The Ice Dragon

Posted originally on the Archive of Our Own at http://archiveofourown.org/works/22452625.

Rating: Mature
Archive Warning: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Fandom: A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin, Game of Thrones (TV)
Relationship: Jon Snow/Margaery Tyrell, Jon Snow/Arianne Martell, Jon
Snow/Daenerys Targaryen
Character: Jon Snow, Jaime Lannister, Viserys Targaryen, Rhaegar Targaryen,
Oberyn Martell, Elia Martell, Eddard Stark, Robb Stark, Jon Connington,
Randyll Tarly, Olenna Tyrell, Margaery Tyrell, Ser Loras Tyrell, Jon
Arryn, Stannis Baratheon, Tyrion Lannister, Tywin Lannister, Ser Arthur
Dayne, Ser Oswell Whent, Varys, Rhaenys Targaryen
Additional Tags: Alternate Universe - Rhaegar Won, rhaegar died, Jon is Jaehaerys,
Jaehaerys grows up in the Red Keep, Jaehaerys Master Politician,
Dark Sister - Freeform, Blackfyre, War, Plots
Stats: Published: 2020-01-28 Completed: 2020-05-20 Chapters: 33/33 Words:
128068

The Ice Dragon

by spearshake

Summary

In the wake of the Rebellion, a young Prince is left alone in the capital with the ghosts of
his ancestors and the burden of their mistakes. Will a Prince born into the Game of Thrones
survive the deadly dance of King's Landing and save Westeros from the chaos that threatens
it? Or, Rhaegar won but died on the Trident, Jae's a hostage in KL. Cunning/Jae playing the
Game of Thrones.
 Chapter 1

Jaehaerys Targaryen sat in his chair and attentively listened to the words of Maester Alwyn. This
was his favorite part of the day along with his music lessons. Alone with his Maester, learning
about the history of the Realm and how it was run. Sparring with Ser Jaime was a close second, but
there was always a chance of trouble then. No, only in the Maester's and Septa's chambers did he
ever feel truly safe.

Those amethyst eyes, the only feature he had inherited from his father, were wide as he listened to
him retell the history of Daeron's Conquest. The Young Dragon was his favorite Targaryen, he
decided.

''...Of course, the Young Dragon's folly would have long-lasting consequences on the Seven
Kingdoms.'' The Maester continued.

''Folly!'' Jae cried, outraged. The Maester was telling him about his brilliant victories only a
moment earlier! ''What do you mean? He conquered Dorne. He was brilliant!''

The Maester didn't know what he was talking about, Jae decided. He peered at him closely. Maybe
he was dornish himself, that would explain it.

Alwyn smiled at Jae's exuberance. He was one of the few people that would smile at him in any
way and Jahaerys cherished him for it. ''He defeated Dorne, my Prince, he did not conquer it.''

''What's the difference?'' Jae asked with a frown.

''Conquering something means you keep it. Daeron did not.'' Alwyn pointed out, watching his
young ward closely.

''It's not his fault the dornish killed Lord Tyrell like that.'' He grumbled, refusing to accept the
Maester's words.

''Isn't it?'' Alwyn asked, one eyebrow raised. ''You can say the dornish did not fight honorably, or
you can say Daeron was a fool for expecting them to. He did not consider who he was fighting, and
so he lost.''

Jae's brows furrowed as he thought about the Maester's words. Maybe Daeron wasn't his favorite
Targaryen. Ser Jaime had told him many times that war was about more than just swords. Maybe
that's what he meant.

''So what should he have done, then?'' Jae asked, wondering himself.

''Read the histories and considered that even if Aegon's dragons hadn't made Dorne bow, neither
would his swords.'' Maester Alwyn said dryly.

But then the Seven Kingdoms would never become Seven Kingdoms, there would only be Six
Kingdoms and that just didn't sound as good. Surely it was better this way. He wondered if even
the Maester knew the answer. He was starting to realize even the grown-ups didn't know
everything.

He would figure it out. He blocked out the Maester's words as he thought about it but quickly came
to amend his silent declaration; he would figure it out, one day.
After about an hour of history lessons, it was time for him to do sums. Jaehaerys was good at them,
he could always understand what the Maester was talking about, but it also bored him to no end.
Still, he did them dutifully, because it was far better than wandering around the Red Keep.
Sometimes he even pretended not to understand just so the lessons would last a bit longer and he
could go straight to his music lessons.

When he stepped out of the Maester's chambers, the familiar feeling of dread pooled in his
stomach. Ser Jaime was walking behind him, the closest thing Jaehaerys had to a friend, but even
he wouldn't be able to protect him from everyone.

Lord Connington had appointed Ser Jaime as his sworn-sword back when he was still little.
Jaehaerys knew Ser Jaime was disliked as well and decided to like him for that alone. They had
something in common! It took a while for Ser Jaime to stop looking at him like he was a piece of
dirt on his shoe, but he did!

One day, after he had drilled the Maester for all the information he could reveal about the end of
the Rebellion, he had asked Ser Jaime why he had killed the King.

Jaehaerys didn't know everything but he knew that he was smart – Maester Alwyn always said so –
and it made no sense to him. The war was over, the Usurper dead. Why would Ser Jaime want to
kill the King.

Ser Jaime stared at him with wide eyes, his face quickly becoming pale. Then he laughed a
breathless laugh, both cynical and disbelieving. ''How is it that the first person to ask me that is a
eight-year-old boy?'' he asked, but Jaehaerys felt like Ser Jaime was asking himself more than him.

And then Ser Jaime told him a story. It gave Jae nightmare for weeks on end, but he knew Ser
Jaime wasn't what all those mean people called him. He was the greatest knight in the Seven
Kingdoms, and Jaehaerys made sure to tell him so. It was only right. Those mean people were
idiots, he decided, and he would never be like them.

Ser Jaime became much nicer after that, always ready to help Jae and explain things he didn't
understand. More than anything, Jae loved to learn how to fight from Ser Jaime. One day he would
be big and strong and Viserys wouldn't be able to touch him.

His feet took him to his chambers as quickly as they could. He passed by servants as he walked, all
of whom bowed when he passed even if he could see it in their eyes. They were just like all the
other mean people.

''Well, well, if it isn't the Bane of Westeros and the Kingslayer.'' A voice Jae was all too familiar
with sneered. He looked to the side to find Viserys walking down the hallway towards him, the
usual gaggle of squires laughing along at his words. ''What a lovely pair you two make.''

From an early age, Jae knew he hated Viserys. He was mean and cruel and kept saying hurtful
things. The worst thing was, Ser Jaime couldn't protect him from it. Jaehaerys had hated the knight
the first time it happened, even as Ser Jaime looked on the verge of tears and begged Jaehaerys to
forgive him.

It took some time, but Jaehaerys eventually did. Ser Jaime wasn't the one he was really angry at, it
was himself. Because he was too weak to defend himself from Viserys and could do nothing to
stop him. Ser Jaime made their training harder after but no matter how hard Jaehaerys tried,
Viserys was just too big.

They agreed then that Jaehaerys would always run away should he ever run across Viserys and
hide. Ser Jaime showed him a couple of entrances into secret passages and Jaehaerys took him
from there. He knew nearly all of them by now and it just so happened one was near.

Without wasting a second, he dropped his books and ran off, hoping Ser Jaime would buy him a
second or two of a head start. Judging by the shouting behind him, he was right. He ran around a
corner, nearly hitting a maid with hands full of linens, and ran on until he reached an alcove. There
was a statue of Jaehaerys the Conciliator in it, but what most didn't know was that there was an
entrance to the secret passages hidden behind it.

He pulled open the ledge and jumped inside and quietly closed the latch behind him. He stayed in
place, careful not to make a sound until he heard Viserys and those stupid squires run by. Only then
did he allow himself to breathe freely and crawled further down the passageway.

He had these parts memorize though he knew there was still much more left to explore. He took
one turn after another, knowing his location even in the pitch dark.

About fifteen minutes later, he came out of the floor in the Sept, peaking out to see if there was
anyone near. Only Ser Jaime was standing there, a wry smile on his face as he leaned casually on
one of the pillars of the Sept of the Red Keep. Jae quickly pulled himself out before putting the
loose tile back in its place.

''Ready for your music lessons?'' Ser Jaime asked as he pulled away from the pillar.

Jaehaerys straightened his clothes, did his best to clean himself of all the dirt, and nodded.

He had started with his music lessons at first because the Septa had offered and because it was
good way to stop Viserys from attacking him. There was a lot of spare time between his lessons
with the Maester and his sparring with Ser Jaime and he couldn't well spend all of it barred in his
room, reading.

He came to like the lessons, though. He didn't truly appreciate music until he was the one playing
and he quickly became adept at playing the harp. The Septa and Ser Jaime both told him his father
was very good at it, which only made him like it more. If his father could play the harp, then
maybe it wasn't just for girls.

He made his way to the Septa's quarters to find her already waiting for him, a small smile on his
face.

''Ready for your lesson?'' she asked and Jaehaerys nodded eagerly. He was close to mastering
another song and it was the first time he had learned to sing while he played. In the beginning, his
fingers would get all tangled up when he tried to sing along, but now he was close to actually
mastering it. He felt giddy at the thought of it. He would be able to play with the best of them soon,
he knew.

It was late afternoon before he came out of the Septa's quarters, Ser Jaime wearing that familiar
grin on his face. He always had it when it came time for them to spar. He was relentless in his
training of Jaehaerys and said it was for his own good, but Jae privately thought Ser Jaime just
liked winning.

He felt like he would never be able to beat the knight since Ser Jaime was just too good and too
fast and too bloody smart.

They made their way to the outer courtyard. The Red Keeps Master-At-Arms bowed to Jaehaerys
when they arrived and quickly moved to help him put on some protective padding and give him a
blunted tourney sword.

''So, my Prince, ready to lose again?''

Jaehaerys did not know what to say, so he stuck out his tongue and went on the attack. He slashed
to the left, just like Jaime taught him to, trying to keep his balance and set his feet right. Ser Jaime
lazily deflected the swing, but then slashed downward with lightning speed. He was aiming to hit
Jae's blade just above the crossguard. It always ended up with Jae dropping the sword but he had
done it so many times that Jae expected it.

Rather than hold his sword upright, Jae lifted his elbow, pointing the sword downwards. Ser
Jaime's blow glanced right off it and Jaehaerys swung side-ways, hitting Ser Jaime's shield on the
side. It gave him an opening and Jaehaerys thrust forth at his chest. For a moment, he was full of
hope, but then Ser Jaime stepped back and deflected the thrust with ease, laughing all the while. In
his eagerness to finally land a blow on Jaime, he'd over-extended and so stumbled forth.

''Oh, the little dragon is learning,'' he cooed as though Jaehaerys was a baby and hit him on the
behind with the flat of his blade, knowing it would only make him angrier. But Jaime had told him
sometimes men would say things to get under his skin and force him to make a mistake. It worked
too many times on him and Jaehaerys swore he would never fall for it again.

So he stood in place, waiting for Jaime to make his first move. Jaime always told him the fight
could last as long as he like. Thirty seconds or five hours. Defeat was never a certainty as long as
he focused on his footwork and his balance. Privately Jaehaerys was beginning to doubt that since
he'd never won before no matter how hard he tried. He'd never admit that to Jaime though.

The two of them went on and on until Jaehaerys was panting from exhaustion and hurting all over
from the blows. His right wrist especially hurt. He shuddered to think how he would feel if Jaime
wasn't holding back.

Probably nothing, since I'd be dead, he thought ruefully as he took off his padding and trekked
back to his chambers. He was so tired, he even forgot to worry about Viserys, but then the man was
usually too busy drinking in the evenings to care about Jaehaerys.

His supper was waiting for him in his chambers when he got there. Jaehaerys dug into it with
gusto, feeling his tiredness getting to him by the time he was finished.

He reluctantly got into bed. He was so tired, but he knew that now the dreams would come. And
Jaehaerys hated those dreams.
 Chapter 2

Jaehaerys stood in the courtyard of the Red Keep, trying not to fidget. He'd done this many times
before, he told himself. This was no different.

He was standing apart of Lord Connington and Prince Viserys and while they were both wearing
red and black, Jaehaerys was told to wear grey and white. He did not know why but he did not
mind. Anything that made him different from Viserys was good.

They were standing a bit ahead of him as a party of horsemen rode through the gates, flying yellow
and black colors. They were Baratheons, Jae knew. It was one of the first sigils he had learned.

They were also traitors, or that's what Lord Connington always said. He said they were vile and
should be despised. But Jae's Uncle was also a traitor and he didn't want to despise him. Besides,
he didn't like Lord Connington much anyway. He was as mean and angry around Jaehaerys just as
Viserys was.

He decided he would have to see for himself as he watched a large man dismount from his horse.
He had short hair, a receding hairline, stormy blue eyes and a face that looked like it had never
smiled.

Jae watched him approach and couldn't help but feel the man was a little scary. He walked up to
Lord Connington but he did not bow or kneel like people usually did. He only said, ''Lord
Connington, Prince Viserys.'' With a terse nod.

''It is customary to kneel in front of your rulers, traitor.'' Prince Viserys hissed but Stannis
Baratheon did not get angry like Jae thought he would. He saw the other nobles present shift
anxiously at that. They were right to, Jae thought, Viserys was being rude.

''It is customary to kneel in front of one's King.'' Stannis looked around as though he was looking
for one. ''I see no King here.'' Then his eyes landed on Jaehaerys.

Seeing Viserys so angry but not be able to do anything about it made Jae like this man. He knew
the man wouldn't like him but that didn't matter, nobody liked him.

He stiffened when Lord Stannis walked closer to him and crouched until he was at eye level.

''Never hesitate to look people in the eyes,'' Ser Jaime told him and he wouldn't. His mother never
would.

He swallowed heavily but kept eye-contact with Lord Stannis, though he wanted nothing more than
to run away. It was Lord Stannis who first looked away, but he examined Jaehaery from head to
toe. He had the urge to look down too, afraid he had dirtied his clothes again. What would Lord
Stannis think of him?

''Nice to meet you, Prince Jaehaerys.'' Lord Stannis finally said with a nod.

''A pleasure to meet you too, Lord Baratheon,'' Jae returned the nod, remembering all the courtesies
he'd been taught. ''Welcome to King's Landing,'' he added after he remembered neither Connington
nor Viserys had said it.

The corners of Lord Baratheon's lips seemed to twitch before he nodded again and looked at Lord
Connington, who was busy glaring at Jae.
''I trust quarters have been prepared for my men?'' Lord Stannis said, raising an eyebrow.

''Yes, Lord Stannis,'' Lord Connington replied through gritted teeth, ''As have yours. If you will
follow the servants, they will lead you there.'' And with that, Lord Connington turned on his heel
and marched away, Viserys right behind him.

Jae was confused. Connington was often impolite to their guests, especially those he considered
traitors, but he never acted like that before. Jae was left standing in the courtyard alone with no one
but Ser Jaime, feeling awkward. He knew he should do something, but didn't know what.

He was curious about this stern man, so he felt he might as well walk him to his chambers.

''I can show you the way if you like, My Lord.'' He said, trying to smile but knowing he came off
as a fool.

Lord Baratheon regarded him in surprise and Jae anxiously waited for what he'd say. ''Lead the
way then, My Prince.''

He breathed a sigh of relief. ''Come, Ser Jaime,'' Jae looked over his shoulder to find the knight
looking at him with a bemused smile.

As they walked the corridors, Jae tried desperately to think of something to say. Then he
remembered Connington mentioning the 'treacherous stag had another fawn'. He was pretty sure
that meant Lord Stannis had a son. Second son.

Those courtesies saved him again. ''I've heard you've had a son, Lord Baratheon. Um...
congratulations. I hope he is well.'' He cursed himself again. He couldn't even get that right, how
stupid was he?

''Thank you, Your Grace,'' Lord Baratheon replied as they walked, ''Steffon is well, as is his
mother.''

You forgot to ask about his mother, Jae berated himself. Could this have gone any worse?

''And your first son?'' Jae asked, struggling to remember the name. ''Orys, yes?'' his hands fidgeted
nervously.

Stannnis nodded. ''He is well too. He's started his lessons with the sword not too long ago. He is
close to your age, Your Grace.''

''Really?'' Jae asked excitedly. ''Could you bring him along sometime?'' he asked far too hopefully
and quickly scolded himself for it. Connington would never allow it and he was being a fool.

''Mayhaps, Your Grace.'' Lord Stannis replied, watching him very intensely for some reason.

He was all too relieved when they reached his chambers and he could finally escape. ''Here you go,
My Lord.''

''Thank you for your help, Your Grace... and your kind words.'' Lord Stannis said, looking down at
him with those cold eyes.

He could only nod and get away as fast as he could.

''That was well done,'' Ser Jaime said when they rounded a corner.

Jae didn't know what the man was talking about. ''I made a fool of myself!''
''No,'' Jaime shook his head, ''You were polite and thoughtful. Far better than those two cunts.'' He
said in contempt and Jae giggled at the word. Seeing it, even Ser Jaime cracked a smile.

Both smiles died down when they found the door to his chambers open, Lord Connington and
Viserys standing there, both of them glaring at him.

''You will not be attending the feast this evening,'' Connington said curtly.

''Why not?'' Jae asked. He knew that as a Prince he was expected to be there.

''Because we can't let you embarrass our House any further,'' Viserys told him. Connington said
nothing. Jae knew the man was aware of Viserys' behavior towards him and did nothing to stop it.

As if to prove his point, Connington then said, ''I will leave you with your Uncle. He has
something he wants to discuss with you.'' He left then, closing the door behind him and leaving Ser
Jaime on the other side.

There was no escape now. There was one secret passage that led out of his room but he couldn't
use it now. Best case, Viserys would know how Jae managed to escape him so often. Worst case,
he would figure out that he can sneak into his chambers without anyone knowing about it.

Jae tried to fight back, he really did, but Viserys pushed him to the ground and started kicking him.
''How dare you talk to that filthy traitor!'' he raged as he kicked him again. ''You think he'll help
you? No one will help you! Because no one cares!''

Jaime cares, Jaehaerys told himself as he curled into a ball at the edge of the bed. That way,
Viserys at least couldn't kick him in the back.

When it was finally all over, Jaehaerys wept on the floor and hated himself for it, while Viserys
laughed cruelly and walked out of the room. He was so weak. Jaime told him his father was a
brave warrior and his mother fierce and untameable. He was nothing like them.

He heard the jiggling of armor and looked up to find Jaime standing there. He leaned down and
picked him off the floor, placing him on the bed.

''What's the point?'' Jae asked through his sobs. ''Everyone hates me. Even my family. I should've
never been born.''

There was a beat of silence. ''Never say that, Jaehaerys. People do care for you.''

''Who? They all hate me for starting the war. You're the only person who's nice to me. I wish... I
wish I could just run away. Then I'd never have to deal with all these mean people again.''

''How about Maester Alwyn?'' Ser Jaime asked. Jae had nothing to say to that. ''And Septa Wylla?
They're nice, aren't they?''

Jae nodded in agreement, furiously wiping away his tears. ''B—But-'' he hiccupped, ''Won't they
just kill me?'' he spoke one of his biggest fears out-loud for the first time. ''Prince Oberyn said
Viserys wants to be King. Won't he just have me killed?''

''He can try,'' Ser Jaime growled.

''But who's going to stop him? You can't?'' he couldn't help the bit of accusation in his voice.

''You can,'' Ser Jaime replied, looking him right in the eyes.
''Me? B—But I am no one. I don't have any power. I can't even fight well.''

''You are Jaehaerys Targaryen, Crown Prince of the Seven Kingdoms. A dragon. You have more
power than you know and you can use it to save yourself. To help people.''

''How?'' Jae demanded, angry that Jaime was telling him things that couldn't be done.

Jaime sighed, but then looked sharply at him. ''How bad is it?'' he said, looking down at his body.

''No too bad,'' Jae admitted, ''I blocked most of it with my hands and knees.''

Jaime nodded and Jae could tell he had decided something. ''Grab a cloak, I'm going to show you
something.''

''Where are we going?'' Jae asked, but complied nonetheless and got off the bed.

''You'll see.'' Jaime said cryptically, ''Wait for me here, I'll be back in a couple of minutes.''

Jae did as he was told and waited until Jaime returned with a dark cloak of his own, pulled over his
head. ''Come, follow me,'' he said. Jae did not bother asking where they were going again.
Something told him Jaime wouldn't say no matter how hard he tried.

When they reached the Tower of the Hand, Jae worried that Jaime was taking him to Connington
but then Jaime took him down the stairs instead of up. When they got to the bottom, Jaime pushed
a closet that set against the wall aside to reveal a door. Jae's eyes went wide. He had found another
entrance to the passageways.

Ser Jaime entered, gesturing for Jae to follow. They walked through the darkness for a while
before they came out of a hole beneath the walls of the Red Keep that was hidden by bushes. Jae
looked up, wide-eyed. Oh, all the possibilities that came with this.

''You didn't think you were the only one who knew your way around the secret passageways, did
you?'' Ser Jaime asked with a grin and led on. Judging by their position, they were headed straight
down to Flea Bottom. Jaime made sure to keep Jae's face hidden, but he could recognize his
surroundings based on how they looked from the Red Keep. If that wouldn't have clued him in, the
smell certainly would. Jae wrinkled his nose. It was terrible.

Jae didn't dare to look up until they came to a stop.

''Look there,'' Jaime said, pointing at a shabby looking building. ''That's the King's Landing
orphanage.''

Jae's eyes widened and he noticed dirty looking kids running around in torn clothes with no shoes.
They look half-starved too. ''The girls will be lucky if they end up as servants and cooks. The
unlucky ones will be turned into whores or worse. The boys will either end up on the gallows, the
Wall or as soldiers in some Lord's army. That's all they can hope from life.''

He grabbed Jae by the shoulders and forced him to turn his way. ''I know you don't have an easy
life, Jaehaerys, but you're still a Prince. You still have a chance. They don't. And you can help
them. You're the only one who can, Jaehaerys, because no one else gold in your pocket alone could
keep them all fed for weeks.''

The pouch he had on him suddenly felt a lot heavier. He never even thought to use it. Lord
Connington was forced to give him an allowance because Jaehaerys was expected to buy
something from the merchants when they visited the Red Keep. Jae never did, but the gold kept
coming and he stashed it in his room. He'd saved up a nice little pile.

''But I'm just—'' he said but didn't finish the sentence. ''—a stupid, weak boy.''

