over all the details?" corlys is to the point and still warm.

"yes sir." men like corlys dont usually want to hear much past that, orys thinks.

"im impressed, if i'm honest. he hasnt tried to slip you yet," corlys huffs with what is almost laughter before he continues, "weeks pay is in the lockbox at the bank, the one rhaenyra gave you the passcode for."