''You don't have to be strong, Jae,'' Jaime said, ''I could beat my father in a fight with ease, but no
one ever said I was more powerful.'' He took a deep breath. ''There are other kinds of power. That's
what you need to get. Lord Varys probably never held a sword in his life but everyone's afraid of
him.''

They're afraid of him because he knows things, Jae thought. But he could learn too. Sneaking
around the secret passageways, he often overheard conversations. He never paid attention, because
he felt dirty for listening in, but maybe he should have.

Jaime put a finger on his chin and made him look in the eye. ''Fight back, Jaehaerys. Any way you
can.''

There was a lump in his throat, but Jaime was right. He was being a coward. All he'd been trying to
do is avoid anyone that might hurt him when he should've been fighting back. But he could start
now. He wasn't sure how yet, but he was going to find out.

''Ser Jaime,'' he said and now his voice was so different, it made Jaime straighten up. He pulled the
pouch of his hip. ''Could you give this to the matron, please?''

Ser Jaime stared at him for a little while before he nodded and took it. He walked to the orphanage
and handed the pouch to an older woman. When she saw the gold inside, she nearly broke down in
tears and began thanking Jaime profusely.

It only furthered Jae's resolve. He wouldn't be a coward anymore and he wouldn't wallow in self-
pity. Jaime was right. His life might be tough, but others had it worse and he could help them.

He walked back to the Red Keep with a determined spring in his step.

It was time he started acting like a dragon.

 Chapter 3

Jaehaerys had spent the next two days hidden away in his chambers, or so people thought. He
spent his days crawling through the passageways, hoping to overhear something important while
trying to think things through. He knew he had to understand his situation before he could solve it.

He wanted to help people. It was the first time in his life that he truly had a goal and it was
invigorating. He'd been so selfish, only thinking about his own problems, never even considering
others might have it even worse.

But no more. He had to gain the power to help them but there was another matter he had to deal
with first.

Viserys. He couldn't well have people respect him if he didn't dare to walk the halls of his home.
He couldn't fight Viserys, so the only other alternative was to get rid of him.

Viserys was only brought to King's Landing by Connington to torment him, he decided. He'd
overheard enough of the Small Councils meeting while crawling through the passageways to know
he wasn't useful for anything else.

That meant Connington couldn't harm him himself. And he couldn't send anyone else to do it,
either, because Jaime would kill them.

But Viserys also only harmed him in private, where no one could see. While Jaehaerys was
disliked by the servants, Jae also knew they hated Viserys. They thought him a madman. It wasn't
hard to imagine that everyone else felt the same way.

So what would happen if Viserys harmed him in public? What would happen if people learned that
the Crown Prince of the Seven Kingdoms was being abused?

Ser Jaime said they would be outraged and Jae was decided to believe him. He doubted it, because
he'd never met anyone who'd care, but he knew Ser Jaime wouldn't tell him falsely.

He could force Viserys to be banished back to Dragonstone. He would be saving Daenerys as well,
though his Aunt had never so much as spoke to him. Jae imagined Viserys had tormented her at
Dragonstone and she was more than happy to use Jaehaerys as her shield. That rankled, but it didn't
mean she had to live with a madman.

Connington would protest, but could he really act like he didn't know? Especially now that Lord
Stannis was in the capital? Jaehaerys would have to move fast.

Viserys had a short temper. He could easily be provoked to do something stupid if only Jaehaerys
could get him angry, only if Jaehaerys provoked him in front of people, they would claim he'd been
asking for it.

No, someone else had to do it. But who? Ser Jaime wasn't an option and Jae had no other friends he
could rely on.

The answer came to him quite unexpectedly on the second day.

He was in the middle of crawling through the passageways, hoping to get to the Small Council
chamber when he overheard a conversation.
''Did you see him run from us, the craven?'' A boy laughed. Jae peeped through a hole in the wall to
find the squires that followed everywhere sitting in the Small Hall, eating lunch.

''Aye, the little shit is a coward, no doubt about that.'' Another squire replied. His name was
Emmon Birch, if Jae remembered correctly. The third son of a minor Lord.

''What was he supposed to do?'' another boy asked. ''There were six of us.'' Jae was much surprised
to hear that.

''What? Are you taking his side?'' one of the Redwyne twins spoke up. If it was Horror or Slobber,
Jae couldn't sure. He forgot their real names and he couldn't tell them apart, besides.

''No,'' the boy said defensively. Jae struggled to see who he was, but he caught a glimpse of a lot of
red crabs on a white shield. A Celtigar then. That was something. They were an important House
of the Crownlands. The boy had to be Terrence Celtigar, Lord Adrian's Son and Heir. ''I'm just
wondering if he should be treating his own kin like that.''

''That fucker is the reason for the Rebellion,'' another squire declared, ''The Prince is right to teach
him his place.''

The squires voiced their agreements but Jae kept his eyes on Terrence. The boy nodded half-
heartedly.

Jae didn't need to listen to anything else. He had gotten his idea.

He hurried back to his chambers and called for Ser Jaime. They had a plan to hatch.

It was late in the evening that Terrence Celtigar returned to his chambers. He looked most
surprised to find Jaehaerys sitting on a chair before his bed, Ser Jaime by his side.

The boy's face quickly paled and his eyes jumped to Ser Jaime's hand which was on the hilt of his
sword.

Jaehaerys' heart was pounding in his chest but he forced himself to keep calm. He'd never done this
but he was sure it would work. There was no other way. ''Hello, Terrence.'' He said.

''Ar—Are you here to kill me?'' the boy stuttered and he was older than Jaehaerys by quite a few
years. Maybe Jae really was a dragon if he could be so scary.

''Kill you?'' Jaehaerys asked. ''No, of course not. I just wanted to talk to you.'' He gestured for the
boy to approach. ''Come, come, take a seat.''

The boy nodded hesitantly and closed the door behind him, his eyes glued to Ser Jaime.

''Don't worry about Ser Jaime, Terrence, he won't do anything.'' He said. It seemed to help a little
bit.

The boy sat down, stiff as a board and stared at Jaehaerys.

''So, tell me, Terrence, do you like Viserys?'' Jaehaerys said as casually as he could.

The boy's eyes went wide. ''Of course, of course I do, he is my Prince.'' Which meant no. Fuck no,
to be precise.

''He's my Prince too, and my Uncle, and I don't like him.'' He looked up at Jaime. ''And neither does
Ser Jaime.''
''Hate the little shit, to be accurate,'' Jaime said with a vicious smile.

''And you know, I've wondered. When I'm not around to torment, and Princess Daenerys is
somewhere in public, does Viserys take out his anger on someone else?''

The way the boy looked down at the floor told him Ser Jaime had guessed correctly. Prince
Viserys didn't have friends, he merely had people whom he hadn't gotten around to bully yet.

''There's nothing to feel bad about, Terrence, it's the man he is,'' Jaehaerys said with a kind smile.
''So I've wondered if there was a way we could make him stop. Make sure he wouldn't bully us
ever again.''

Terrence's head snapped up so fast, it was all Jaehaerys could do not to smile in triumph. ''H—Hurt
him?'' he asked, horrified.

''No, no, he is my kin, Terrence, you must not forget that.'' Jaehaerys said, pausing for a beat, ''But
if he were to be forced to leave King's Landing... that would be quite nice, wouldn't it?''

Terrence asked only one thing. ''How?''

The next day, Jaehaerys was sparring in the courtyard in the middle of the day. Usually, he would
wait until later, because of the number of people milling about, but this time it was the precise
reason he came early.

Ser Jaime was stiffer than usual and it showed in his movements. Not that Jaehaerys could land a
blow on him anyway. After about half an hour, a scream of rage was heard in the distance.

Jaehaerys, along with most in the courtyard, turned in the direction of the sound with frowns on
their faces. Then Viserys emerged from Maegor's Holdfast, looking like a wild beast on a rampage.

''You bastard!'' he screamed, headed straight for Jaehaerys. ''Did you think I wasn't going to find
out?''

Jaehaerys back up, a terrified look on his face. He couldn't get any words out before Viserys' fist
connected with his face and he was sent sprawling on his back.

The kicks followed immediately after. Viserys was screaming the entire time. ''Did you think you
could mock me in front of all these fools and I wouldn't find out, you northern dog!'' and the kicks
kept coming.

He could hear Jaime yell, ''What are you talking about?'' along with many others.

But Viserys kept on kicking him, planting his heel in Jae's face, making his mouth fill with blood.

''I'm going to kill you! Kill you!'' Viserys shouted, heedless of the cries of outrage, while Jaehaerys
did his best not to cry, helped along with a vicious sense of satisfaction building in his chest. He'd
never felt like that before, but he thought he could come to enjoy it.

O-O-O

They were standing in the Small Council chamber. It had taken five guards to drag Viserys off of
Jae, kicking and screaming. He'd been taken to his chambers and guards posted outside his doors
with orders not to let him leave.

Jaime told him Connington ordered it after he was drawn to the courtyard by the commotion.
Better yet, he hesitated to do anything until he saw some of the Baratheon men had drawn their
blades, ready to kill Viserys on the spot.

And now he was standing before the entire Small Council, bloodied and beaten, along with an
enraged Stannis Baratheon beside him. The members of the Small Council were all glaring at
Stannis, with the exception of Lord Varys who was looking at Jae with an amused smirk on his
face. That one knew, Jae was sure of it, it was only a question if he would tell and what it would
mean.

''Is this how the Crown Prince of the Seven Kingdoms is treated in his own home!'' the large man
raged. Jaehaerys really was starting to like him more and more.

''I assure you, Lord Stannis, I had no knowledge of this behavior towards Prince Jaehaerys.'' Lord
Connington said nastily.

''Then you are incompetent. If you cannot even control the household under your control, how are
you to control the Seven Kingdoms?'' Stannis responded. Jae's esteem of him went down a little.
Was he going to use him to wrestle power from Connington? Is that all he was to people? A piece
to be moved around the board?

''I would caution you to watch your tongue, Stag!'' Connington spat. ''Prince Viserys will regret his
actions once he calms down, I am sure of it. He will apologize to Prince Jaehaerys and we will all
move on from this incident.''

''No,''

All eyes swiveled in Jaehaerys' direction. It was the first time he'd spoken.

''What did you say?'' Connington hissed.

''I said no!'' Jaehaerys replied, sounding bolder than he felt. ''You know the truth, no matter how
much you try to lie to Lord Baratheon, and so do I. And so does Ser Jaime.'' He took a deep breath
to steady himself. ''Prince Viserys will be banished to Dragonstone.''

''Who are you to order me!'' Connington shouted, standing from his chair.

Jaehaerys raised his chin, undaunted. This man couldn't harm him, he reminded himself, that's why
he brought Prince Viserys to the capital in the first place. ''I am the Crown Prince of the Seven
Kingdoms. A dragon. You are nothing more than a fool who befriended one.'' Jaehaerys replied,
having prepared that line in advance.

It had the desired effect. All eyes went wide at his words, Small Council members turning to look
at Connington.

The man was trembling with rage. Strangely, he reminded Jaehaerys of Viserys. ''And if I don't?''
he asked in challenge.

''If you don't, Lord Baratheon will take this tale back home. Ser Jaime will wonder out-loud every
chance he gets why our Lord Regent was so unwilling to protect the Crown Prince though he'd
been aware of his mistreatment the entire time. Soon enough, the entire realm will know.''
Jaehaerys looked at Connington angrily. ''And I wonder how my family in the North will feel about
that.''

''Not to mention the common people, when they hear an up-jumped minor Lord, my bannerman no
less, dared to harm a Prince of the Blood. They remember the only reason you're in power is
because you took advantage of the chaos at the end of the Rebellion.'' Lord Stannis seconded
Jaehaerys, the large man and the little boy glaring at the Lord Regent in unison.

His face was so red, Jaehaerys thought his head might explode. The silence was broken by Lord
Varys who said, ''Perhaps the Prince's suggestion is sound. Prince Viserys should be sent to
Dragonstone. Out of sight and out of mind, as they say.''

Finally, Connington gave a nod. So slight, one could doubt he agreed at all.

''But Daenerys stays,'' Jaehaerys pushed on, ''I won't have her at Dragonstone where Viserys can
torment her.''

''Fine!'' Connington hissed, ''Now, begone.''

''You don't order the Crown Prince around, fool!'' Stannis hissed.

''That's quite alright, Lord Baratheon.'' He said, looking up at him with a small smile. ''I was
leaving anyway.''

He glanced at Ser Jaime and the two of them walked out of the Small Council chamber. Jaehaerys'
heart was pounding so hard in his chest, he thought he might throw up, but he also could help the
grin that spread across his face. He had done it! Viserys was gone! People could throw him nasty
looks all they wanted, he wouldn't have to fear anyone beating him up anytime soon.

Lord Baratheon caught up to them soon and Jaehaerys had to school his face. He couldn't appear
too gleeful.

''Thank you for your assistance, Lord Baratheon.'' He said with a grateful smile.

He nodded and looked at him with a raised eyebrow. ''You engineered all of this, haven't you, my
Prince?''

Jaehaerys saw no point in lying. By the looks of it, Stannis hated Connington and Viserys. ''Yes,
my Lord, I did.''

A smile spread across Baratheon's face then, and he nodded in what looked like approval. ''Very
well done, my Prince, very well done indeed.''

Jaehaerys couldn't help but grin at that, his insides warming at the praise from this serious Lord.

After he had gotten his wounds cleaned and stitched up by Maester Alwyn, Jaehaerys made his
way straight to Terrence's quarters. It was the first time in years that he walked through the
corridors without looking over his shoulder.

Ser Jaime told him Prince Viserys would be put on the first ship for Dragonstone the next morning
and was confined until then. Jaehaerys grinned, no matter how much his lips hurt.

He knocked on the door and heard a weak ''Come in,'' from inside. He opened the door to find
Terrence sitting on the edge of his bed, looking terrified. When he saw it was Jaehaerys standing
before his door, he exhaled in relief.

''So, Terrence,'' Jaehaery said, ''Are you ready to become Ser Jaime's squire?''

The boy nodded mutely.

''No,'' Ser Jaime said with a bloodthirsty grin that terrified the boy all over again, ''You're really
not.''

''It seems the little dragon has woken up at last,'' Lord Varys murmured, with that tittering laugh of
his.

The rest of the Small Councill members either nodded in agreement or glared at him.

''He orchestrated this,'' Connington growled, grabbing the arms of his chairs so tightly his knuckles
turned white.

''I told you it was folly to allow Prince Viserys to abuse him,'' Lord Tarly, the Master of Laws, said
in that curt tone of his.

''Admittedly, we all thought problems would arise when the Realm learned of it, not when Prince
Jaehaerys decided to get rid of Viserys himself.'' Lord Varys commented again, sounding highly
amused.

''You almost sound as though you admire him,'' Connington accused.

Lord Varys shrugged, unintimidated. ''I consider him to be what he is; the product of two of the
oldest royal bloodlines in Westeros. Not a meek, witless little boy you clearly took him for, my
Lord Regent.''

''He will pay for this,'' Connington declared, ignoring Varys' words entirely, already cooking up a
scheme.

''And how will he do that?'' Lord Velaryon, the Master of Ships, asked. ''He's gotten rid of the only
person who could touch him. Ser Jaime will have every right to kill anyone threatens his charge
now.''

''And if you haven't understood Lord Velaryon's words, my Lord Regent, you're included in that
statement.'' Lord Varys unnecessarily elaborated. Gods, he hadn't had so much fun in a long time.
''My little birds tell me a certain raven took flight towards Casterly Rock earlier today.''

Connington's eyes snapped towards Varys. There was the first sliver of fear to be found in them.
''And what did it say?''

''Oh, I don't know the specifics, but I'm told there are vague instructions to Lord Tywin, promising
him the Regency in case you should make, and I quote, ''some unfortunate decision''.''

Now the fear was visible for all the Small Council members to see.

''I suggest, my Lord Regent,'' Lord Varys continued, not bothering to hide his gleefulness, ''You
treat Prince Jaehaerys very kindly from now on and be sure to grant any request he may have, or
you might come to learn dragons don't forget those who tried to put them down.''

Watching Lord Connington trying to decide whether he should scream in rage or piss his breeches
was a sight Varys would cherish for a long time. He inwardly congratulated himself for keeping his
mouth shut when he first learned of the emergence of Prince Jaehaerys' inner schemer. He had a
feeling this was but the beginning of a most interesting story.
 Chapter 4

Your father caused the deaths of thousands, you will prevent them.

They looked quite surprised to see him standing before them. They quickly scampered to their feet
and bowed lowed, all of them murmuring, ''Your Grace,''.

''Please, my Lords, my Lady, be seated,'' Jaehaerys instructed with an amiable smile, Ser Jaime an
ever-present shadow at his back.

He had summoned them to one of the unused chambers under the pretense they were going to see
Lord Connington. He couldn't be seen summoning the Lords of the Realm. Not yet at least.

He examined the people in the room. On one side of the table sat Lord Mooton. A prickly looking
fellow with a square head, a receding hairline, and a big nose. Repugnant was the word Jaehaery
would use to describe him. He was a second son, younger brother to the dashing Myles Mooton
who'd died fighting in the Rebellion. No doubt the man never got over his older brother's greater
popularity.

On the other side of the table sat Lord Hawick, an older, tall gentleman with grey hair and a stern
face. He carried himself with dignity despite the situation he was in. Next to him sat his eldest
daughter, Lady Jeyne Mooton, wife of Lord Mooton, though that state of affairs wouldn't remain
for long if her husband had anything to say about it. She was a beautiful woman with copper hair,
fair skin and quite sinful curves under her blue dress.

Her red-rimmed eyes indicated she'd been crying as she stared at him as though trying to decide if
he was her savior or the man who would ruin her.

''You summoned us, Your Grace?'' Lord Mooton asked and despite his foul disposition, he sounded
respectful. The Mooton's remained loyal during the Rebellion, though Jae imagined the man was
being cordial more out of sheer practicality than any real loyalty to the Crown.

''I have,'' Jaehaerys nodded as he stood at the head of the table.

If they wondered why the need for a ruse, they wisely kept silent.

''You're familiar with... our situation?'' Lord Hawick asked, a look of shame passing his face. His
daughter seemed to shrink in her seat.

''Yes, Lord Hawick, I am,'' Jaehaerys confirmed, keeping his tone neutral.

''With all due respect, Your Grace,'' Lord Mooton spoke up, desperately holding back his fury.
''What is the reason behind this meeting? Our issue would be resolved in the coming session of
Court.''

Hm, Jaehaerys wondered, perhaps the man is smarter than he looks. He was sure to get what he
wanted from Connington, but with the well-known animosity between the Crown Prince and the
Lord Regent, it was likely he began to wonder if Jaehaerys would take his side.

''You're quite right, Lord Mooton,'' Jaehaerys said, implacably, ''But I wanted a chance to resolve
your issues in a far more private setting.''

''I would have no problem with Your Grace annulling my marriage to that whore,'' he spat at his
wife, ''But I was given to understand you do not have that power.''

The wife in question did not cower under her husband's hateful glare, her eyes burning with some of
her own.

One has to appreciate the marvel of family, Jae thought wryly.

It was a complicated situation, but then again Jaehaerys was the reason it came to light in the first
place. He needed to give Lord Tully an open port through which he could ferry goods since
Connington had made sure all the others would refuse him. The only port that was a part of Tully's
fiefdom, beside Seaguard, was Maidenpool. But Lord Mooton was loyal and the man would never
do anything to help Lords he considered traitors. Thus, the economy of the Riverlands lagged and
all the resentment left over from the Rebellion festered.

But House Hawick was one of the Houses that joined the Rebellion and they were married into
House Mooton. So if only Jaehaerys could find a way to put them in charge of Maidenpool, it
would solve a great many problems from the Riverlands.

Thus, he was quite pleased when he received word of Lady Mooton's exploits. After dutifully
birthing her Lord husband three sons, she decided to experience some pleasure in her life and chose
to fuck one of her husband's household knights.

Jaehaerys ensured she got caught by her husband and then waited for the man to appear at Court
where he could play his final card.

Because House Mooton had other secrets they wished to keep hidden. They should've known their
proximity to the Crown would mean they fell under the watchful gaze of the Spider.

''You are correct that I do not have that power, Lord Mooton,'' Jaehaerys told him, ''But that is not
why we are here.''

''No? Why then?'' Lord Mooton questioned, somewhat losing control of his temper.

''We are here to discuss your treason,'' Jaehaerys said calmly, watching the man closely. He looked
as though misheard.

''What?!'' Lord Mooton shouted, surging to his feet.

Ser Jaime drawing his sword had him regretting that particular course of action. His eyes widened
in fear and he sat back down with a thump.

''You've been withholding taxes, no? Sending your ships into the Narrow Sea to plunder the
merchant vessels belonging to the Crown. You've even seized three ships belonging to the Royal
Fleet and added them to your own... after some refurbishing, of course.'' Jaehaerys added in the
end, but there was no amusement in his voice.

That made Lord Mooton pale.

''Do you know what happened to the last Lord who dared to do half of what you've done?''
Jaehaerys asked, seeing from the corner of his eyes Lord Hawick and Lord Mooton perk up at his
words. A glimmer of hope was blooming in their chests, Jaehaerys knew.

Lord Mooton meanwhile gaped at him speechless. ''It wasn't just that he was executed, his House
was stripped of all its titles, his family banished from Westeros.'' That squashed any hope on the
faces of the Hawicks. Good, Jaehaerys thought, the more desperate they become, the more
indebted to me they'll feel.

''I've been told you are a man who is proud of his family's legacy.'' Jaehaerys said, eyeing the man
like a predator, ''Is that something you wish to happen to your House.''

Lord Mooton ground his teeth, glaring at Jaehaerys and Ser Jaime as he shook his head.

''Very well, then we shall have to simply make sure it doesn't.'' Jaehaerys said, ''But there's a price.''

''My head,'' Lord Mooton barked.

Jaehaerys scoffed, ''Of course not, my Lord, that would have people asking questions.'' He shook
his head, ''No, no, you will present yourself at Court and inform the Lord Regent that with your
eldest son reaching majority, you've decided to cede control of Maidenpool to him while you will
be taking the Black to do your part for the protection of the Realm.''

''I'm not even sure those children are mine!'' he hissed, remembering why he came to King's
Landing in the first place.

Jaehaerys raised an eyebrow. ''You know perfectly well they're yours, my Lord. House Mooton
will live on through them. Or it won't. Decide what is more important to you; your pride or your
legacy. I suggest you choose wisely.''

With that, he made a dismissive gesture and Lord Mooton got up from his seat and promptly left
the room. Jae did not know which way he would lean. There was rage in his eyes, but desperation
in his posture. He figured only time would tell, though he was fairly certain Mooton would not dare
reveal Jae's machinations to Connington.

That left Lord Hawick and his daughter who looked at Jaehaerys in disbelief. Judging by the
calculative look in his eyes, Lord Hawick already deduced what would come next.

''You will take control of House Mooton and you will open Maidenpool to trade from the
Riverlands, is that understood?'' Jaehaerys told them, his voice like the crack of a whip.

''Aye, Your Grace.'' Lord Hawick nodded, an indecipherable look in his eyes.

''But—but isn't it against the law?'' Lady Mooton asked, wringing her hands nervously as she
wondered if she would go from an adulteress to a traitor.

''Not specifically, no. It is merely frowned upon by our Lord Regent as he seeks to punish all the
rebels. But Lord Regent shan't rule for much longer and once my royal brother returns from Dorne,
I shall do my utmost to convince him of the important part Houses Mooton and Hawick played in
ensuring the stability of the Realm.'' Jaehaerys told her. He'd gotten quite good at this officious
way of talking in the past three years.

''Thank you, Your Grace, thank you so much,'' Lady Mooton sobbed, quickly wiping her tears.

''You are very welcome. And not to worry, my Lady, you can bed whomever you like now that
your Lord husband won't be around to protest.'' Jaehaerys said with a cheeky smile, making the
woman blush before he nodded at Lord Hawick and made his way out of the chamber.

As Ser Jaime closed the door behind him, he asked, ''Do you think King Aegon will see it that
way?''

Jaehaerys shrugged. ''I have the faintest,'' he said, but he certainly hoped so. His brother was
supposed to have come from Dorne a year ago to slowly begin to take the reins of power, yet in
Dorne he stayed.

Jaehaerys wasn't stupid enough to think that could mean anything good. The Martells were keeping
him hidden, for one reason or another. Rumors were circulating, some claimed Aegon was a
weakling, others claimed he was an insatiable whoremonger. Martells knew those rumors would
start. That they kept Aegon hidden in spite of them made Jaehaerys worried. Very worried.

But he would find a way, as he'd done so far. Or he'd end up assassinated by a brother convinced
Jaehaerys planned to supplant him. He wouldn't be the only one who thought so. Jaehaerys had
learned it was impossible to convince people he had no wish of ever becoming King. Not that he
had any particular aversion to power. He liked it, very much so, and needed it even more, but there
were different forms of power and the one granted to you by sitting on the cursed chair was the
worst of all. It was too limiting. A King has to rely on what others tell him. It severely limits one's
opportunities for political maneuvering while painting a giant, shiny target on the King's behind.

He could do without and spend the rest of his life pulling the strings in the background.

O-O-O

''You are certain of your decision?'' Lord Connington asked, sitting high on the Iron Throne.
Jaehaerys stood to his left, as the sole representative of the Royal Family, while the Small Council
sat on the right.

It was a usual day at Court, at least usual by the standards set since the end of the Rebellion, in that
there weren't too many nobles present. Some of the Lords of the Crownlands, other influential
knights and the merchants of King's Landing. Other Lords of the Realm tended to mostly shy away
from King's Landing these days. Those who fought for the Usurper, because they knew they'd find
no welcome here. Those who were loyal, because they were so pissed at Connington for his
moronic edicts, and were waiting for the day King Aegon assumed his Throne. There were a lot
more lickspittles and social-climbers at the start of Connington's tenure, but once they'd seen how
unpopular Connington was becoming, they all slithered back into their holes. They, too, were
waiting for Aegon to return to King's Landing before they sought to gain favor from the Crown.

The nobles present who lived outside of the Crownlands came because they had no other choice.

Jaehaerys looked down on the kneeling figure of Lord Mooton as the man nodded his head. It was
good of him to do it since it was the only way he would keep it. ''I am, my Lord.''

''Very well,'' Connington sighed. It appeared the political ramifications had yet to occur to him.
''The Crown thanks you for your long service to the Realm and wishes you good fortune on the
Wall.'' He said and dismissed the man with an impatient wave of the hand. Lord Mooton glanced at
Jaehaerys, but Connington did not notice, too busy asking Grand Maester Pycelle if there were any
remaining notices.

But some of the other courtiers noticed and Jaehaerys found himself on the wrong end of many
curious gazes. He kept his composure and did not let his irritation show. The man would be
leaving for the Wall soon and that would be the end of it.

Connington was about to announce Court would adjourn for the day when the doors of the Throne
Room opened. The herald banged his staff and cried, ''Prince Oberyn Martell, the Red Viper,
Prince Sovereign of Dorne and Princess Arianne Martell, Heir to Sunspear!''

The Red Viper strolled down the middle of the Throne Room, whispers spreading in his wake, as
he swaggered forth, a self-satisfied smirk on his face. This one was dangerous, Jaehaerys could tell
at a glance. His niece walked beside him, wearing such skimpy clothes it was all Jaehaerys could
do not to laugh at the scandalous looks on the faces of the Ladies of the Court. The voluptuous
beauty had a glint in her eye as her eyes found Jaehaerys and he quickly came to understand why
she came.

He'd been expecting someone important for moons. An unknown benefactor had been paying off
the servants and knights of the Red Keep to spy for them. He had made sure some of those bought
were his own spies in case he needed to spread some misinformation.

It looked like his foresight would be paying off.

The two Dornish royals came to a stop before the Iron Throne. Prince Oberyn bowed, mockingly
so, while Princess Arianne curtsied, revealing a delicious amount of her cleavage.

''Prince Oberyn, Princess Arianne, welcome to King's Landing,'' Connington said formally. No
doubt the man was wondering if they'd come to check his power. Jaehaerys would happily support
them if that was the case.

''A pleasure to be here, Lord Regent,'' Prince Oberyn said before his lips curved into a smirk as his
eyes landed on Jae, ''And may I say it is an honor to meet you at last, Prince Jaehaerys.''

Jaehaerys inclined his head. ''The honor is mine, Prince Oberyn. We are most pleased to host a
warrior of your renown in King's Landing.'' He replied in a measured tone.

''I do hope our sudden arrival shan't be too much of a nuisance,'' Oberyn said, that arrogant smirk
still present on his face. So they were hoping to catch him off-guard?

''Not at all, Prince Oberyn. I daresay the surprise of your arrival only makes the pleasure of your
presence all the sweeter.'' He swiftly let the Prince know he had surprised no one. He fought the
urge to smirk as well and won for it would not be wise to appear too challenging.

The Prince's smirk vanished, but it was replaced by a thoughtful look, rather than one of anger.

''May I inquire as to the reason for your presence?'' the fool known as Lord Regent actually
deigned to ask out-loud.

Prince Oberyn raised an eyebrow at that. ''I am a member of the Small Council am I not?'' he asked,
which was true, though no one could decide what the man's role was, ''And my beloved niece here
was most anxious to visit King's Landing for the first time. I have never been able to refuse her.''

The Princess at his side smiled seductively at her uncle's words. Jaehaerys noticed there were a
great many knights who couldn't get their eyes of her bum. Oh, the gossip that would stem from
this little encounter would keep the courtiers busy for weeks.

''Of course, of course,'' Lord Connington backpedaled, ''Chambers shall be prepared for you and we
shall hold a feast in your honor this evening.''

''You are most kind, my Lord,'' Princess Arianne purred and curtsied again before she and her uncle
stalked out of the Throne room.

Well, Jaehaerys mused, no one ever said life at Court was supposed to be boring.
 Chapter 5

He was sitting on the dais, pretending to enjoy the impromptu feast Connington ordered and
amused himself by picturing the panic of the servants when they learned of it. The Small Hall,
right next to the Throne Room, was commandeered for the occasion. To his right sat Lord
Connington, ignoring Jaehaerys as always, but also serving as a useful shield from the Martells.
Beyond them sat Princess Daenerys, eagerly conversing with Arianne. On the two seats to his left
sat Lord Royce, who'd come to ask the Crown to approve of the match between his only daughter
Ysilla and Ser Gilwood Hunter, the Son and Heir of Lord Eon Hunter.

Next to Lord Royce sat Ser Kevan Lannister, who'd come to Court to ask another favor on behalf of
Lord Tywin Lannister. Jaehaerys' ploy to keep Connington on his toes with the threat of Tywin had
somewhat backfired as the Old Lion had used the threat as leverage to negotiate numerous trade
deal with the Crown that heavily favored the Westerlands.

''I've heard your son Robar has won the tourney for Lord Arryn's name day, Lord Royce,''
Jaehaerys kept the small-talk going as he took a sip of wine. Though only four-and-ten, it was
acceptable for him to drink during feasts and he'd come to be grateful for it. It worked wonders for
his ability to tolerate it all. ''Most impressive.''

Bronze Yohn's chest swelled with pride as he nodded, a smile on his face. ''Aye, my Prince, he
does his House proud.''

''Indeed he does,'' Jaehaerys agreed and was honest about it too. He had met Ser Robar a year back
and found he liked him. ''I got a chance to spar with him during his stay in King's Landing. That
sword arm gave me no small amount of grief.''

Lord Royce laughed at that. ''Aye, he told me about that, my Prince. Said you were one of the
finest swordsmen he had ever seen.''

Jae waved his hand dismissively, ''Simply on account of being trained by the likes of Ser Jaime, not
any measurable talent, I assure you.''

Lord Royce nodded with a smile and if he thought to criticize Ser Jaime, he knew better. Jaehaerys'
regard for the Lion of Lannister had become well known across the Realm and few dared to insult
the man within Jae's earshot.

He leaned forth then and regarded Ser Kevan, who was eating and drinking almost mechanically
while his eyes examined the nobles present.

''Ser Kevan?'' Jae got his attention, ''I had heard of your son's terrible bout with the flu. I do hope
Lancel has recovered.''

That cracked the old knight's mask somewhat. ''He has, Your Grace, and thank the Gods. Thank
you for asking.''

Personally, Jae thought Lancel to be a preening little shit with no small amount of arrogance and no
skill or intellect to back it up. But then he could hardly say so to the boy's father who seemed quite
fond of the lad, though Jaehaerys would never know why.

He had to pretend he cared though and he knew asking people about their families and surprising
them with his knowledge did great things to boost their loyalty. Not that it would ever make a
difference with the Lannisters. It was more for the likes of Lord Royce that he made sure to keep
informed of all the goings-on.

''It gladdens my heart to hear you say so, Ser.'' He said with his best version of a kind smile. Again,
it wasn't meant for Ser Kevan. It was meant for all those who'd see it, convincing them of the
graciousness and kindness of the Crown Prince.

But then a man walked into the Hall, carrying a harp with him and his stomach dropped.

He'd been wondering why Prince Oberyn had come to the capital but instead of asking, like the
fool Connington, he set up a bait and waited to see if the Viper sunk his fangs into it.

One of the spies Oberyn thought his had told the man Jaehaerys practiced day and night to master
the harp in the hopes of showing the people of Westeros how much like his father he was. Oberyn
was also told Jae was failing miserably.

If Oberyn took the chance to try to embarrass him, Jae would know the Prince had come to curb his
influence and do his utmost to get in his way.

He sighed. This was one trap he'd hoped wouldn't work.

Like clockwork, Prince Oberyn got to his feet and addressed the Hall, all the while keeping those
smug eyes on Jaehaerys.

''Prince Jaehaerys,'' he said, his loud voice quieting all in the Hall, ''I had heard of your musical
prowess even down in Dorne and couldn't help but ask you for the chance to hear it for myself.'' He
did a fair imitation of a sheepish smile, ''I do apologize for my whimsical nature.''

The nobles in the Hall exchanged confused looks. As far as they knew, Jaehaerys had never played
the harp in public before. They'd never heard of any supposed prowess on his part either.

Jaehaerys, acting hesitant, said, ''I suppose I could play a short little song.''

''Please,'' Oberyn said, his smile vicious, as he gestured to the harp.

Jaehaerys got up with a sigh and walked around the dais. A chair was brought out for him and he
sat behind the harp, strumming the strings to ensure it was properly tuned.

Once he was ready, he took a deep breath and began playing. A heavenly melody emerged from
beneath his light touch, filling every part of the Hall and gaining the attention of all.

High in the halls of the kings who are gone

Jenny would dance with her ghosts
The ones she had lost and the ones she had found
And the ones who had loved her the most

The ones who'd been gone for so very long

She couldn't remember their names
They spun her around on the damp old stones
Spun away all her sorrow and pain

And she never wanted to leave, never wanted to leave

Never wanted to leave, never wanted to leave

They danced through the day

And into the night through the snow that swept through the hall
From winter to summer then winter again
'Til the walls did crumble and fall

And she never wanted to leave, never wanted to leave

Never wanted to leave, never wanted to leave
And she never wanted to leave, never wanted to leave
Never wanted to leave, never wanted to leave

High in the halls of the kings who are gone

Jenny would dance with her ghosts
The ones she had lost and the ones she had found
And the ones
Who had loved her the most

By the time the song came to an end, the Hall was as silent as a crypt, with many a young maiden
weeping. The silence was broken when a knight by the name of Ser Hugh stood up and began
clapping. The rest of the Hall promptly followed the nobles all getting to their feet. Jaehaerys gave
a perfunctory smile and bowed, before returning to his seat.

On his way, he glanced at Prince Oberyn who was looking at him through narrowed eyes. He did
not smile triumphantly, he did not smirk. He gave the Prince a look that clearly conveyed his
disappointment. Mayhaps it would be enough for the Viper to see there was more to Jaehaerys than
another power-hungry fool.

The surprising part was the pale face and gaping mouth of Connington as he stared at Jaehaerys. It
would do good for him to remember whose son Jaehaerys was, not that it mattered anyway.
Jaehaerys would enact some sort of retribution the moment Aegon took the Throne, whether his
brother approved or not.

Connington, Jaehaerys had long-ago decided, was the one man he'd never make peace with.

He sat down and for the remainder of the feast, he nodded politely at people's compliments, ate
little and drank less.

He excused himself at first opportunity and returned right back to his chambers, his mind spinning
with implications. If Oberyn had come to make a fool of him, that must mean Aegon thinks him a
threat. It must mean the dornish hate him and will do anything in their power to get rid of him.

Jaehaerys, having studied his histories extensively, knew better than most what happens to second
brothers who are considered a threat. He would be fortunate to only end up on the Wall. For a few
moments, he had to odd urge to run away and leave the Seven Kingdoms to go to hell, as he knew
they would.

Remember Viserys, he thought himself and the urge passed. He could not run, and he could not
think only of himself. Your father caused the deaths of thousands, you will prevent them.

Jaehaerys was good at making friends. He wouldn't have such influence at Court if he did not. He
could turn Prince Oberyn into a friend, should the Viper prove himself a man of reason and
Jaehaerys had no cause to think otherwise. A mad-dog with Oberyn's flair for dramatics would not
have survived long enough to have a strand of silver hair.

But how? He wondered as he sat down at his desk. He'd arranged much more luxurious chambers
since he brought Viserys low. These days, his chambers had a bedroom, a bathroom, and his own
study. A round room, the walls stuffed to bursting with all the books he had acquired, and a
balcony behind his desk with the view of the city below.

He poured himself another glass of Arbor Gold and thought. If he tried to use any covert means it
would no doubt only further Oberyn's belief of Jaehaerys' scheming ways. But there is something
no one expects from a schemer; bluntness.

Oberyn was said to be a man who loved his family dearly. He brought eight bastard daughters into
his brother's home, how could he not? So if Jaehaerys were to explain to him the perilous state of
the Royal Family, make him understand that his nephew would be in mortal danger from the
moment his royal butt touched the Iron Throne, mayhaps he would see that Jaehaerys was no the
real threat.

It was his best bet. One simply cannot make friends by use of political maneuvering. Not because
it is the wrong thing to do, but because of the risk involved. Jaehaerys considered it to be a last
resort of sorts.

Sighing, he took another sip of wine when his musings were interrupted by a knock on the door.

''Come in,'' he called with a frown, wondering who would disturb him at such an hour.

The door opened to reveal silver hair before anything else. Jaehaerys smiled as his aunt Daenerys
glided forth, a vision of ethereal beauty. She'd changed quite a bit since Viserys was banished from
the capital. She was once a guarded, haughty Princess who hated her brother and looked down on
everyone else. These days, she still hated her brother, but she had changed her perspective on the
people around her, mainly because Jaehaerys gave her a detailed explanation of why they'd all be
lucky to die of old age.

He couldn't have a Princess of Dragonstone walking around doing even more damage.

''I didn't hear anyone knocking on the door of my chambers,'' Jae said, but he was betrayed by his
lips which stretched into a smile.

Dany rolled her eyes and sat in the chair in front of his table, smiling as well. ''I didn't bother. I
knew you'd be in here.''

''Hmm, I see, I have to work on my unpredictability,'' Jae said with a smile, but suddenly the
weariness of the day caught up to him. ''I'm always happy when you grace me with your presence,
aunt, but I was about to go to sleep. Can this wait until tomorrow?''

''Can what wait until tomorrow?'' she asked.

''Whatever brought you to my chambers this late at night,'' he grinned mischievously, ''Or are you
here to seduce me?''

Dany snorted as he poured himself another drink and one for Dany as well. ''No,'' she said, ''But
Princess Arianne is.''

Jaehaerys nodded, ''I see.'' He handed Dany her cup, ''Is she supposed to bed me, force me to wed
her and take me back to Dorne?''

''I imagine that's the plan, yes.'' Dany agreed, looking at Jae teasingly, ''She is very... sensual.'' She
purred the last word in imitation of Arianne.

Jae nearly spat out his drink in laughter, ''Aye, that she is.''
''Are you certain those tits won't hypnotize you? Men do foolish things when they think with their
cocks, you know?'' she asked, eyeing him wryly over the edge of her cup.

''We won't know until it happens, I suppose,'' Jae shrugged noncommittally.

Dany hummed after she drained the last of her cup. ''Whatever you do, don't picture her on her
knees with her lips wrapped around your cock.''

As it happened, that's the exact image that popped into Jae's mind and a part of him he didn't know
existed stirred at the thought of it.

It must've shown on his face as Dany threw her head back and laughed, saying, ''You don't stand a
chance. Do enjoy the rest of your life in Dorne.''

She's trying to make sure my pride overcomes my lust, Jaehaerys realized in a flash. My, my, the
little Princess is all grown up. ''You've become tricky, Dany.''

''Says the man who played Prince Oberyn for a fool today,'' Dany replied, throwing her silver hair
over her shoulder, ''Are you sure that was a good idea?''

''It had to be done,'' Jaehaerys shrugged, ''I had to learn why he's come.''

Dany sighed, ''Gods, just when I was hoping someone was going to geld Connington.''

Jae laughed at that. ''Not yet, Dany, not yet.''

''Whatever you say,'' she said, ''Anyway, I just wanted to make sure Arianne's arse didn't distract
you from the reason behind its presence.'' Jae chuckled at her dry tone. ''Have a good night, Jae.''
 Chapter 6

He found Prince Oberyn in the courtyard the next morning, sparring against three different knights
and making the lot of them look like fools. He observed from a distance for a while, noting there
was nothing amused in his expression, no trace of the smirk Jae'd been seeing the previous day.
Oberyn Martell was not a man to take matters of combat lightly, it seemed.

When the three knights found themselves face-down in the dirt, Jae decided it was time for him to
reveal himself. He stepped into the open of the courtyard and, as though feeling his presence,
Oberyn turned on his heel, that infernal smirk back in its place.

''Most impressive, my Prince,'' Jaehaerys said, his back straight as an arrow with his hands behind
his back. It was imperative he carried himself in the manner of a Prince. If he showed any sort of
weakness, he knew Prince Oberyn would notice and ruthlessly take advantage.

Oberyn made a dismissive sound. ''This is naught but child's play, my Prince.''

Jaehaerys allowed a small curve of the lips. ''I see the stories of your prowess were not
exaggerated.''

''A rare occurrence indeed,'' Oberyn replied and eyed Jae up and down, ''But it happens.''

Jaehaerys could only wonder what they said about him down in Dorne.

''Is there a reason you've decided to visit me, Prince Jaehaerys?'' Oberyn asked. Whether he was
being rude out of a lack of patience or a desire to test him, Jae did not know, but he had learned that
one cannot make assumptions too early when playing the games of the court.

''I was hoping we could talk, Prince Oberyn,'' Jae said, polite as ever.

''Then talk away, my Prince,'' Oberyn replied. Ah, so he is testing me.

''In private, if you will.'' Jaehaerys continued to keep his temper in check.

It was then that Princess Arianne appeared in the courtyard, dressed even more promiscuously than
the previous day. She wore what seemed to be little more than a strip of silk to cover her nipples,
showing the curve of her perfect tits for all the world to see. Her flat belly was laid bare and her
intimate parts covered by two more strips of silk, one to cover the front and one to cover her ass,
while her hips and legs remained bare. She wore a great deal of jewelry, a gold necklace with a
diamond pendant that rested between her breasts, rings adorned her fingers and golden serpents
wrapped around her wrists, snaking up her forearms. Her brown curls fell freely to her shoulder,
framing her aristocratic features.

She was dressed liberally even by Dornish standards, Jae knew. Though he'd normally think any
woman dressed in such a way to be nothing more than a wanton whore, the way the Princess
carried herself gave the impression of a woman who'd risen beyond the petty norms of polite
society.

''A Royal request, nuncle,'' she said with an amused smirk, ''You dare not refuse.'' She licked her
lips when she looked at Jae and said, ''Though I was hoping I could join you for this little talk.''

''I have no issue with it,'' Jae said, glancing at Oberyn to see what he thought. He was hoping the
Prince would refuse her, but he dared not show it to the man since it would guarantee the Princess
coming along.

Either Oberyn saw right through him, or he genuinely didn't care, for he said, ''But of course you
should join us, niece. I have yet to explore the gardens, I do hope they haven't gone to rot since I
was here last.'' Like everything else, remained unspoken.

They made their way out of the yard, through an archway and straight into the Godswood. The
Princess had cozied up next to Jae, holding his arm as she leaned against him. She was much
shorter than he was, so every time Jae looked down at her, he was also being given a prime view of
her cleavage.

Jae had never been one to have a hard time resisting girls.

Maybe because they weren't even interested in seducing me, he reminded himself ruefully. He may
have garnered some influence at Court, which led to many a young Lady desiring to get in his bed,
but they never tried too hard. He was like Connington in a way, since his time in power may very
well last right up until the point Aegon takes his Throne.

But with this vixen on his arm, he could very well see himself cracking if the woman was given
enough time to work her magic. He couldn't help but picture the softness of her skin, the taste of
her...

He blinked rapidly in quick succession, dislodging such thoughts and focusing on the man to his
left. The Princess noticed his discomfort and giggled girlishly.

''So what is it that you wanted to talk to me about, Prince Jaehaerys?'' Prince Oberyn asked,
sounding bored as he plucked a flower and examined it as though it was far more interesting than
the Dragon Prince at his side.

''I wanted to inquire if you are aware of the situation in these Seven Kingdoms your nephew will
one day rule.'' Jaehaerys began, wanting to establish an understanding of the dornish perspective on
the Seven Kingdoms.

''If you are asking if I am aware of the ineptitude of Connington, then yes, my Prince, I am and so
is my nephew,'' Oberyn said, but his bored voice showed that he really wasn't or he wouldn't be
acting bored.

Before replying, Jaehaery had to give Arianne a sharp look, raising an eyebrow in reprimand, when
she put her hand on his chest as though to feel his muscles. She swiftly pulled her hand back as
though burned and looked at the ground. Acting repentant to stir my sympathies, no doubt,
Jaehaerys dismissed her and focused on the Prince who had observed the interaction.

''I see,'' he murmured and a picture appeared in his mind. It was worrisome.

''What is it that you see, my Prince?'' Oberyn drawled as they passed the oak weirwood tree that
was supposed to symbolize the Royal recognition of the Old Gods. The Targaryens had built the
Sept of Baelor to honor the vanity of the Seven, but couldn't even be bothered to plant a proper
Weirwood Tree in honor of the Old Gods, and then had to gall to wonder why the northerners had
nothing but scorn for the Crown.

''You think Connington to be of no consequence, yes? King Aegon will simply arrive to King's
Landing, undo all his foolish decisions and that will be the end of it. All there'll be left to do is get
rid of me and the reign of King Aegon the VI will be secured.'' Yes, that was exactly what they
thought and the flicker of surprise on Oberyn's face only confirmed it. They thought they could
operate as usual, the same courtly intrigues and battles for power that have plagued the Crown
since Balerion's breath created that damnable chair.

They were very much mistaken.

''And what makes you think King Aegon would wish to get rid of his beloved brother?'' Prince
Oberyn asked and Jae noticed from the corner of his eye Princess Arianne pull a face at that. Did
she have a problem with Aegon or the superfluous wording?

''A certain song I sang yesterday, for one,'' Jaehaerys said, eyeing Oberyn through hooded eyes,
''You see, unlike our dear Lord Regent, I am not actually stupid enough to ask what you are doing
here out-loud.''

''Which begs the question,'' Arianne spoke up for the first time, her serious tone at odds with her
faux-innocent demeanor. ''Why request a private conversation?''

''My niece raises a good point,'' Oberyn agreed and they both looked at Jae in unison.

''A desperate attempt, I suppose,'' Jaehaerys said with a sigh, ''For you to listen to my words and
hopefully heed what I'm trying to tell you.''

''And what's that?''

''That if major steps are not made in the way of reunifying this country, King Aegon will not live
long enough to have children of his own.'' Jaehaerys immediately regretted his choice of words.

''Is that a threat?'' Oberyn hissed.

Jae raised his hand placatingly, ''Peace, my Prince. He won't be the only one. Neither will I, neither
will Daenerys and neither will Viserys.'' He looked him right in the eye then, ''This country has
been through the bloodiest war this continent has seen in generations for what many consider to be
a pointless reason.''

''Thanks to your Lady mother,'' Oberyn accused. He was well and truly ticked off.

''Be that as it may,'' Jaehaerys said, swallowing the pang of hurt at his words, ''Aegon is to be King
and he will carry the burden of our father's legacy as much as I will. Those with intent to harm the
Royal family will not discriminate in killing a son of Lyanna Stark or Elia Martell. They will be out
to kill dragons, and so they will be coming for us both.''

''I gather you there is a point to all this?'' Oberyn asked, but Jaehaerys had his full attention now.

''You showed your cards yesterday, my Prince. You are an influential man in Dorne. If the Royal
Family and the people of Dorne did not perceive me as a threat to begin with, I am sure you made
them come around to your way of thinking.'' Oberyn hid his chagrin quite well. ''So I tell you this
now; I do not want the Throne, I do not want to be King. And if you do not believe my word, trust
the fact that I cannot afford to plot against my brother, for even if I were to be successful, I would
not long outlive him. The Royal Family cannot afford to fight an internal battle, we cannot even
afford to appear to be fighting one. For outsiders will take immediate advantage of it and pounce.''

''Which outsiders would that be?'' Arianne asked, a trace of arrogance in her tone, ''All the realm
knows the Dornish stand behind Aegon and the Starks will never move against the Throne while
you are the Crown Prince. Arryn is old and feeble and with an incompetent Heir. It seems to me
the only threats come from the Lannisters and the Tyrells, both of which can be solved through
marriage.'' She smiled, quite satisfied with her argument. ''Besides, the spears of Dorne will
throwback anyone who might threaten Aegon.''

''A good ruler would never allow it to get that far.'' Jae snapped back and took a deep breath to
steady himself, ''And while it is true marriage would solve many issues, the problem is both
Houses desire the same marriage; to King Aegon. The family that doesn't get it will be first in line
to overthrow him.'' Jaehaerys began to dismantle her argument. ''And you forget about Stannis
Baratheon. The man will never start a rebellion on his own, but I doubt he would hesitate to join
one if the chance for it presented itself. The Riverlands are full of hatred for the Targaryens over
the Usurper's Rebellion and Jon Arryn, old though he may be, is still a skilled Lord Paramount
whose lands have suffered terribly under Connington. It would be in the interest of his people for
him to put an end to it.'' He looked the Princess right in the eye and said, ''Which would leave
Stannis Baratheon making sure those spears of Dorne you speak of so proudly can't even get out of
the deserts, while King Aegon is left to fend off three Lords Paramount with nothing but the armies
of the Crownlands and whichever House he marries into.''

''An elaborate plot you weave, my Prince,'' Oberyn said, his casual tone back, though he seemed far
more tense. ''But a great many things would have to go wrong for that to happen.''

''Depends on who you ask,'' Jaehaerys countered, ''If I was one of the Lords Paramount, I'd
slaughter us all and marry my Heir to Daenerys, thus solidifying my claim.''

''The Lords Paramounts are not as treacherous as you make them seem, my Prince, nor do they
court war,'' Oberyn said though Jae wasn't sure he believed it himself.

''Are you sure, my Prince?'' Jaehaerys asked, ''How loyal would you be to the Crown if your own
nephew wasn't in line to be the next King?'' That drove home his point and drove it hard judging by
the way Oberyn's expression turned grim.

Jaehaerys hoped it would be enough.

O-O-O

Your father caused the deaths of thousands, you will prevent them.

A sword came rushing at his head and Jae ducked under it, taking a step forth and hitting the man
behind the knee, making it buckle. He looked up and deflected the down-swing of the second man
and, rolling his wrist, he quickly brought the sword back in the air and slashed downwards, hitting
the man on the wrist, making him drop his sword. The third man he could not avoid. The best he
managed was to lean to the side so that his shoulder took the blow rather than his head. He knew
that if it was a real battle, he'd be lucky to keep his arm.

Ignoring the sting of pain, he launched a flurry of attacks on the third man until he, too, was
disarmed and on the ground.

He was panting heavily and his body ached all over. They'd been going at it for hours and still, he
did not want to quit. If there was to be war, he could not depend on Aegon's martial prowess and so
had to make sure he was the best warrior he could be. He wasn't lying when he told Lord Royce he
wasn't a great swordsman due to any measurable talent. Swordplay was perhaps the only thing Jae
truly struggled with but he refused to give in to it, forcing himself to work for hours and hours each
day to get as good as he could get.

He would never attain the graceful deadliness of Ser Arthur and Ser Jaime, he knew, but he
managed to make up for it by learning things even the two of them didn't know. Jaehaerys had a
Bravoosi swordsman instruct him in the fine art of Water Dancing for a year. He had a Dothraki
screamer teach him the Dothraki fighting techniques and how to best fight on horseback. He even
purchased and freed an Unsullied, having the eunuch teach him to master the spear in exchange for
his freedom.

Most importantly perhaps, he studied. At the end of the day, a blade is a lever and if one
understands its workings, he instantly gains an advantage. Jae had studied the angles and the
forces. He knew exactly how and where to strike the opponent's blade to make him lose grip of the
sword. It was those tricks he mastered that most often gave him an advantage over swordsmen like
Ser Jaime, who for the most part relied on their instincts,

These days, it was a close match between him and Ser Jaime and Jae lost as often as he won. He
was as deadly as the Kingslayer, he just didn't look as dashing while doing it.

''Enough for one day, my Prince,'' Ser Jaime said from the edge of the courtyard where he'd been
watching the fight. ''You should stop before you get hurt.'' It was true Jae was taking more
punishment with each round of fighting as the weariness set in, but he also knew battles do not end
when you become tired.

''Afraid of me even me even when I'm exhausted, Ser Jaime?'' he asked with a grin, trying to hide
his tiredness.

Ser Jaime smirked and pulled a tourney blade from the rack, ''When you're hurting all over before
you go to bed, remember you asked for it.''

Jae snorted, ''As if a puny little lion could land a hit on me,''

''I suppose I should be afraid of an over-grown lizard if only he could breathe fire.'' Ser Jaime
quipped as he got into a fighting stance. People were oft shocked when they heard the two of them
banter, but Jae found it helped forget about his status if only for a little while.

Jae twirled his sword and said, ''I still have my claws,''

''It is a good thing de-clawing men is my specialty,'' Ser Jaime countered and attacked. The knight
liked nothing more than to prove why he was one of the deadliest men alive every chance he got
and Jae's words only egged him on.

He wasn't trying to win the fight. His muscles were burning with exertion, his legs felt heavy and it
was that feeling he was trying to get used to. That feeling he wanted to overcome until he was able
to fend off a swordsman of Ser Jaime's caliber in spite of it.

Though he was, for the most part, kept on the defensive, he used every trick he knew to keep Ser
Jaime on his toes, to make him wonder where the counter-attack would be coming from. It was an
efficient way to stop the knight from going all out and try to overwhelm Jae, for it would certainly
work. Minutes went by and Ser Jaime still did not land a hit. Jae knew he was growing frustrated
and so he waited patiently for the mistake, for the opening that would give him a chance at victory.

And then Ser Jaime went for a vicious thrust at his face and he found his chance. He jumped
diagonally to the right, Ser Jaime's thrust passing harmlessly over his shoulder. But when he was
supposed to jump back to the left and finish the knight off with a swing to the head, his weariness
showed through and he slipped on the sand. His legs could no longer support him and he crumbled
to the floor like a pathetic fool.

He could do nothing but lay down on the ground and wait for some strength to return to his legs.
He felt the tip of Ser Jaime's sword press to his neck. ''Yield?'' he asked, though his standard smug
look was nowhere to be found.

''I yield,'' Jae nodded, breathing heavily.

''Told you you've had enough for one day,''

''Luckily for you, or you'd be in dream-land right now,'' Jae shot back, not at all disgruntled at
losing for this was the best he'd ever done in such a state. His ability to tolerate pain was improving
daily.

''True enough,'' Ser Jaime nodded, a rare show of approval, ''A daring move, I like it, though you
might end up decapitated if your opponent should expect it.''

''You could say that about any move,'' Jaehaerys grunted as he got back to his feet, doing his best to
avoid looking at the faces of all the servants and knights present. No doubt they were all trying not
to laugh and doing a poor job of it.

''I'm going to get a bath,'' Jaehaerys said, ''You get some rest as well, I'll see you tomorrow in time
for Court.''

Jaime nodded and bowed to him, though it was clear he was mocking him, ''As you say, my
Prince.''

Jae rolled his eyes and left, shaking his head in exasperation. He ordered the maids to draw him a
bath but they'd gotten so used to it that it was already waiting for him by the time he reached his
chambers, steaming hot and filled to the brim.

He stripped of his clothes, soaked with sweat, and lowered himself into the bath, loving the feeling
of the scolding hot water on his skin. He slid into the bath up to his neck, rested his head on the
edge of it, and allowed his thoughts to wonder.

It had been a fortnight since his talk with Prince Oberyn and Princess Arianne and there'd been no
movement since. Jaehaerys had observed closely to see if the Prince meant to get rid of any of Jae's
allies at Court. It was a well-known fact that Commander of the City Watch, Ser Addam Velaryon
and the Master of Coin, Lord Florent, were both Jae's allies who were appointed due to his political
maneuvering.

If Oberyn had wanted to curb Jae's influence, certainly he would have gone out of his way to get
rid of them, especially Ser Addam. The man who controls the City Watch is the man everyone
turns to when turmoil erupts.

So his gambit worked and Prince Oberyn looked to be taking his words of caution seriously. It was
a small victory but an important step forward, because Oberyn could be the conduit between Jae
and Aegon, could be the one who helped make sure his older brother did not view him as a threat.

He allowed himself to relax, knowing there was no point in worrying about the challenges he had
yet to face. His eyes became bleary and he slowly drifted to sleep while soaking in that steaming
bath.

He woke when he heard the door to his chamber opening and closing. A person approached the
bath and he waited until the last moment before his hand lashed out, grabbing a thin arm and
pulling the person into the bath, pressing the dagger in his right hand to her throat. Her throat.

He was quite surprised when instead of an assassin, he found the Princess of Dorne suddenly in his
lap, those sheer straps of silk so wet they no longer protected her modesty. Her brown eyes were
wide with fear, though she quickly schooled her features when he pulled his blade away from her
throat.

''When the Crown Prince of the Seven Kingdoms publicly dismisses his only guard for the night,
he does not do it by mistake, Princess.'' He told her. He and Ser Jaime had caught their fair share of
cutthroats that way. The only reason Arianne got that far was because Ser Jaime allowed her to.

He let go of her arm, expecting her to scamper out of the bath as quickly as she could.

But he forgot who he was dealing with as the Princess licked her lips, grabbed him by the
shoulders and pulled herself up. She spread her legs, sitting back down on his lap, right on top of
his cock.

''My, my,'' she purred, ''It truly is all tricks and traps with you, isn't it?'' she asked.

Those tits were pressing against his chest and she began grinding against his cock which rose to the
occasion despite his best efforts. But then the truth of the situation dawned on him and he pushed
her off of him, rising from the bath.

He looked to the door. Oberyn would be coming through them at any moment, he knew. He didn't
even have to fuck the Princess, all they had to do was catch him in a compromised position. A
naked Princess in his bathtub definitely counted as one.

She most likely wasn't a virgin anymore, so it'd be easy to say it had been Jaehaerys who took her
maidenhead. He'd fucked up royally and he would pay for it.

''Calm down, my Prince,'' she purred, making herself comfortable in the bath as she laid on her
back, those beautiful tits sticking out of the water. ''No one is coming through the door, there is no
plot at work.'' Her eyes trailed down his body, ''Though something else seems to be.''

Jaehaerys rolled his eyes, still not sure she wasn't playing him, but far more open to the idea. He
pulled a towel from the chair next to the bath and wrapped it around his waist. ''I'm sure being so
sexually open is a good way to catch nobles left and right off-guard, but you'll have to try harder
than that in my case.''

''So I see,'' she said with a smirk, ''I always like a challenge.'' She got up from the tub, those three
straps of silk that were passed off as a dress clinging tightly to her body. It only made her more
irresistible and Jaehaerys couldn't help but admire her flat stomach, the curve of her hips and those
round tits. She stepped out of the bath and walked to him, hips swaying.

She put her hand on his chest and leaned closer, whispering in his ear, ''Working so hard to keep
the realm at peace, do you ever get the chance to relax?'' she asked, her hand snaking down his abs,
''I know you think I'm here to seduce you and take you back to Dorne, but you'd have to fuck me
for that.'' She smiled coyly, ''But there's nothing dishonorable about me wrapping my lips around
your cock.''

She pulled the towel away, revealing his erect shaft and wrapped her fingers around it, slowly
starting to stroke it.

She was trying to slowly get him to bend to her wishes. She wanted to suck his cock this time,
hoping he would be aching to fuck her next time. Jaehaerys had no intention of that happening, but
that didn't mean he couldn't relax this time around. She was right, a little cock-sucking on her part
would be harmless and he'd only done it once when he seduced a maid to make sure he knew his
way around a woman's body.
He could allow himself this small bit of pleasure.

Arianne did not wait for his response, dropping down to her knees, her ass looking all the more
enticing as it pressed against her heels. She continued to stroke him as she began to lick his length,
slowly making her way up the shaft until she took the crown in her mouth. Jae grabbed her luscious
black hair and began to guide her up and down his shaft and the Princess took all of it with ease,
taking his cock to the hilt. He briefly wondered how many cocks she'd sucked before him, but
dismissed such thoughts, preferring to focus on the Rhoynar Goddess currently doing her best to
make him cum.

The maid he'd fucked couldn't suck cock like this. Arianne was sensual about it while at the same
time deepthroating him like a whore and it wasn't long until those lips brought him to the edge of
an orgasm. He pulled out of her mouth and began stroking himself, while those lips went to his
balls, sucking and licking them, hoping to coax the seed out of them.

He came with a groan, Arianne pulling back and opening her mouth wide. Some of his cum landed
on her face, some in her mouth, some in her hair. When he was done, she took him back in her
mouth and sucked the last few drops from his cock.

She smiled coquettishly up at him, using her finger to wipe the cum off her face and licking it
clean, all the while keeping eye-contact with him.

This woman would be the death of him, Jaehaerys decided.

Hours later, they were laying in his bed, both of them naked as the day they were born. Jaehaerys
had long since forgotten about ideas of Oberyn barging into the room, too busy exploring Arianne's
body while she did her best to make him forget himself.

He ended up with a cup of wine in his hand, sitting upright in bed, while Arianne was laying on her
stomach between his legs, her feet in the air as she licked and kissed his length, stripes of dried
cum all over her face and tits.

''He respects you, you know,'' she said. Somewhere along the line, their conversation turned to the
matters of the Kingdoms. ''I think that's why he was so worried for Aegon.''

Jaehaerys raised an eyebrow. ''And how did I manage to earn the respect of the Red Viper?''

She huffed in amusement, kissing his crown. ''I forget you grew up in the Red Keep, isolated from
the rest of the Kingdoms.'' She gave his length a long lick. ''You do not know what they say of
you.''

''That I'm the northern-blooded reason for the war?'' he asked and took another sip of wine.

''Some,'' she confirmed and the expected hurt wasn't there. The was his life began couldn't be
changed, but the way his life turned out could. Your father caused the deaths of thousands, he
repeated his old mantra, you will prevent them. ''Mostly in the Westerlands and the Reach because
they're hoping to earn Aegon's favor. The rest sing a different tune.''

''It's funny they think they'll earn the King's favor by insulting his brother,'' Jaehaerys said, the
wine he drank made him careless and far too open with his thoughts. He excused his bluntness by
telling himself it would only help if he revealed his true self to the Princess, hoping she would take
the knowledge back to Oberyn.

She shrugged, unconcerned and laid on her back, giving up on trying to coax his cock back to life
for the fourth time. ''You've proven yourself formidable, so they all expect Aegon to hate you.''
''If I'm so formidable, what are you doing naked in my bed?'' Jae asked, aware of how he'd feel in
the morning.

''Helping you enjoy yourself for the first time in your life, most likely,'' Arianne replied, shooting
him a cheeky grin. She was right, too. How she succeeded in letting go of himself so, he didn't
know.

Those tits will do that to a man, he told himself but did not voice his thoughts. The Princess was a
strange combination of a cheap slut and a most highborn lady.

''Be that as it may, you should be returning to your chambers,'' Jaehaerys said, some of his common
sense returning to him.

The Princess looked at him in mock outrage. ''You would have me walk the halls of the Red Keep
naked at night.'' She covered her breast as though horrified by the thought of anyone else seeing
them. ''Some guardsman might take advantage of me.''

''You make it sound as though you're looking forward to it,'' Jaehaerys replied.

The Princess wasn't joking, though. She got up from the bed with a huff, wrapped a towel around
her body and walked to the door. ''I'll have you know, I may act like a whore for you, but no one
else.'' She said, opened the door and disappeared through them.

Ah, so this is where you draw the line? Jaehaerys thought to himself. It was cleverly done, making
him think he was so special to warrant such treatment for her. Undoubtedly she expected him to
come and beg for forgiveness the next day.

Crafty, crafty, little princess.

He would have to control himself. Aware as he was of her manipulations, it did not help him resist
them so far and if he allowed things to escalate, he would end up in the very situation he hoped to
avoid. She might've done her best to make him calm down this night, but Jae had no doubts she
would seek to take advantage of it tomorrow.

Too tired to think, he slid down into his bed and hoped he would be strong enough to resist it.
 Chapter 7

Standing in the Throne Room, Jaehaerys sleep-walked through another session of Court. He
comforted himself in the knowledge that Oberyn looked even more bored than Jae felt, while
Arianne would shift restlessly in her place, glancing at Jaehaerys every once in a while. The two
hadn't talked in the two days since their little tryst. She expected him to come to her, begging for
forgiveness and another tour of her body, but Jaehaerys did not, would not.

Though the Princess had awakened a part of him that was well-suppressed, and though he was
tempted, he resisted on account of sheer will. He would not be another man who allowed himself
to be manipulated by a cunt. He would not.

So he did his best to focus on Lord Staunton prattling on about how Lord Buckwell had illegally
seized some mill only he gave a fuck about. If Connington did not find a peaceful resolution, there
would be blood. The histories only record the major wars, the ones that included at least one of the
Great Houses, but they ignore the minor ones. Petty disputes as they are called are dismissed as
insignificant.

But they're not. A great battle like the Battle at Trident might leave tens of thousands dead, but
these minor disputes kill dozens, sometimes hundreds of men. Great battles may happen once in a
generation, while every other moment some minor Lord or landed knight wishes to kill one his
peers over some ridiculous slight.

''According to our records,'' Grandmaester Pycelle rasped, shuffling his parchment, ''The Plotter's
Mill was granted to House Buckwell by King Jaehaerys the Second. It rightfully belongs to House
Buckwell.'' He informed the irate Lord Staunton.

''Aye, Grandmaester, but I had negotiated a lease with Lord Buckwell which granted me control of
the mill for ten years. I had paid the fee in advance, yet now Lord Buckwell has deigned to renege
on our agreement only five years into the lease while refusing to return half of the gold I paid him.''

Well, at least we know who is in the wrong, Jaehaerys thought right up until the point when Lord
Buckwell stepped forth.

''I put an end to our agreement because Lord Staunton used the mill as headquarters from where he
sent marauders to rob and murder my people, Lord Regent.'' He spoke up, glaring frostily at Lord
Staunton. ''And I've decided to keep the gold as restitution.''

Oh, for fuck sake, Jae thought. There's going to be blood.

Which means this is your opportunity, whispered another part of him.

''What do you have to say to that accusation, Lord Staunton?'' Connington asked and it was obvious
he was agitated. Never a good sign.

''It is not my fault Lord Buckwell cannot maintain law and order in his lands and I won't stand for
these baseless accusations.'' He seethed.

''Do you have proof of this, Lord Buckwell?'' Connington continued.

''Nothing but the confessions of the men who were captured.'' Lord Buckwell replied.

So who was lying? They both had reason to. Staunton could end up executed if Buckwell was
telling the truth, whereas Buckwell himself may have invented the story to justify his seizure of the
mill. The two Houses had a long history of bad blood and each generation tried to avenge the
insults given to the previous.

Jaehaerys watched them both. Staunton was a man of average height, well in his years and with a
belly to show it. He looked to be a drunkard judging by his red cheeks and clearly couldn't control
himself if his demeanor was anything to go by.

Buckwell wasn't much taller than Staunton, and about the same age, but their different approaches
to life were clear. Buckwell was slim, he maintained his composure and his eyes held the
unmistakable glimmer of intelligence.

So what was it? Was Staunton, who'd reportedly gotten into a lot of debt, trying to dig himself out
of a hole by plundering his neighbor's lands, or was Buckwell taking advantage of an incompetent,
alcoholic neighbor?

Either he would learn more, or he could very well just flip a coin and see where it lands, thus
deciding who's telling the truth.

''You are both noblemen, Lords of the Realm. The Crown shall not interfere in this matter since we
are sure you will be able to resolve this matter in a peaceful manner.'' Connington was washing his
hands of the whole affair. He did not know who was telling the truth and did not want to make the
wrong decision.

The man never knew how to handle a dispute between loyalist Houses, only when the question of
what to do with a dispute between a loyal house and a rebel one did he show himself decisive. Jae
wondered how many loyalists had taken advantage of it over the years to steal from their rebel
opponents.

He watched the reaction of the two Lords to Connington's words, but neither of them showed any
satisfaction. One of them had to be a good actor and no matter how badly Jae wanted to be able to
deduce the truth only based on their behavior, he could not. So there was only one thing left to do;
decide who would be the better ally.

Buckwell was the more formidable of the two but if he had instigated the whole affair only to now
be saved by Jaehaerys, Buckwell would never respect Jaehaerys. He might even come to think
Jaehaerys a person he can fool.

The same thing went for Staunton. These drunkards love to brag about any minor victory and he
would undoubtedly mock Jaehaerys in his cups. Besides, he was incompetent so his flimsy loyalty
wouldn't be worth much to begin with.

''If I may, Lord Regent,'' Jaehaerys spoke, keeping his eyes on the two Lords, ''I do not believe the
Crown should remain impartial in this matter.'' He watched them closely, for the one who thought
he'd almost gotten away with it would surely reveal his colors. He was still holding out for a
chance at justice. Sure enough, a brief look of unadulterated hatred passed over Staunton's face. ''I
do not believe my brother, King Aegon, would approve of any unnecessary bloodshed, least of all
on lands that are under the Crown's direct vassalage. Am I correct in this assumption, Prince
Oberyn?''

''Indeed you are, my Prince,'' Oberyn confirmed, lounging in his chair. ''Any violence would
heavily frowned upon by the King.''

And thus, the Court was put on notice. Prince Jaehaerys and Prince Oberyn were on the same page
and it brought Jae no small amount of satisfaction to see it dawn on the courtiers present.

''So perhaps it would be better if the Crown acted as a mediator in solving this dispute,'' Jaehaerys
continued, keeping his eyes on the man.

''And how do you propose we do that, my Prince?'' Connington sneered. He did not appreciate
being upstaged by Jaehaerys.

He should be bloody well used to it by now, Jae thought arrogantly but did not spare a glance at
Connington.

''If you don't mind, my Lords, I have some questions,'' he said, as though Connington hadn't spoken.

Buckwell looked at him expectantly, while Staunton grit his teeth and clenched his fists. If
Buckwell was lying, it was the best acting Jaehaerys had seen yet. Men tend to keep their
composure when all goes according to plan, but when something unexpected happens, most get
rattled. Everyone knows the stakes when you play the Game of Thrones.

And those who kept their composure in spite of the risks are the most dangerous men around. He
dearly hoped Buckwell wasn't one of them.

He walked down the stairs that led to the Iron Throne. The end of the Throne Room was elevated,
so that courtiers and people visiting did not only look up at the King but also at the Royal Family.

Jae put his hands behind his back and descended the stairs, doing his best to portray the image of
an implacable, stoic Prince. An intimidating presence could go a long way in forcing a person to
make a mistake. Lord Tywin came to mind.

He examined the two men, careful to look for any signs of cracking masks. Lord Buckwell held
under his scrutiny with ease. Was that because he was telling the truth or because Jaehaerys wasn't
as intimidating as he would like to be?

Staunton did his best, but his stiff stance, the slight trembling of his hands were obvious to all who
were paying attention.

''If I may, Lord Staunton, for what purpose did you lease the Plotter's Mill?'' he asked, face blank.
The rest of the Court was quiet and while Jaehaerys observed the two Lords, they observed him in
turn. He would have to get a better idea of what these people thought of him one of these days.

''It sits on a stream that much eased my efforts to bring goods into my lands,'' Staunton replied,
some of his confidence returning to him.

Jaehaerys nodded and turned to Lord Buckwell, ''And how long have these raids been going on?''

''No more than a week, my Prince,'' Buckwell replied, ''I've received reports of merchants being
ambushed on the road and immediately rode out to track the outlaws with my men. Those who
survived the fight told us they were attacking on Lord Staunton's orders.''

''And what makes you think the Plotter's Mill served as their headquarters?''

''They told us so and we attacked the Mill, finding other outlaws using it as shelter.'' Lord Buckwell
replied with a wince.

''You did not mention that at first.'' Jaehaerys observed with a raised eyebrow, ''Why not?''
''Because he's lying!'' Staunton exclaimed. He was making very hard for Jaehaerys to remain
impartial.

Jae looked at him sharply and that look of satisfaction disappeared from Staunton's face. ''You will
not speak unless spoken to, is that understood, my Lord?''

Staunton clenched his jaw and nodded, clearly displeased. Jaehaerys looked back at Buckwell, still
waiting for a response.

''I had thought my word on the matter would be sufficient,'' Buckwell replied, uncowed. It was a
good tactic if he was lying, to act insulted at having your word questioned. Or mayhaps he's a
proud Lord not used to be treated in such a way.

People tend to get a headache when faced with courtly intrigues such as these, but Jaehaerys
enjoyed them. They were like puzzles waiting to be unraveled.

''And normally it would be,'' he sought to pacify the man, ''But when two noble Lords of
impeccable reputation accuse each other of lying, special measures need to be taken.''

''Of course, my Prince, I understand,'' Buckwell replied and bowed his head. He was saying all the
right things and for some reason, it made Jaehaerys all the more suspicious. Staunton may well be
innocent, yet too stupid to know how to appear so.

''So, to summarize,'' Jaehaerys continued, ''Lord Staunton allegedly ordered his men to attack
merchants traveling your lands and yourself, Lord Buckwell, as any good Lord would do, quickly
responded to threat and tracked it to the Plotter's Mill.'' Jaehaerys began to pace before them, their
eyes following him. ''So I cannot help but wonder; what has changed in the last two weeks that
would suddenly make Lord Staunton want to risk his head for some plunder?''

The answer came from an unexpected source. ''My Prince,'' a voice came from the side and his
eyes found Lord Rykker stepping forth, ''What's changed is that Maidenpool has opened its gates to
trade goods of those Houses who fought for the Usurper during the Rebellion. I wager Lord
Staunton can no longer smuggle goods into the Riverlands for they do not need them.''

''You know this how, Lord Rykker?'' Jaehaerys questioned.

''My people have often seen barges sailing up the stream, my Prince. I reported as much to the Lord
Regent.'' Lord Rykker said, looking at Jaehaerys with something in his eyes Jae could not identify.

Jae turned and looked back to Connington who was sitting on the Iron Throne, his face a stone
mask. So the man wasn't trying to wash his hands of the affair, he had wanted to keep his
involvement hidden. Connington probably did not care that Staunton was smuggling goods into the
Riverlands, since the Lord had to have charged extortionate prices, thus making himself rich and
further draining the Riverlands.

''Lord Buckwell, what do you have to say about this?'' he asked.

''I cannot prove it myself, but I agree with Lord Rykker's assessment, Your Grace,'' Buckwell
replied steadily.

What was the chance of those two being in on it together? Rykker's lands neighbored on those of
both Staunton and Buckwell. Staunton had no living Heir, his son having died during the
Rebellion. Did they hope to divide his lands between them?

It was Connington's involvement that assuaged those concerns. They had to be telling the truth, or
he'd be on his feet, yelling he'd never received any notice of the sort.

Jaehaerys looked to Ser Addam Velaryon, the Commander of the City Watch and nodded.

''Men of the City Watch,'' Ser Addam shouted, ''Seize Lord Staunton.''

Four men surrounded Lord Staunton and dragged him out of the Throne Room, all the while
Staunton pleaded for mercy, declaring he was innocent.

Men who are innocent do not beg for mercy, Jaehaerys thought grimly as he nodded to Buckwell
and returned to his position to the right of the Iron Throne. A warm feeling filled his chest. He'd
prevented the deaths of a great many people.

Another step forward.

''Who's next?'' Connington asked impatiently, eager to put the matter behind him.

''A man of the Night's Watch has requested an audience, my Lord,'' Pycelle informed him as a man
clad in all black stepped forth, holding something in his hands wrapped in cloth.

''I imagine you are here to ask if there are prisoners who wish to take the Black?'' Connington
barked.

''I am, my Lord, but that is not why I bother you this day,'' the man said with a bow.

''What is your name, man?''

''Yoren, if it please m'lord,'' he nodded to Connington, ''and my Prince.'' He bowed to Jaehaerys.

Jaehaerys nodded to him respectfully.

''And what brings you here then, Yoren?'' Connington asked, agitated from the previous petitioner
and taking it out on the brother of the Night's Watch.

''I've come here on the orders of Maester Aemon of Castle Black, m'lord.'' Yoren replied, ignoring
Connington's tone. He must've dealt with rude lordlings before.

''Aemon Targaryen?'' Jae questioned, intrigued. ''My Great-Grand Uncle?''

''That would be him, yes, my Prince,'' Yoren replied.

''And why did Aemon Targaryen send you to King's Landing?'' Connington asked. He was paying
attention now as was the rest of the Court, that cloth in Yoren's hands becoming an object of
intense speculation.

''Maester Aemon tasked me with bringing a gift for Prince Jaehaerys,'' Yoren said and held up that
piece of cloth.

Jaehaerys frowned and stepped forth again, taking the cloth from Yoren's hands. Gripping it, he got
an idea of what the cloth hid. He slowly unwrapped it, hands shaking until a scabbard was
revealed, followed by the hilt of a sword. It was golden, the cross-guard fashioned into two roaring
dragons, red rubies adorning their eyes.

He drew the sword from its sheath, the dark steel and trade-mark ripples along the blade showing it
to be a Valyrian Steel sword. And there was only one Maester Aemon could get his hands on.
The Court around him gasped, but it was the reaction of one man in particular that Jaehaerys was
interested in. Prince Oberyn's eyes had narrowed, jumping between Jaehaerys and the sword and
coming to the very conclusion Jaehaerys had hoped to avoid.

''Dark Sister,'' someone in the crowd breathed in reverence.

Yoren nodded in agreement and pulled a letter from his jerkin. ''Maester Aemon also sent you a
letter, My Prince, along with a message I was to convey personally.''

Jaehaerys looked at him expectantly as he said, ''Bloodraven sends his regards.''

O-O-O

Is it worth it? he wondered.

''It is a marvelous sword,'' Ser Jaime commented when he saw Jaehaerys looking at it with a
conflicted look on his face.

Sitting in his chambers, Dark Sister in his laps and an oiled cloth in his hands, he wondered. The
Court had exploded in a flurry of whispers at Yoren's words. Why had Aemon sent the sword to
Jaehaerys instead of Aegon? Why return the sword to the Royal Family now? And the two most
pressing questions of all; why did Bloodraven want Jaehaerys to have the sword? And how did he
know Jaehaerys would be born, when the man died some forty years past?

Jaehaerys knew not the answers to any of them, but they all thought he did. He saw the glances,
overheard the conversations. Most thought it was all part of his plan to supplant his older brother,
others said Maester Aemon must have gone senile.

Jaehaerys loved the sword. It was so slim and so light, perfect, it would give him a great advantage
over any foe. But Aemon must not have been aware of the situation at Court, for he unwittingly
ruined Jaehaerys' tender alliance with Prince Oberyn who quickly decided he'd been fooled by Jae.

Ser Addam Velaryon was dismissed as the Lord Commander of the City Watch a day later and
Lord Florent was ousted as Master of Coin to be replaced by some Dornish lickspittle. The good
news was that most of the Lords of the Realm did not appreciate the post of Master of Coin, not
understanding its importance. If they did, they'd be busy howling for blood, since all economic
policies were sure to lean heavily in favor of Dorne where before Lord Florent had been fair to all
the Kingdoms as much as he could be under Connington's watchful eye.

Oberyn would not see him. He dared not refuse outright, but he was never to be found wherever
Jaehaerys was, always busy with some important task or some such. Jaehaerys knew Oberyn did
not even want to give him a chance to convince him this was not some grand plot at work, for he
thought he'd been fooled once and would not allow himself to risk it a second time.

He eyed the letter in his hands, terrified at the thought of opening it. Whatever Aemon Targaryen
wanted to tell him, it was sure to only bring him more heartache, more suffering, and pain. He'd
been putting off reading the letter for a day until Ser Jaime raised an eyebrow and said, ''I never
thought you to be a coward.''

That had ended his hesitation, but still, he trembled to open it.

With gritted teeth and a weary sigh, he broke the seal and unfurled the letter.

My dearest nephew, it began.

I am sorry the most I can do is send you a letter. My sight has abandoned me, and all I can do is
but try and offer you my wisdom.

I have seen four generations of Targaryen's come and go and know you face challenges few of
them had before. I know the weight of history pressing down upon your shoulders, know you must
feel it more keenly than any of us had at your age. But I would like to remind you there is more to
the Targaryen legacy than Mad Kings and Dreaming Princes. Our family had produced great men
and weaklings, had seen its ups and downs, but our contributions to the Seven Kingdoms cannot be
disputed. Remember, nephew, that for all the evil our family has done, there has been good in its
acts as well. We united Westeros, we took seven squabbling Kings and united them under a single
banner.

It might seem hard to appreciate to a young man such as yourself, but know that many owe their
lives to the existence of our Dynasty.

Yet, I fear you are to face our greatest challenges. The Seven Kingdoms linger on the edge of the
sword; faced between destruction and peace. If half of what I've heard of you is true, you know this
to be true.

It will be up to you, my dear nephew, to hold the Realm together. I wish I could offer you words of
comfort, but I know your destiny has been writ in blood, and I fear you know the same.

I ask of you – beg of you – not to give up on your family's legacy. If our House falls, this continent
will return to its blood-soaked roots. But if we were to persevere, peace may yet find its way into
these lands. And I fear the difference between the two hinges upon your choices, nephew.

I trust that if anyone can make the right decision, it is the child of Ice and Fire, the descendant of
Old Valyria and the First Men.

I apologize to put such weight upon your young shoulders but know I would not do it if I had any
other choice.

They will oppose and they will disapprove, you must know this, and the Dark Sister may prove
useful in that regard. Bloodraven always said it was meant for the ''dragon with ice in his veins''.
May you use her to put all the enemies of prosperity into an early grave.

But beware; Dark Sister has a thirst for blood.

Fight, Jaehaerys. Fight for the greater good of the Seven Kingdoms and destroy all who would
stand in your path but never forget; it is better to defend what you love than to attack what you
hate.

Your Great-Grand Uncle, Maester Aemon of Castle Black.

P.S.: You are not alone. Your ancestors smile down upon you, wolf and dragon alike.

Tears streamed down his face when he came to the end of the letter. There was someone out there,
leagues away at Castle Black, who understood. Jaehaerys longed for the times Aemon had grown
up in, during an era where there were more Targaryen's than anyone knew what to do with. Back
when the people of the Realm felt some semblance of love for the Targaryen's, for putting an end
to the endless wars. The Lords felt loyalty to their Lieges, knew who it was that united the realm
and remembered the times when dragons soared the skies. Now we are as mortal as the rest of
them.

But no one could deny him the knowledge that there was more to his family than mad uncles and
potentially resentful brothers. He had an uncle, however far removed, and the old man saw in him
the chance for this realm to be saved, instead of the cause for its demise.

Swallowing heavily, he wiped his tears just in time as a knock came upon his door. They creaked
open without him having to say anything to reveal Daenerys. She closed the door behind her, a
sympathetic look in her eyes.

''Are you okay?'' she asked, moving towards the seat opposite him.

''Of course,'' Jae put on a practiced smile, ''I've just been handed a legendary blade.''

''I heard Oberyn ousted Velaryon and Florent.'' She commented, still watching him closely.

''Aye,'' Jae nodded, gritting his teeth, ''As far as the dornish are concerned, I'm planning to usurp
Aegon.''

He heard her mutter a curse under her breath and couldn't help but smile. ''What's to be done now?''

Jae shrugged. He had no idea.

''Oh, come now, there must be something,'' Dany demanded.

''Would you trust me if you were him?'' Jae asked and the look on her face answered his question.

''Maybe I can help,'' she said brightly. She was trying to cheer him up and he loved her for it.

''Sure, why not,'' he muttered.

''Hey,'' she cried indignantly, ''I can help, he'll trust you with his life by the time I'm done with
him.'' She raised her chin defiantly, ''Just you wait.''

Jae laughed, watching her with a fond look in his eyes. ''If you say so.'' He said, ''It makes no
matter, it will all come down to what Aegon thinks anyway.''

''Gods, I hope he's not an idiot,'' Daenerys breathed and Jae had to bite his lip to keep from
laughing. ''But don't worry, I'll help you with him as well.''

''You know they may not trust you either.''

''We're all dragons,'' the look in her eyes told him she would not be dissuaded from this notion.
''And if Aegon doesn't know it, then we'll teach him.''

The door creaked open again, this time revealing Princess Arianne. She was wearing an actual
dress this time and she strode into his chambers as if they were her own. She looked quite surprised
to find Daenerys there as well.

Jae raised an eyebrow and said, ''Does no one knock when coming to visit me?'', doing his best to
contain a smile.

Arianne froze in place for a moment under the scrutiny of two Targaryens, but spotted the corners
of Jae's mouth twitching, and shrugged indifferently. ''A nasty habit, I fear.'' She looked to
Daenerys, ''Wonderful to see you, my Princess.''

''And you,'' Daenerys replied with a polite nod, ''I don't suppose you're here to tell Jae that Prince
Oberyn has changed his mind.''
''I'm afraid not,'' Arianne said, her tone neutral.

''More's the pity.'' Dany lamented, standing from her seat, ''I will leave you two alone. Jae,'' she
nodded to him, ''Princess Arianne.'' And left, giving Arianne barely enough time to curtsy. Dany
showed much more restraint than she would have only a couple of moons ago, but still not enough.

Arianne glided down the table sat down in the chair Dany vacated, leaning back and crossing her
legs. She grabbed the pitcher of wine and poured herself a measure, even as Jaehaerys watched her
through guarded eyes.

''A quaint little knife,'' she commented, glanced at the Dark Sister and took a sip of the wine,
''Worth the price of my uncle's hatred, I hope.''

''I imagine not,'' Jaehaerys opted to indulge her banter. It was the only distraction available to him.

''And just as you were doing so well,'' Arianne cooed, pouting childishly.

Jaehaerys snorted in spite of himself. ''Aye, I was starting to get my hopes up.''

''So what will you do now?'' she asked the same question as Dany.

Jae shrugged. ''I suppose I'll cross my fingers and hope Prince Oberyn realizes I'm not stupid
enough to alienate him by having Dark Sister brought to King's Landing in the open.''

''He does not think you so stupid,'' Arianna said, shaking her head. ''He thinks you so brilliant,
convincing him this was the independent act of an old Maester, while you go on plotting under his
nose.''

Jae ran his hand through his hair, sighing in desperation.

''I imagine the idea of fucking me and going back to Dorne seems intimately more tempting,'' she
quipped, leaning forth in her chair to give him a better view of those infernal tits.

Jae rolled his eyes, ''Beautiful as you are, I'd much rather die here than live to see the Kingdoms go
to hell.''

She huffed in frustration, leaning back in retreat. ''You northerners, I'll never understand you. Such
bland lives you live. Honor and duty and no enjoyment and then you go off to die for some
allegedly noble cause and that's all there is to your lives. You might as well have some fun before.''

She had a point but it was part of her manipulation, so what did it matter. ''Fun with you would
mean I wouldn't get to die for my allegedly good cause, Princess.'' He said, watching her over the
edge of his cup.

''You've lived in King's Landing for too long, its made you impervious to all forms of wonderful
manipulation.''

''You say that as if it's a bad thing,''

She shrugged elegantly, ''Everyone gets manipulated, its only matter who does it and why.''

''I suppose I shall have to find someone else since I am not too fond of the idea of spending the rest
of my life in Dorne,'' Jae said.

''You wound me, my Prince,'' Arianne replied, a look of hurt on her face all of a sudden. The
woman is as mercurial as they come. ''You think I would lay with you like some common whore
on the simple say-so of my father? No,'' the corners of her lips curved into a small smile, full of
promise. ''I have much more... interesting plans for you.''

''Well, spit it out, will you?'' Jaehaerys said with a grin, ''I'd like to know what I'm getting myself
into.''

''Ah, ah, ah,'' she laughed, ''Good things come to those who wait, my Prince.'' She purred.

''Mayhaps I will resist all your suggestions and hints only to spite you, then.''

''And mayhaps that's exactly what I'll want you to do.'' She returned and took another sip of wine.

''Ah, is there no mercy for a poor Prince,'' Jaehaerys bemoaned, ''Is one Prince of Dorne not enough
for me to worry about?''

Arianne laughed, ''I'm guessing this is your first attempt at stirring up sympathies,'' she smiled
warmly. ''I suggest you adopt a slumped posture next time, it works wonders.'' she drained the last
of her wine, ''Besides, I am certain you are already working on some plot to convince Oberyn of
your good intentions.''

Jaehaerys huffed in frustration. He'd wracked his brain trying to just that, but plots and good
intentions did not go well together. Whatever he did would only leave Oberyn more convinced Jae
was trying to get him to drop his guard.

''I don't think plotting will get this done,''

''What will you do then?'' she asked as she stood from her seat and glided to him.

''Wait and see, I suppose,'' Jaehaerys said, looking up at her. She spread her legs and sat in his lap,
leaning forth to peck him on the cheek.

''Maybe I'll help you convince him,'' she breathed in his ear.

''In exchange for what?'' Jaehaerys asked, cursing himself for how desperate he sounded.

Arianne threw her hair over her shoulder, running her hand down the side of her neck. Jae gave in.
He kissed her neck, felt the blood rushing to his member. Next, her hand moved to her cleavage
and Jae's lips followed. Then she pulled on her dress, revealing her large, dark nipple. Jae licked it,
his hands subconsciously moving to her plump ass as she moaned.

She was his only way into Oberyn's confidences and he could only thank the Gods she had her own
schemes to involve him in.

As her dress slid down her body, he wondered what would be the true price of regaining Oberyn's
trust.
 Chapter 8

He stared at what remained of the straw dummy, wide-eyed. By his side, Ser Jaime was laughing
his arse off. After another grueling session of Court, Jaehaerys had gone to the courtyard to test his
new sword. He'd taken one swing at the straw dummy and cut through it with such ease, the force
of his swing made him stagger. With a normal blade, the weight he put behind the swing would
have barely cut through half the dummy. The Dark Sister went through it like piss through snow.

''This is Valyrian steel, my Prince,'' Ser Jaime chided, ''It's sharper than any normal blade.''

Jaehaerys glared at him. ''I knew that, thank you very much,'' he said, examining the blade closely,
''Sharper than ordinary steel is one thing, but this thing looks like you could cut down trees with it.''

Jaime just shrugged and kept his eyes on the sword, the same glimmer of awe in his eyes that
Jaehaerys spotted in the eyes of everyone since he strapped the sword to his hip.

It was only beginning to dawn on him what kind of a sword he would get to wield for the rest of
his life. Prince Aemon the Dragonknight had wielded this blade. Prince Daemon had slain Prince
Aemond the Kinslayer with it during the Battle Above God's Eye. Gods, Visenya Targaryen
wielded this sword.

Jaehaerys had rarely felt like a Targaryen, always feeling there was a distance between and the rest
of his family; mayhaps because he didn't have the looks, but then again maybe because he never
had a family member who made him feel like one of the dragons.

But now he bore the same sword some of the greatest Targaryen's who ever lived had wielded. He
was the successor, next in line to men like Bloodraven, like the Dragonknight. It was enough to
have his hands tremble with anxiety over the burden, and his heart burst with pride. Because
he was one of them and history was sure to make note of Prince Jaehaerys Targaryen, his
legendary blade and all the things he did with it – good and bad.

He wondered if one day, another Targaryen Prince would look at this sword and dream of wielding
it just like Jaehaerys.

He shook his head at the ridiculous thought.

''It's said Valyrian steel makes any swordsman thrice as dangerous,'' Jaime murmured with a smile.
He'd been smiling since Yoren had given Jaehaerys the sword and Jae had no idea why.

''I don't know why you look so pleased,'' Jaehaerys quipped, ''It means you're fucked when we
spar.''

Ser Jaime laughed, ''I see my Prince has become arrogant, but never worry, the noble Lion of
Lannister is here as always to set him straight.'' He said, sweeping into a low bow.

''Another time,'' he said, sheathing the Dark Sister, loving the comfortable weight against his hip,
''Come, it's a beautiful day, let us have a drink.''

Jaime nodded and the two made their way to his chambers. They sat down on the balcony, looking
over all of King's Landing and the Blackwater below. It was peaceful there, the sun shining on
them and a slight breeze keeping them cool.

It was in moments like these that Jaehaerys was reminded how fortunate he was.
''I heard the maidens whispering most scandalous things recently,'' Ser Jaime said slyly, ''Of certain
Princesses sneaking from the chambers of Crown Princesses, wearing precious little.''

Jaehaerys had the grace to blush.

''You bedded her?'' Jaime asked, blunt and to the point.

''No,'' Jae shook his head ruefully, ''We... had fun.''

And then that famous Lannister smile showed it face, wide and beaming. ''A good thing too,'' he
said, raising his cup in a toast.

''It's...'' Gods, he was stammering like some green boy. ''I had to do it.''

Jaime barked in laughter, ''Ah, I see, playing with those tits was all part of you doing your duty to
the realm. I'm sure it was a chore.''

Jaehaerys wanted to smack him over the head, yet he couldn't help his lips curving into a smile. ''I
suppose you are right,''

''Bah, Jaehaerys, you need not hold yourself to such a high standard.''

''What do you mean?'' Jaehaerys asked with a frown.

''I know how you think, Jaehaerys,'' Jaime eyed him with a knowing look, ''Aegon the Unworthy
couldn't keep his cock in his pants, the Young Dragon was arrogant, Daeron the Good was too
bookish, Aegon the Fortunate too idealistic.'' He threw Jae's own words back at him, ''I know how
you think, lad,'' Jaehaerys wanted to snap that he was no 'lad' if it didn't only serve to prove Jaime's
point. ''You look at people in terms of strenghts and weaknesses and no one more than yourself.''

Jae's first instinct was to become defensive and argue it wasn't true. He'd learned, though, that
whenever people's words made him feel as though he was stabbed, they were usually onto
something.

Jaime nodded in approval as though he could read Jae's mind. ''You should consider that a man
without vices can become so rigid it becomes a vice unto itself.''

''So I should make sure to have a weakness?'' Jae asked, eyebrow raised.

''Indeed,'' Jaime replied, ignoring Jae's sarcasm, ''And make sure it brings you enough pleasure to
balance out all of the duties.'' He wiggled his eyebrows, ''Which means you should be allowed to
bury your face in the bosom of a Dornish Goddess without feeling guilty about it afterward.''

He has a point, Jae considered, not that he would admit it out loud. So he chose to divert attention
instead. ''Dornish Goddess, is she?'' he said, ''Is the Princess testing your commitment to your vows,
oh-dashing knight?''

Jaime's eyes clouded for the briefest of moments before the look was gone, and a smile took its
place. ''Afraid she might find the lion more attractive than the dragon, my Prince?'' Jaime asked and
the two laughed.

Jae took a sip of the Arbor Gold, the sweet nectar filling his mouth with its flavor, leaving only
some sour aftertaste in its wake.

He opted to change topics, knowing their jesting could go on for hours if left unchecked. ''How
fares your brother?'' he asked, ''It's been a while since told me anything about him.''

At this, Jaime's face took on a regretful expression. ''He... I fear he chafes at the Rock, Jaehaerys.''
He said, ''My father has little love for him and Cersei less.''

''You know my offer for him to come to Court is always open,'' Jae said kindly. It was the least he
could do.

Jaime smiled gratefully and nodded, ''I know, but father won't let him go. Says he will only
embarrass the family.''

Jae hummed, ''Perhaps the time has come for a good old righteous plot to free your brother,'' he
said, eyes lighting up, ''I do wonder how the Old Lion could be forced to give him up.''

''I doubt even you could pull that off,'' Jaime mutter with a chuckle.

'Ah, ah,'' Jaehaerys sat up in his chair, ''Tell me, is that a challenge I hear?''

Jaime laughed outright then, ''Don't go pissing off my father, Jaehaerys, he is humorless enough as
it is.''

''I could order him to send Tyrion to Court, you know?'' Jae said.

''But you're too smart to do that,'' Jaime commented, taking another sip of wine, even as the smile
on his face persisted, no doubt at the thought of Jaehaerys tricking old Tywin into freeing his
youngest son.

''I certainly am,'' Jae said with a grin, ''No, perhaps your father can be put into a position where he
would fear giving up something far more valuable. I imagine sending Tyrion to Court would seem
like mercy to him.''

''Nothing's more valuable than Tyrion,''.

''No, but I imagine your father doesn't feel that way.'' He said, ''And if we were to threaten
something precious, he might give up your brother willingly,'' he tipped his cup, ''You're the one
who taught me that.''

Jaime looked confused, ''And when have I done that?''

''When you told me to feign a strike to the neck and then cut off their hands,'' Jaehaerys said with a
grin and watched as realization dawned on Jaime. He always understood better when things were
put in martial terms.

''And how would we do that?''

''Nothing that would threaten the standing of House Lannister, of course. Nothing that would
weaken it.'' Jaehaerys shook his head, his mind buzzing. ''No, something that Lord Tywin himself
holds precious but may not be considered such by others.'' He looked at Jaime, ''Any ideas?''

Jaime leaned back in his chair and there was a look on his face all but Jaehaerys thought he wasn't
capable of. Jaime had always been a warrior first, believing everything else to be dull and boring.
Jae liked to think it was his games at Court and the consequences of them that opened Jaime's eyes
to the possibility of all the things words could do that swords just couldn't.

And so every once in a while, if the cause was good enough, the Sly Lion would take the place of
the Golden Lion. Jaehaerys made sure to enjoy himself every time it happened.

''I might have an idea or two,'' Jaime said and just as he was about to continue, a furious knocking
came upon the doors of his chambers.

Jae frowned and called, ''Come in,'' as he stood from his seat and stepped into his chambers, Ser
Jaime at his back. He heard the quiet rattle as Jaime put his hands on the hilt of his sword.

A servant entered, looking frazzled and out of breath and terrified. ''What's happened?'' Jaehaerys
asked.

''The Lord Regent,... my Prince, he asks you... come at once,'' the young man tried to catch his
breath, ''Prince Oberyn has caught a traitor.''

The words left unspoken were so clear the servant might've shouted them. There could only be one
reason why Jaehaerys would be needed to deal with traitors.

He nodded, grabbed the Dark Sister of the table and made his way out of the chambers as he
fastened his sword-belt.

He walked through the hallways of Maegor's Holdfast, his feet carrying him as quickly as they
could without crossing the border into running, all the while he weaved scenarios in his mind.
There was a traitor and undoubtedly he implicated Jaehaerys. But Jae had committed no treason, so
the man had to be bought or threatened. Men will do incredible things when you put a dagger to the
throats of their children. But who did it? Oberyn, that would be the obvious answer if only
Jaehaerys trusted obvious answers. Connington was another option, hoping to take advantage of
the rift between Jae and Oberyn.

But no, he wouldn't dare. One whiff of his plot coming out and Dark Sister would sing.
Connington knew as much.

But there were so many others. War had long proven a profitable endeavor to the men who knew
how to position themselves and killing Jae for treason would unleash a storm for the ages.

With those thoughts in mind, the servant led him to the Small Council Chamber instead of the
Throne Room. Another interesting piece of information; whatever was to be said was meant to be
known to a select few.

The door opened and Jaehaerys walked in, Jaime right behind him, never taking his hands off his
sword.

He found Connington, Oberyn, Arianne, Randyll Tarly, Corys Velaryon, Pycelle, Varys, and Ser
Anders Tolland, the new Master of Coin, all waiting for him inside.

He gauged their moods almost by habit. Connington looked satisfied, happy, triumphant. The
hateful look that had been weakening for years, due to Jaehaerys' dominance at Court, was back in
full force. Oberyn, to his surprise, did not share Connington's sentiments, his eyes guarded,
watching Jaehaerys closely but showing no emotion. Arianne looked wary, the way she chewed her
lip and looked at him, it screamed ''Beware!'' to Jaehaerys. The rest of the Council looked
composed and calculating, as any Small Council worth the name ought to be.

Then Jae's eyes landed on the man kneeling on the floor, hands chained behind his back. Though
the man's eyes were glued to the floor, Jaeharys could see he'd been beaten bloody and blood
dripped from his lip.
He looked at Connington, ''What's happened?'' he asked.

''We've captured a traitor,'' Connington said. This man would never let go of his hatred and Jae's
lesson of there being men you just can't make peace with was reinforced once more. He wondered
if he could pin it all on Connington, get rid of the man earlier than expected.

But first, he had to learn what the hell happened.

''Yes, I've been told,'' Jaehaerys said, ''I imagine you haven't asked for my presence simply to have
me witness the execution?''

''No,'' Connington grinned, ''More like take part in it,'' he spat, unable to hide his glee at the
predicament Jae found himself in, whatever it might be.

Jaime unsheathed his sword behind him and pointed it at Connington whose grin quickly
disappeared.

''There won't be any need for that,'' he said to Jaime while keeping his eyes on the Council,
''Sheathe your sword.''

Jaime complied as Jae said to the Council, ''Well, then, what am I to be accused of?'' his voice
steady, his tone indifferent.

''Plotting to commit treason,'' Lord Tarly replied. The proud warrior didn't like him, but he didn't
hate him either. Jae liked to think there was a measure of mutual respect there.

''I see,'' Jaehaerys nodded, ''And how does this poor sod fit into all of it?'' he said, gesturing to the
prisoner.

''He was caught bearing letters for the Lords of the Crownlands, ordering them to prepare
themselves for King Aegon's arrival to Court, where they would seize the capital and kill the
King.'' Lord Tarly replied, watching him closely, like the rest of the men present.

''Signed with my signature, no doubt,'' Jae presumed.

Lord Tarly nodded, but the tension remained.

Jae's eyes narrowed, tilting his head in thought. ''There's more,''

''Indeed, my Prince,'' Lord Varys said, with that annoyingly soft voice of his, ''The letters carried
your own personal seal and contained information few people know, you among them.''

''About?''

''Various transgressions of the Lords of the Crownlands that might make them more willing to
comply with your demands,'' Varys answered.

''I see,'' Jaehaerys nodded in understanding. How to tackle this, then? He could defend himself
loudly and passionately. He could beg them to believe he is no traitor but dismissed that option
without a second thought. He could lash out, declaring it all to be a plot against him.

But the look in Arianne's eyes lingered. This was a good plot. Letters signed by his own personal
seal, only one of which existed, and a man swearing he'd paid him to deliver the messages. Add to
that the sticky little secrets and you've got yourself a good case. Many an innocent man had lost his
head for far less.
So he chose the last option; politics. ''Well, then, what is to become of me?''

''You admit to your treason?'' Lord Tarly asked, showing as much surprise as a man like him would
allow himself to.

''Of course not,'' Jaehaerys scoffed, the very notion preposterous, ''But I will have a hard time
disproving your accusations as well, so I thought I might as well get down to the point.''

''There is only one thing to do with traitors,'' Connington sneered, not liking Jae's approach to the
accusations one bit. Good, he thought, it must mean it is the right one.

''But you can't lop off my head, that will start a war. You can't keep me hostage, for I already am
one. You can't send me to the Night's Watch, because you fear my Uncle will make sure I never
get there.'' Jaehaerys quickly listed off their options, ''So I ask again, what is to be done with me?''

''My Prince,'' Varys said, gesturing to the other members of the Small Council, ''This Council is not
entirely convinced you are guilty.''

''No?'' Jae asked, openly curious, ''Why not?''

''Because if you were to commit treason, it wouldn't be so sloppily done, for one,'' Corys Velaryon
muttered, earning chuckles from some, but none from Jaehaerys, and none from Oberyn.

''It warms my heart to see you think I'd make a good traitor, Lord Velaryon,'' Jaehaerys put an end
to their amusement. ''My competence aside, you have proof I did this, and no proof that I did not.
How is this matter to be resolved?''

''How do you think he was caught?'' Oberyn spoke up, smoothing his mustache as he watched Jae.

''Depends,'' Jaehaerys mused, ''Was he caught in the Red Keep, the city or the country?''

''The Red Keep,'' the Prince replied.

''Then he was posing as one of the household guards,'' Jaehaerys replied with certainty.

''Why not the secret passages?'' Oberyn asked.

''You either know your way around them or you don't. And for those who don't, the passages are
utterly useless.'' Jaehaerys knew better than most, he couldn't count the number of times he thought
he'd gotten lost for good when he explored them as a child.

This is a test, Jaehaerys thought, once more thinking of Arianne's look. This was her giving him a
chance to make peace with Oberyn and prove himself loyal. No doubt Oberyn cooked up the entire
thing to see how Jae would fare under the scrutiny, to see how he would respond.

But was all this a mummer's farce then, or was there some truth to it?

''And if you do know your way around them?''

''Then he was caught coming out of the hidden entrance by Rhaenys' trail.''

''Why not the one by Aegon's trail?''

''You'd have to be an idiot to do that, there is a post of Goldcloaks there, you'd walk right into their
arms.'' Jaehaerys shot down the notion.
''Yet that's exactly what happened,'' Varys murmured. Did the man sound happy?

''Indeed,'' Oberyn agreed, ''And I've interrogated him personally. I don't recall ever seeing a man so
happy to confess.''

At this, Connington's head snapped towards Oberyn. Maybe this isn't about me at all, Jaehaerys
thought incredulously, maybe Oberyn is getting rid of Connington, not me.

Gods, how many times would he have to learn the world did not revolve around him and his
issues?

''He sang such tales after my lash tasted his back,'' then those dark eyes of the Red Viper fell on
Connington instead of Jaehaerys. ''Of plotting Regents and vain attempts at getting Crown Prince's
executed.''

Connington did not get a word out before a guard hit him on the mouth so hard he was sent
sprawling. Three others were there in the next moment, picking him up and dragging him out of the
room. Jaehaerys watched it happen silently, eyes wide, like the rest of the people in the room.

He should feel happy, shouldn't he? So why did he feel so hollow, like he'd seen his dreams come
true but they tasted like ash?

''The regency has come to an end,'' Oberyn declared, ''King Aegon shall be traveling to King's
Landing shortly to assume his Throne.'' Having said his piece, he swept out without a backward
glance.

The rest of the Small Council left shortly after, Arianne sending Jae a small smile and followed her
Uncle.

When all were gone, Jae turned to Jaime, and the knight began to laugh.

He'd probably never seen Jaehaerys look so flabbergasted before.

 Chapter 9

''He wanted to see your face when you stepped into the Small Council Chamber, that's all, wanted
to see how you would react.'' Arianne murmured sleepily, her head laying on his chest as they
rested in bed, those soft breasts pressing against his side. ''The rest was all for Connington.''

Oberyn had given Connington his blessing to hatch a plot against Jaehaerys and turned on him the
moment it came to fruition. A political master-stroke Jaehaerys couldn't help but admire. In one
move, the Martells had proven themselves friends to all those who withered under Connington's
rule, shown that crimes against Jaehaerys would not go unpunished and proved the realm would be
a different place under Aegon.

Masterful, and it made him wonder if it was all Oberyn's idea or someone else's.

''I suppose this was all Oberyn's idea,'' he aside, idly twirling a strand of her hair around his finger.

''What makes you think I didn't do it?'' Arianne asked, trying to hide her pricked pride, just as he
was hoping.

Jaehaerys shrugged nonchalantly, ''Instinct,''

She raised herself up, glaring at him, ''I'll have you know, I set the entire thing in motion when I
gave Oberyn the idea, you ungrateful shit.''

She was set to go on a rant but the smirk on Jae's face alerted her to the trap she had walked into.

''You infuriating bastard,'' she said, slapping his chest even as she laughed. She straddled him then,
''You're going to pay for that.''

They still hadn't had sex, but not for a lack of teasing on Arianne's part. Naked as they were, she
slid up and down his length, her lips inches away from his.

''Will I?'' Jae breathed.

''Mhmm,'' she moaned, her grinding speeding up. ''We both know you want to slide that gorgeous
cock inside me.'' She bit him on the shoulder. ''And if I wanted to take you back to Dorne, making
sure we were caught right now would be enough to do it.''

''It would,'' Jaehaerys agreed, before he bit down on her nipple, eliciting more moans, ''But you told
me you have a scheme of your own in play.'' he grabbed her around her torso and flipped her over,
her legs wrapping around him. ''Maybe you want a little dragon of your own, hmm?'' he said and
began a trail of kisses down her body.

''I never should have mentioned that,'' she said, her voice somewhere between a moan and a groan.

''No, you really shouldn't have,'' Jae murmured with a smile as he rained kisses on her cute belly
button, ''But never fear, I am a forgiving man.'' And then he dove into her folds and tasted her
sweet juices as she moaned his name and screamed in ecstasy until he turned her into a gushing
mess, made her legs tremble and her eyes glaze over.

Jaehaerys watched her breathe deeply, proud he could make her lose control so. Oh, if only he
could... No, no, that did not bear thinking about. He only had to hold out a bit longer and then the
Martells would come and this little tryst would come to an end.
Still, he couldn't deny he'd grown fond of her. She was smart and witty and oh-so beguiling. It kept
him on his toes, but it also made it fun.

He laid down next to her and pulled her into his arms, burying his head in the crook of her neck.

And without thinking about it, he spent the first night with her in bed.

They woke up in the same position.

''You know, if you fucked me I might've said no man had ever brought me so much pleasure,'' she
murmured as Jae's eyes fluttered open.

Jaehaerys laughed. The games never stopped with Arianne. ''It gladdens my heart to hear I don't
even need to use my cock to compete with the rest of them,'' he quipped in turn, making her laugh.
She laid her head on his chest, watching him with a smile on her face. Having her so close to him,
the morning light falling on her face, it was the first time he noticed her brown eyes looked almost
golden, the dark spots in them that stood out as clearly as the stars in the night sky, hiding unseen
depths beneath.

He'd seen her body before he'd seen her beauty and though he knew the existence of such thoughts
to be a sure sign Arianne's seduction was working, he could not help but admire her. He'd only met
the chaste, supposedly-innocent Ladies of the Crownlands before and they could not match
Arianne's wit if they had rubbed their intellects together and prayed they'd breed.

''You have a talented tongue indeed,'' Arianne quipped as she licked the side of his neck. The
woman never gave up.

Before she could get the better of him, Jaehaerys raised himself from the bed. It was the hour of the
nightingale, and it was time for him to visit the city. ''My sincerest thanks for your words,
Princess.'' He said, pulling his tunic on, following up with his breeches.

''You wound me, my Prince,'' she replied, stretching on the bed like a cat, giving him a prime view,
''I am but an innocent maid wishing to win your love.''

Jaehaerys did not even look at her as he snorted, saying, ''If I were just another knight, I would have
bedded you a dozen times,'' he commented, buttoning his doublet, ''Alas, you will have to satisfy
yourself with dreaming.''

''Afraid you wouldn't measure up?'' she responded and Jaehaerys could only imagine the look on
her face as he strapped Dark Sister to his waist.

Her comment could sum up their fledgling relationship; her pricking Jae's pride and him doing his
best not to rise to the provocation. And the other way around.

''You should be grateful.'' He said, looking over his shoulder, ''It will make it easy to forget all
about me.'' And with that, he disappeared through the door, running straight into Ser Jaime who
grinned but did not dare to comment.

''I heard your muffled sounds,'' Ser Jaime proved he did dare to comment, ''I hope your cries for
help were not muffled by certain obstacles.''

''You're asking for a beating, Jaime,'' Jaehaerys growled, turning to glare at the knight to drive
home the point, but he knew it wasn't Ser Jaime's words that made him so agitated.

''Apologies, my Prince,'' Jaime got the message, ''Though you can see why I couldn't help myself.''
He added with a grin.

Jaehaerys snorted at that, no matter how hard he tried to remain stern. The two broke down
laughing then. ''You will have to give me some ammunition to return fire someday.''

''Never!'' Jaime cried. The man never seemed to be serious. ''I am but a virtuous knight!''

''Sure, sure,'' Jae rolled his eyes, as they reached the courtyard.

King Aegon was coming to the capital and he had to acquire an appropriate gift.

There was nothing more to be said as the stableboy handed them the reins of their horses and they
mounted up, riding through the gates into the city below, hoping to find a gift worthy of a King.

He had ordered a Crown for Aegon moons ago. It was to carry the insignia of the Old Gods, the
Seven and the Rhoynar Mother, to show that Aegon would be the King of all the people, not only
the dornish. He could only hope it would be appreciated and Aegon didn't turn out to be a
provincial twat.

The arrived at the Street of Steel and the workshop of Tobho Mott.

''My Prince,'' the master smith said as Jaehaerys walked into his workshop, bowing, ''It is an honor
to have you grace me with my presence.''

''It is all in the hope that you shall grace me with your work in return, Master Mott,'' Jaehaerys
replied, eliciting a smile from the aged blacksmith.

''Indeed I shall, my Prince.'' Mott said, snapping his fingers and his apprentice scurried to the back
of the shop, ''I am not one to hold back on completing my work, so I finished Your Graces order
the moment I heard of it.''

The apprentice returned, holding a package wrapped in leather and handed it to his Master. Even
Mott did not dare touch the finished product, handing it straight to Jaehaerys, who unfurled the
leathers to reveal a crown made of Valyrian Steel. The front of the crown carried three treasures; a
gold piece with a seven-pointed star engraved in the middle, a silver piece with the visage of the
Rhoynish Mother to the left and a bronze piece with the weeping face of the Old Gods. The three
metals ran around the band of the crown, while the spikes were adorned red rubies.

It was magnificent. A crown worthy of a great King.

''This is exceptional work,'' Jaehaerys commented, his voice full of awe.

''I thank you for your praise,'' Mott replied, bowing low but Jae did not hear him. He felt as though
he wasn't worthy of touching a masterpiece of such caliber, quickly wrapping it in its leathers and
handing it to Ser Jaime to keep safe.

Jaehaerys looked Mott right in the eyes and said, ''Expect me to come ask for your services once
more, Master Mott, you certainly have proven yourself worthy of royal patronage.''

Again, Mott bowed and said with a unending smile, ''You honor me, my Prince.''

Jaehaerys nodded with a smile on his face when he heard the sound of a man running and turned to
find one of his spies in the Red Keep sprinting towards him.

And away we go. Perfect timing. He waved his hands furiously and shouted, ''Prince Oberyn is
under attack! Prince Oberyn is under attack!'' he yelled, supposedly shouting to no one in particular.

Resolve filled his being. He was afraid of things going wrong, but he had committed to this
scheme; no other way out than through.

He saw Ser Jaime's questioning look and sprung into action. ''Mount up!'' He commanded, rushing
towards his horse.

Ser Jaime's expression told him he understood the risks involved as well the game in progress. He
sees more than I think. The two of them galloped down the Street of Steel, made a right and
continued their charge down the Street of Silk. They shouted for the people to get out of their way.

He began to panic as he rode down the Stree of Silk as he spotted a lone man with a sword in his
hands, holding back five opponents. There was no question about his identity. He unsheathed Dark
Sister, loving the way it sang as it slid from its scabbard before he raised it high in the air and
slashed downwards, taking the head of one of the attackers.

He vaulted off the horse and joined Prince Oberyn in fighting back. Ser Jaime appeared at
Oberyn's right, he himself having taken care of another assassin, leaving only three to deal with.

''Shall we?'' Ser Jaime asked, a bloodthirsty grin on his face, and the three of them launched
themselves against their opponents.

Dark Sister was irresistible. Jae's first strike clipped the sword of the attacker, the second broke it
and the third opened his throat to the bone.

Ser Jaime and Prince Oberyn did not have the same weapons at their disposal at Jaehaerys had, but
they took care of the threat as quickly as he did. I almost made him feel ashamed for feeling so
confident with the Dark Sister in his hands.

There was a moment of silence as his eyes looked at the dead attackers at their feet. That had been
far too close, and they weren't even in the clear yet. He just had to make sure he didn't show he
knew more danger was to come. He looked at Oberyn who was winded, but not wounded, and was
about to say something when a quarrel flew out of nowhere. The next stage.

Oberyn spotted it and shifted his torso, but it still clipped his shoulder. Jaehaerys looked up in a
feigned panic and found four crossbowmen leaning out of the windows, aiming straight at Oberyn.

Jaehaerys threw himself at the Prince of Dorne and not a moment too late, for three quarrels
embedding themselves in the ground where they stood.

''In here!'' Ser Jaime shouted, having kicked open a door of one of the houses, before lifting his
shield over their heads, saving them from the second volley of quarrels.

They staggered into the house, and Jaehaerys only briefly noticed the frightened family inside,
focusing on the entrance instead. More men were on their way.

''Stay back, my Prince,'' Jaime said, stepping in front of him as four men appeared at the door.

''If I stay back, we're all dead,'' Jaehaerys growled.

''We's only her' for the snake,'' one of the attackers said with a savage smile, ''We'll leave you be.''

''If he dies, I'll be dead before the week is out.'' Jaehaerys snarled and launched an attack. They
could not be allowed to come into the room. If they were kept by the door, then they were at a
disadvantage.

Ser Jaime and Oberyn knew what he was trying to do and move to surround them. Jae attacked
from the left, Jaime head-on, Oberyn from the right. Three men fought back while the fourth was
rendered useless, caught between the doorway and his comrades.

Jae's dueling partner went for a side-swing, but Jae lunged forward, hitting his blade just above the
cross-guard, ripping it from his hands. His next swing took his head. He only meant to open his
throat, but the Dark Sister had other ideas.

The fourth man, finding an opening, charged him but found only death when Jaime dispatched his
opponent and thrust at his back.

Oberyn was not far behind in taking care of the remaining attacker. Jae looked out the window to
find the four crossbowmen were approaching the entrance. Jaime and Oberyn saw the same and
charged out the door, determined they wouldn't be sitting ducks inside.

Jae was right behind them but he didn't get the chance to attack anyone since the Red Viper and the
Golden Lion took them all down without him having to raise his sword.

Oberyn turned to him, a furious look in his eyes, ''Am I supposed to believe this wasn't done on
your orders? Some desperate attempt to get me to trust you?'' he shouted at Jaehaerys.

''He saved your life!'' Ser Jaime shouted furiously, as Jae was too shocked to say anything.
Inwardly, he was panicking in fear of having been discovered, but outwardly he staggered
backward in shock. He doesn't know, there's no way.

He wanted to defend himself but he caught movement from the corner of his eye.

Oberyn hadn't killed one of them, merely slashed at his shoulder. The mercenary lifted his
crossbow and aimed it straight at the Red Viper. Jae spotted him too late and by then, there was
only one thing left to do. He couldn't let his ploy go so horribly wrong. Arianne had won him
neutrality from the Viper, but he had to earn trust for himself.

He threw himself in front of Oberyn as the mercenary pulled the trigger.

He hit the ground with a groan, a stinging pain in his left shoulder. He looked down to find a
quarrel had hit him right beneath the shoulder. Gods, tell me it didn't hit the heart, he thought
furiously.

He heard a cry of rage followed by a grunt of pain when Ser Jaime plunged his sword through the
mercenary's heart.

Oberyn was at his side then, pulling him on his back. His eyes were wide, the Viper looked to be in
shock.

''Jaehaerys!'' Jaime shouted, appearing at his side, looking down at the quarrel embedded below his
shoulder. ''Why'd you do that?!''

''Because I don't want to die just yet,'' Jae quipped, trying to make light of the situation because he
hated the look of sheer panic in Jaime's eyes. ''Am I going to die?'' he groaned in pain as he tried to
shift in place.

''Doesn't look like it,'' Oberyn said, observing the place the quarrel hit, ''I don't think it hit anything
important, but I could be wrong.'' He looked up at Jaime, ''We have to get him to a Maester.''
Jaehaerys gritted his teeth, but he wouldn't cry out in pain, wouldn't scream. Oberyn placed his left
arm over his chest, which made things marginally better.

The Gold Cloaks arrived soon after and Jaehaerys was placed on a cart and taken back to the Red
Keep. He saw people looking into the cart, eyes wide when they spotted him, only to retreat in the
face of Jaime's sword. He even thought he caught a glimpse of Arianne but she did not say
anything. She must've been more concerned with her uncle.

He was taken to the Grand Maester's chambers and, laying in a bed as Pycelle shuffled around him,
examining the wound and muttering under his breath, Jae wanted nothing more than to strangle the
man.

In the end, the man declared Jae would have to be given the Milk of the Poppy in order for the
quarrel to be pulled from him and Jae drank it down greedily, surrendering to a blissful rest.
 Chapter 10

He was staring at the ceiling. He'd been doing a lot of that lately.

He woke up from his poppy-induced sleep to have Pycelle tell him he should make a full recovery,
even if his left shoulders might give him problems for the rest of his life. Might give me problems
for the rest of my life? What the fuck does that mean? By the way it pained him with every move
he made, Jae could well believe it.

Pycelle offered to give him some more milk of the poppy, but Jae would have none of it. He
preferred the pain to addled wits. He couldn't be heard murmuring incriminating things while he
was asleep.

Thus, he was confined to his bed for a fortnight to make sure his wound did not reopen; nothing to
do but read and talk to Jaime who altered between chastising him for risking his life ''for a bloody
snake'' and praising him for the skill he showed during the battle. Neither mentioned Jae might've
expected the attack, might've been a little too quick to respond. The official story claimed they'd
been drawn by panicked shouting of the smallfolk and neither one expressed any desire to cast
doubt on it.

Jae had long run out of books that were of any use, so his boredom and desire to be distracted from
his thoughts led him to read books on the economies of the Free Cities. He read them because he
had nothing better to do at first, but they grew on him with time.

An economy could reveal quite a lot about a certain country, culture or people. Each of the Free
Cities provided something, whether it be location, a desirable commodity or knowledge, all of
which they traded among themselves and the rest of the world. It was no wonder why the Free
Cities were so prosperous.

But it was all based on slavery, even if they all pretended it wasn't.

While the idea of cities where a person's lineage did not matter fascinated Jaehaerys, slavery
repulsed him. All empires and kingdoms were essentially built on the bones of those who opposed
them, but it was better than to sustain yourself on the continued suffering of others.

Besides, it made them weak. Jaehaerys could just imagine if someone appeared before the gates of
any one of the Free Cities with an army, claiming to want to free all the slaves.

Cities cannot survive sieges if they're too busy fighting a civil war.

Why didn't my ancestors take the opportunity? He wondered with no small amount of frustration.

People enjoy talking about the folly of Viserys I in naming a woman his Heir, but in Jae's opinion
the problems began much sooner than that. Jaehaerys Conciliator is widely regarded as the greatest
King ever to sit the Iron Throne but Jae thought him an idiot.

He was too peaceful. He had an army of dragons at his command and more Targaryen's than
anyone knew what to do with. Surely there were two or three competent ones among them who
could be sent to Essos to conquer everything in their path. The realm had enjoyed five decades of
peace and prosperity under Jae's namesake. There must've been thousands of knights itching for a
chance at glory and no place to find it.

If Jaehaerys were to propose a conquest of Essos, all of them would have jumped at the chance.
And the narrative would have shifted. Targaryen's would have begun to rebuild the Valyrian
Empire of old and all ambitious members of the House would have focused their attention on it.

Instead, Jaehaerys consolidated his power and settled to rule over a peaceful realm.

A generation later, dragons fought dragons for control of land they already owned. Jae sneered at
the very thought of it. If he met any of them in the Seven Hells, he was sure to spit them in the
face.

Arrogant fools, he snarled to himself, they thought nothing could bring them low.

They were right, in a way. If history has proven anything, it's that only Targaryen's can destroy
House Targaryen. And the fuckers certainly tried.

Small men with small dreams who considered their dragons to be pets they got to take for a joyride
rather than destructive engines of conquest.

He sighed, visions of magnificent dragons disappearing from his mind, leaving only a dull ceiling
in their wake. There's no point in getting worked up over the past, he reminded himself. Dragons
had long disappeared from the world, even if dreams of soaring through the sky on top of one kept
plaguing his nights.

There was nothing left but petty politics and sharp blades. Gods help us.

He sometimes wondered about the Tragedy of Summerhall and King Aegon's attempt to bring back
dragons. Did he know something everyone else forgot or was it...

A knock on his door interrupted his musings.

Ser Jaime opened the door and stepped inside, revealing Prince Oberyn.

''Prince Oberyn is here to see you,'' Jaime said sardonically, ''His breakfast was subpar, so he's
come to blame you for it.''

Jaehaerys wanted to laugh, and would have if he didn't see the death glare Oberyn aimed at Jaime.

He tried to smile welcomingly at the Prince, inwardly steeling himself for what was to come, and
said, ''Please, Prince Oberyn, come in.''

He instinctually tried to sit up in bed to make himself look at least close to presentable, but the pain
in his shoulder flared. He subsided back into a lying position, giving it up as a lost cause.

Oberyn nodded and stepped inside, moving to the chair at Jae's bedside as Jaime closed the door.
He sat down and glanced back at the door. ''Never thought I'd meet a loyal lion,'' he commented.

Jaehaerys said nothing, watching this strange man. He'd taken a bolt for him, no matter how
foolishly, and now it was time to capitalize on it. Would the act itself be enough to convince
Oberyn of his trustworthiness? No, most likely not. The conversation that followed would come to
decide Oberyn's true feelings.

The Prince of Dorne had tested the waters by using Connington, learning Jaehaerys had nothing to
hide, but now came the time to decide if Jaehaerys could be trusted to help protect Aegon.

Oberyn's eyes turned to Jaehaerys then, and he said, ''But I've seen stranger things.''

A good start if ever there was one. Jaehaerys only nodded in response. He had played this
conversation in his head many times and decided he should be closed-off at first. Insulted, even. It
would be an expected reaction when Oberyn had accused Jaehaerys of plotting to kill him moments
before Jaehaerys saved his life.

Oberyn sat up straight in his chair, most uncharacteristic of him, as though steeling himself for
what he had to do. ''You saved my life, my Prince,'' he said, looking Jae right in the eyes. ''I am
eternally in your debt and...'' he cleared his throat. Clearly, this were uncharted waters for the
Viper. ''I apologize for my words. I—I let my fears get the better of me.''

Jaehaerys respected him for saying so in spite of his struggling apology. Or perhaps because of it.
It takes a true man, especially one who is as proud as Oberyn, to swallow his pride and admit he
was wrong. He got the feeling he had been experiencing the nastiest, most petty version of the Red
Viper and was only now glimpsing him for who he was.

''Apology accepted, Prince Oberyn,'' Jaehaerys replied, his tone clipped. He could not let go of his
anger too quickly.

''Please, call me Oberyn, at least when we're in private. I owe you a life debt, there is no need for
such formalities.''

Ah, yes, life debts, Jaehaerys thought, remembering all he read about them during his studies of
dornish history and culture.

The Rhoynar considered them sacred and the people who shared them bound for life. To harm a
man you owe a life debt would be akin to breaking guest right in the rest of the kingdoms if it
weren't for certain... caveats. If the man who saved your life should come to threaten your family,
all talk of life debts would quickly be forgotten. Having read his fair share of Dornish history,
Jaehaerys knew better than most that this little clause had been exploited quite a few times over the
centuries.

All in all, it would grant him some favor with the Viper, but not much beyond that. Though
Jaehaerys had no plan to harm the Martells, Oberyn would easily produce a justifiable reason for
acting against Jae. The former Lord Regent came to mind.

Still, Jaehaerys should've felt ecstatic. His plan had worked perfectly, ignoring some of the minor
problems, but he couldn't help but lament the knowledge that only through scheming could a man
like Oberyn look upon him with anything other than suspicion.

To prove them wrong, I have to prove them right. It was the most ridiculous thought Jaehaerys ever
had, but it was also the truth. He would never escape the taint of his parents actions and the only
way to win any respect, affection or trust from those around him was to engineer situations when
those emotions would be provoked.

Except for Ser Jaime, he thought, but another part of him quickly countered. He was there when
Queen Rhaella was raped. He couldn't save her, so he chose to save you. Another situation that
stirred up feelings of loyalty in Ser Jaime, even if you weren't the one to set it up.

But he would be the one to do so with everyone else. He doubted even the honorable Eddard Stark
would be able to look at him without the ghosts of the past clouding his sight.

''Then you may call me Jaehaerys, my—Oberyn.'' He allowed a sheepish smile at his almost-
mistake. Yes, be nervous as a maiden before the bedding, it only makes you appear more honest.

Oberyn nodded, eyes shining with amusement, which meant it worked.

''Is your wound healing well?'' Oberyn asked after a moment of awkward silence.

Jaehaerys nodded, glancing down at the bandages covering it. ''Grand Maester Pycelle claims I will
make a good recovery.''

''Good, that is good. It isn't your sword arm, but still...''

''I would like to lift my left hand over my head again, yes.'' Jaehaerys finished the sentence for him
with a smile.

''You'll get to show it around and brag how you saved me to anyone who will listen,'' Oberyn said
with grin.

''Judging by your reputation, some people might not thank me for that.'' Jaehaerys quipped, feeling
bold. Too bold, he thought worriedly when Oberyn froze, only for him to throw his head back and
laugh.

''You might be right,'' he conceded, ''Especially should you ever find yourself in Lys.''

''I'll keep it in mind,'' Jaehaerys said with a companionable smile.

After the smiles died down, somberness returned when Oberyn asked, ''I trust you've been told
King Aegon is arriving at the capital in a fortnight?''

Jae nodded, ''It's hard to miss all the maids who are buzzing with the news.''

''It's not just them,'' Oberyn deadpanned, ''All of Westeros seems to be descending on the capital,
hoping to welcome their new King.''

Jaehaerys grimaced genuinely at that. ''Mayhaps I'll rip my stitches and stay in bed for another
couple of weeks.''

Oberyn huffed in amusement, ''I can just imagine Lord Stark's reaction if you weren't there to greet
him.''

Jaehaerys vaguely pictured a hulking man rampaging the halls of the Red Keep in search of him
and found the idea quite comforting, no matter the consequences of such an act.

With nothing to say, a silence fell upon the room. Jaehaerys did his best not to fidget, he had but
one idea of how to continue the conversation. Something he'd been wondering for a very long time.

''What is Aegon like?'' he finally blurted out.

Oberyn, whose eyes had been on the floor, looked up at him in surprise. ''Are you asking about
your half-brother or your King?''

''Is there a difference?''

''I suppose not,'' Oberyn agreed, ''He does not hate you, of that you can be sure. People of Dorne
were angry and insulted when Rhaegar escaped with your Lady mother, but Dorne... we understand
passion and how it drives people. Aegon does as well.''

''Even after thousands of dornishmen died on the Trident?'' Jaehaerys pressed and Oberyn's wince
answered all his questions. He did not bother to point out Oberyn did not truly answer the question
about Aegon. Madman, weakling or a fool? I just hope he isn't a foolish weakling.
''They fought for Elia, to protect her from the Mad King.'' Was all he said on the matter.

And the only reason she needed protection was because of Rhaegar and my mother, Jaehaerys
concluded, knowing better than to press the point.

''I should let you rest,'' Oberyn brought the conversation to a swift conclusion as he stood. He
moved to the door and he was about to open them when he stopped and looked over his shoulder,
''I've been told you are a well-read man. You know what life debts mean to the dornish. Should
you ever have need of me, you need but ask.''

Jaehaerys gave him a solemn nod. ''I thank you, Prince Oberyn.''

He got a nod in return before the Red Viper left his chambers, closing the door behind him.

Jaehaerys let out a deep breath. That had gone even better than he could have hoped. Once more,
he'd proven his mettle when it comes to playing the games of the Court.

Connington's words still rang in his head. ''Your father would be ashamed of you!'' he shouted as
Jaehaerys, a boy of five, cowered before him.

Whichever hell you are residing in, Connington, I hope you're watching and gnashing your teeth in
rage.

Jaehaerys was no disappointment. He was doing what had to be done and if his parents did not
approve of his methods, then they shouldn't have put him in such a position in the first place.

The faces of the mercenaries he'd killed to win Oberyn's trust flashed through his mind. The face of
the man whom he used to arrange the entire affair. But more than anything, it was the face of the
boy who alerted him to the time and the place of the attack, Dennis his name was, that haunted
him.

Jaehaerys had sneaked out of his chambers two nights earlier to meet with him. He was only a few
years younger than Jaehaerys, but brave, and clever, and loyal! He could not get the look on his
face when Jaehaerys plunged his dagger into his throat out of his mind.

It haunted his dreams along with fears that the mercenary who arranged the hit had talked.
Jaehaerys had paid him a small fortune but the information that the Crown Prince was attempting
to stage the assassination of a Prince of Dorne was worth even more.

He had no chance, Jaehaerys told him. He'd given the order, then followed the mercenary as he
relayed those orders and paid the men who would do the deed. Jae promptly slew him after that.
The only thing to fear was that the mercenary had mentioned it to the men he was hiring.

But no, he could not be so stupid. Jaehaerys told himself. He'd been telling himself the same thing
since he'd woken up in bed, his mind hazy but as full of fears as ever.

The worst part was that he could do nothing but wait. If he made a mistake, if he did not counter
the Spider's methods as well as he thought, then one night guards would appear at his door and that
would be the end. They hadn't so far, but Jae did not know how long he would have to wait before
he could consider himself in the clear.

Above all, he prayed it was worth it.

He'd made himself a murderer for it, so it better be.

 Chapter 11

He stood on a pier, squinting into the distance. The ship of King Aegon VI Targaryen had been
spotted about one hour earlier and the entire court had hurried down to the docks to welcome their
new King.

Many of the nobles from all over Westeros had already arrived to King’s Landing for the
coronation, but none of the Great Lords with the exception of Mace Tyrell. That one wanted a head
start in the race to make his daughter Queen. Why Tywin Lannister wasn’t doing the same he
clearly had not asked himself.

For Jaehaerys, the moment of truth had come. Aegon arrival came almost two years too late and it
was time he learned why. Who would walk off that ship? A madman, an impulsive idiot, a
weakling? There were a lot of possible reasons why the Martells would want to keep Aegon hidden
for as long as they had and Jaehaerys’ imagination ran wild with conjecture.

He briefly entertained the possibility of it all being a trick; that the effect of a great man would be
enhanced if everyone expected the worst. He discarded the notion as ridiculous wishful thinking.
Rumors already circulated the kingdoms, few of them flattering. Even if Aegon proved to be his
namesake reborn, it would take a long time for them to die down – Martells would have to be idiots
to hatch a plan like that.

Maybe he’s just immature, more interested in living than ruling. That wouldn’t be too bad.
Immature men grow up but idiots don’t become wise overnight.

He shut down that train of thought. Whatever the truth, he’d find out soon enough.

He looked around at the assembled nobles present. He was part of the welcome party along with
Prince Oberyn and Princess Arianne, both of whom stood to his right, Princess Daenerys to his left.
Most of the court stood behind them, every one of them as curious about the King as he was.
Though for wildly different reasons, no doubt.

Even the commoners had learned of the King’s arrival and thousands of them filled the streets of
King’s Landing, eager to catch a glimpse of the King they hadn’t seen since he was blessed in the
Sept of Baelor as an infant.

Did he know what he was walking into? The Martell’s had to have some clue from Prince
Oberyn’s reports over the previous couple of moons if nothing else. The cream of Westerosi
nobility converged on the capital, the loyal and the treacherous alike, all of them coming to see
what the King plans to do about the injustices they suffered under Connington. All of them coming
to see why they had to suffer them in the first place.

The Realm never Aegon to perform a balancing act for the ages. The pardoned rebels will look for
assurances of fair treatment. The loyalists will come to collect for their devotion to the Targaryen’s
during the Rebellion. Perhaps for the first time in the history of Westeros, the aftermath of a war
would happen fourteen years after the end of the war. The incubation period in-between only
worsened the sentiments of the nobles. There were Heirs and future Lords who’d been weaned on
the hatred for the Targaryen’s when they should have considered the Rebellion a thing of the past.
Jae feared the divides in the Realm were doomed to last for another generation.

Should Aegon go out of his way to reward the loyalists, the former rebels would know they’ll
never have a place in the current regime. And then there will be trouble. Should Aegon strive to
pacify the enraged rebels, loyalists will be pissed that he’s rewarding traitors who’d been trying to
kill them all not fifteen years past. And then there’ll be trouble.

Jaehaerys did not know the correct course of action. Satisfying the loyalists would be the safe
move since they represented the rock upon which the current regime stood, but it was not a
sustainable solution. One cannot rule Seven Kingdoms when three of them dream of rebellions.

A thousand goals whirred in his mind, supported by a thousand plots. It all depended on Aegon;
you have to know who you’re manipulating before you can proceed.

‘’Excited to meet your brother?’’ Arianne whispered from his side. She knew the answer and
seemed intent on mocking him for it. It only strengthened his concerns about Aegon.

‘’Indeed,’’ he nodded as the ship approached the dock. Sailors on board ran up and down the deck,
scrambling to prepare the ship for docking. He caught a glint of a gold helm and his heart began to
beat a little faster. He would meet Ser Arthur Dayne by the end of the day!

At last, ropes flew overboard and the men working on the docks dutifully reeled the ship in and
secured it to the pier. A large plank slid over the edge of the deck.

The trumpets sounded the King welcome, the drums beat. All in the crowd instinctually
straightened up as two Kingsguard knights walked down the plank, followed by a silver-haired
man, a dornish beauty and a frail woman who could only be their mother. Two more Kingsguard’s
followed behind.

They made for a formidable image, Jaehaerys could not deny it as he went down on one knee with
the rest of the Court. He stole another glance at the half-siblings he’d never seen before. Aegon did
not look like a weakling, at least physically speaking. He had to be a few inches taller than
Jaehaerys and far bulkier. He was all Valyrian in looks, though fortunately did not resemble
Viserys in the slightest. That was a relief.

Rhaenys was a carbon copy of her mother, though Jaehaerys thought he’d seen a glimmer of violet
eyes. Much like him then. He found he liked the thought of not being the only one who took after
his mother.

Aegon approached the gathered party with a serpentine step. He paused before them. Jae’s long
curls allowed him to look up without being noticed, and he saw how Aegon’s chest puffed up. He
is pleased. Pleased to see so many kneeling for him.

It took a nudge from Princess Rhaenys for Aegon to nod and say, ‘’Rise, rise all!’’

They all slowly got back to their feet. Jaehaerys could’ve sworn his legs weighed more than they
had when he knelt. He swallowed and took a deep breath; don’t jump to conclusions!

‘’Uncle!’’ Aegon smiled and embraced Prince Oberyn who returned the hug with enthusiasm.

Jae’s suspicions about the relationship between Aegon and Arianne were definitively confirmed
when the latter curtsied for Aegon and he gave her but a polite nod. None of the familial warmth
he shared with Oberyn could be found.

At last, his turn came. Aegon’s mouth spread into a wide smile, but Jae did not miss the assessing
gaze in his eyes. He subtly looked Jae up and down as one might a horse. ‘’Brother! How I have
longed to meet you!’’ he said and proceeded to hug Jaehaerys.

Trying to appear friendly in public or merely going out of his way to slight Arianne? Because if he
thought Jae would buy his little act, he had to be an idiot. Jaehaerys grew up in King’s Landing and
by its standards, Aegon’s little performance was pathetic bordering on laughable.

It was a bit disappointing. Jaehaerys wouldn’t have minded if Aegon were a good a liar. At least
they’d have something in common.

‘’It is good to meet you too, Your Grace.’’ He had reminded himself beforehand not to use words
like ‘finally’ or ‘at last’. Aegon wouldn’t appreciate being reminded of how late he was in coming
for his throne.

Especially as it seems it most likely wasn’t his decision to do so in the first place.

‘’Please, Jaehaerys, my family all call me Aegon.’’

Jae inclined his head. ‘’As you say, Aegon.’’

The King moved on to greet Daenerys, allowing his sister and his mother to meet him. Rhaenys
was first and she was in his arms before Jae could register what was happening. ‘’It’s so nice to
meet you, little brother.’’ She whispered in his ear.

‘’It is nice to meet you too, Princess.’’ He said with a genuine smile. There was not a trace of guile
in her, which made Jaehaerys like her on the spot. Either she was an excellent liar or very
straightforward in her affections – both endearing possibilities in Jae’s eyes.

‘’I don’t have to repeat Aegon’s words, do I?’’ she said with a chiding look mixed with
amusement. Is this what it’s like to have a sister? Jae wondered, because it felt wonderful.

‘’Of course not, Rhaenys.’’

She gave him a cheeky smile before her place was taken by Queen Elia.

‘’Your Grace,’’ Jae bowed low. Queen Elia might’ve looked skinny and weak from a distance, but
a light shone in her eyes, her every movement speaking of an inner fire that would not go out.

‘’Jaehaerys,’’ she said with a warm smile. ‘’I cannot thank you enough for saving Oberyn.’’

‘’It was nothing, Your Grace.’’ His shoulder flared at the reminder. It still hadn’t healed
completely and it would take some time before the soreness would leave him, or so Pycelle
claimed.

‘’What a fine man you’ve grown into. Lyanna would be proud.’’

Her comment took Jae’s breath away. No one had ever mentioned his mother, let alone alluded to
how she would feel about Jae. He bowed his head on instinct to hide his thoughts and said, ‘’Thank
you, Your Grace.’’

She nodded, patting his cheek, looking all too aware of Jae’s thoughts for him to be comfortable.

‘’I suggest we adjourn to the Red Keep. We’ve had a long journey and I believe everyone would
like to freshen up.’’ Rhaenys suggested and her idea was adopted post-haste.

Jaehaerys mounted his horse, Ser Jaime by his side and rode up Aegon’s Hill behind the King.
Crowds of commoners lined the streets, cheering for their King. Aegon, for his part, returned their
affection eagerly, waving and smiling to the crowd, throwing the occasional golden dragon to some
of the orphans that ran by the side of the procession. It only made the cheering grow louder.
Jaehaerys watched it all with a smile on his face. It was the right move, there was no doubt about
that. The people loved Rhargar and at last, they had a son of the Silver Prince who resembled him
in looks and character. It looks that way, at least.

The truth didn’t matter, whatever it was. The truth never matters, if only you’ve got the discipline
to keep it hidden. Jae was reminded of it every time he had an amicable conversation with Oberyn.
It made him wonder what truth exactly Aegon hoped to keep hidden. I will know soon enough. If
he is power-hungry and arrogant, he won’t be able to help but reveal his true colors.

They reached the Red Keep in good time and the entire procession dismounted and the two
Princesses and Queen Elia stepped out of the carriage.

Servants hurried back and forth, leading Aegon, Rhaenys, and Elia to their chambers while others
rushed to collect their luggage and accommodate the other members of the party. Jae stood with
Jaime, thinking how life at court would never be the same again when a Kingsguard approached
them.

There was a huge longsword poking over his shoulder. That could only mean one thing.

‘’Ser Arthur,’’ Ser Jaime said with a nod.

‘’Ser Jaime,’’ Ser Arthur returned it. ‘’Ser Gerold requests your presence in the White Sword
Tower. You are to go over your duties now that the entire Royal Family resides in the Red Keep.’’

Jaime was about to say something, but Arthur cut him off. ‘’I will look after Prince Jaehaerys in
the meantime.’’

Jaime snapped his mouth shut, nodded to Arthur, bowed to Jaehaerys and walked off, leaving
Jaehaerys alone with the legend.

‘’It is a pleasure to meet a warrior of your renown, Ser Arthur,’’ Jae said with a nod.

‘’The pleasure is mine, Your Highness.’’ He said and bowed, but nothing more. Jaime did say he
wasn’t much of a talker. Gods, this should be tedious.

‘’I was planning on retiring to my chambers until the feast. I wouldn’t want to unnecessarily burden
you, Ser.’’

‘’Not at all, Your Highness.’’ Those purple eyes watched him from behind his helm. What does
this one think of me, I wonder?

‘’Very well,’’ Jaehaerys walked out of the courtyard, his thoughts quickly straying from the famed
knight. The elegant, subtle dance that would take place in the following days interested him far
more. Surprisingly enough, he found himself looking forward to it. His derision of the courtly
games had been eroding for a long time, but he hadn’t expected to come to enjoy them. Men like
Ser Jaime, warriors all, deride the feigned smiles and duplicitous talk. They do not understand.
Courtly games are a form of chivalry. If all men were to come out and say exactly what they mean,
the wars would never end. The games, with all their tedious rules and nuances, provide an avenue
for nobles to pursue their ambitions without slaughtering each other.

Jaehaerys was coming to love it, and so the coming days had him as excited as a maid before the
bedding. He’d been taking baby steps towards peace for years, but now the opportunity came to
take strides! Great strides!

It promised to be a memorable affair.

O-O-O

A knock came upon his door as he finished getting ready. ''Come in!''

The door creaked open to reveal Ser Arthur. ''My Prince, it is time. The feast shall begin shortly.''

''Of course,'' Alexander gave him a polite smile, checked his doublet one last time and left the
room, Ser Arthur on his heels.

The feast was to be held in the Throne Room, always an unpleasant affair since it was far too
narrow and far too long. Aegon the Dragon was no architect to be sure, but it was about the only
negative thing Jaehaerys could say about him.

He hurried down the halls. It wouldn't do for him to be the last one to arrive. He smiled in relief to
find the entire Royal family arrayed before the entrance to the Throne room with the exception of
Aegon. A King couldn't be seen pacing around, waiting for his little brother.

''Jaehaerys, don't you look dashing,'' Rhaenys exclaimed, drawing the eyes of Dany, Oberyn, and
Elia.

In her yellow dress with a diamond necklace around her neck, Rhaenys shone like the sun Daeron
wouldn't shut up about in his Conquest of Dorne.

''You look beautiful Rhaenys,'' he said as he approached them.

''Why, thank you. Now if only Aegon would come in the next couple of hours and people would
get to see me.''

''I'm here, I'm here,'' Aegon said as he came around the corner.

''Ah, finally,'' Rhaenys said. ''Now, then. Aegon, you'll escort Daenerys. I'm with Jaehaerys and
Uncle Oberyn will escort mama.''

''If I may ask, where's Princess Arianne?'' Jae asked, confused by her absence.

''I'm afraid Arianne's taken ill, she asked to be excused for tonight's feast,'' Rhaenys explained.
''Now, pair up. We're late as it is.''

They took their places, Aegon and Daenerys in front, Jaehaerys and Rhaenys behind them and Elia
and Oberyn coming up last.

''All set?'' Rhaenys looked them all up and down one final time and nodded to the herald.

The giant oak doors opened to reveal the Throne Room beyond. The steward had gone to great
lengths to decorate it for the arrival of the King. Targaryen banners hung from the pillars that ran
the length of the room on both sides. There were four rows of tables, split by a corridor that leads
straight to the Iron Throne, or the dais before it.

It was a simple pecking order. The closer one sat to the dais, the more powerful they were.

The herald announced them and all in the hall rose to their feet as they walked by. Jaehaerys kept
his eyes in front, only observing the nobles present from the corner of his eye. All their eyes were
on Aegon who was looking around at the people present with a pleasant smile on his face.

When they reached the end of the hall, they moved to the right and around the dais. Jaehaerys sat
to the right of the King, Daenerys next to him, while Queen Elia, Prince Oberyn and Rhaenys we
seated to his left.

All that's left of the Targaryen dynasty; the four of us and a madman I hope to never see again.

The rest of the nobles present sat down with the King.

Servants approached and poured them all a cup of wine. Aegon rose to his feet, holding his cup
high. ''Let this day mark a new chapter in the history of Westeros, the day when all our fortunes
took a turn for the better and a new Westeros was born. One of peace and prosperity, where the
loyal are raised up and the treacherous cast down.'' He smiled. ''To Westeros!''

''To Westeros!'' the entire hall chorused with various levels of enthusiasm.

What an interesting opening statement. Jae spotted Lord Darry below the dais, that one looked
happy by what he heard. A sure sign Aegon sent the wrong message. Darry still dreamt of Tully
heads on spikes for the three brothers he lost in the Rebellion.

To talk about treachery in your first speech to the nobles. Jaehaerys discarded such thoughts, he'd
have plenty of time to think it through later, and took a sip of the wine.

''What did you think of my speech, Rhaenys?'' Aegon asked. Jaehaerys couldn't catch his
expression, what with Aegon looking the other way, but Rhaenys did not look too pleased.

''Inspired, brother.''

''Why, thank you.'' He took another sip of wine, oozing smugness. Jaehaerys took care to note what
it implied about their relationship. It's all there was to do in the next couple of days. Learn the lay
of the land, discover the dynamics between the players and act accordingly.

''And you, dearest brother, what did you think?''

''I concur with the Princess' assessment.''

''I'm pleased to hear it,'' he said, focusing his full attention on Jae now. ''You must tell me the story
of how you came to save my Uncle's life. I've heard such riveting rumors.''

''Exaggerations, no doubt. I'm afraid Prince Oberyn and Ser Jaime did most of the fighting.''
Jaehaerys tried to play down the story so as to prompt a change of topic.

''Oh, come now, you must not be so humble. It might make people doubt if you did anything at
all!'' he laughed and all those within earshot laughed with him. The Martell's could only muster
weak smiles, their eyes locked on Aegon.

''I assure you, nephew, Prince Jaehaerys did plenty,'' Oberyn spoke up from the edge of the table.
He had a look in his eyes Jaehaerys couldn't decipher.

Aegon inclined his head in acknowledgment of his Uncle's words, yet looked amused of all things.
Baffling.

''Regardless, I do hope you know how grateful we all are for your actions, Jaehaerys.'' Aegon
smiled. He raised his cup and shouted, ''To Prince Jaehaerys Targaryen, the Ice Dragon!''

Jaehaerys didn't know what game was being played and if he was even a part of it. The Throne
Room rang as the nobles present echoed Aegon's toast and shouted, ''The Ice Dragon!'' It surprised
him how loudly they shouted, too. He would have expected they'd do it only for the sake of
appearances.

But it was the flash of bitterness that passed over Aegon's face that caught him off-guard most. He
didn't know what to make of it and for a man who prided himself on his ability to understand
people and what drives them, it was maddening.

''Are you looking forward to the Tourney that will be held, Your Grace?'' Daenerys asked him from
Jae's right.

''I am,'' Aegon nodded, taking another sip of wine. He was on pace to empty a barrel by night's end.
''It should be held by the end of the week. Do we have any updates on when the rest of our guests
shall be arriving?'' he asked no one in particular.

''The Lannisters, Arryns, and Baratheons should be here early tomorrow. The Tullys and the Starks
the day after that.'' Rhaenys answered him.

''The Starks are coming?'' Aegon asked, ''That's—'' he burped, ''brave.''

That turned a lot of heads, but not Jae's. He observed the people below the dais and the looks on
their faces. They all understood what it meant. Darry was gleeful. The rest of the Lords of the
Crownlands looked much the same.

He caught Lady Olenna staring at him from below the dais. Jae's expression revealed nothing.
Connington had ensured Jaehaerys had much practice with maintaining a neutral mask no matter
what was said or done around him.

Rhaenys looked to be on the verge of shouting but was held back by her mother, who quickly
whispered something in her ear. What a united front we have presented.

The rest of the feast proceeded in much the same fashion. They all sat at the edge of their seats
with each new topic that was brought up, all of them wondering what the King would say next. He
skirted the edge on numerous occasions but what furthered Jae's confusion was that there was no
rhyme or reason to it. Rebels or loyalists alike, Aegon did not discriminate in who he almost pissed
off.

Even Lord Darry's grin faded somewhat by the end of it.

He was drunk, that's all, he was drunk, he kept telling himself as he trekked back to his chambers.
There was no other explanation. He could afford to mock the former rebels if only he made sure to
keep the fucking loyalists happy. It wouldn't be perfect, but he wouldn't get overthrown before he
was even coronated.

''I don't think I've ever attended a more exhausting feast in my life,'' Daenerys murmured as she
walked beside him. Dany had been holding his hand the entire evening, squeezing it every time
Aegon came close to offending another Lord. Needless to say, her hand got quite the exercise and
Jae still couldn't feel the fingers on his right hand.

Jae nodded, just as tired. ''Try to keep an eye out, Dany. We have to figure out what he's thinking.''

Daenerys nodded, bleary-eyed. ''Anything for you, Jae.'' She said, then caught herself and looked at
the floor.

''Thanks, Dany.'' He said, gave her a goodnight kiss on the cheek and moved on to his own
chambers.
Tired and somewhat inebriated, he stumbled into his bed fully clothed and fell asleep, opting to
postpone his worries for a night.
 Chapter 12

The next morning at breakfast, the King was nowhere to be found.

''The King's decided to take breakfast in the privacy of his solar,'' was all Rhaenys said on the
matter. It was a somber affair, though Arianne looked amused for some reason. Jaehaerys' was
starting to feel annoyed with these dornishmen and their inability to explain what was so damn
funny.

''Jaehaerys, I was hoping you could take care of welcoming the Baratheon's to the Red Keep. I
shall take care of the Lannisters and we can welcome the Arryns together.'' Rhaenys told him when
he stood up to leave.

''What about the King?'' was on the tip of his tongue but he held back. Rhaenys seemed to
understand what he wanted to say. ''When are they arriving?''

''They should be here within the hour. You should get ready.''

Jae nodded and left, returning to his chambers. It pleased him to see Ser Jaime detached himself
from the wall and followed him. ''I see you are to remain my shield, Ser.''

''Indeed, my Prince. It has become clear to all that you would be inconsolable without me, so Ser
Gerold decided to show some mercy.'' He said with his signature cockiness.

''Strange, I've never found myself wishing a man would be a bit crueler.'' Jae japed. That got a
laugh out of the knight. ''Looking forward to reuniting with your family?''

''To be certain. I can't wait to see how Tyrion's doing.'' He said with a familiar warm smile. ''And
you, my Prince? Looking forward to meeting the honorable Lord Stark?''

''Couldn't say. I'm curious, to be sure. I don't know what to expect.''

''Annoying honesty and a revolting amount of good intentions, no doubt.'' Ser Jaime pretended to
grimace at the thought of it.

''Look at you,'' Jae laughed, ''You're not even good at acting cynical anymore.''

''My Prince, I assure you, I have never been anything but realistic.''

''Whatever you say, Ser, just don't let me catch you hugging you brother in public.'' They
exchanged looks and snorted in unison.

''Welcoming Baratheon should be interesting. They say the last time he smiled was when you
fooled Connington into lifting those trade restrictions he placed on the Stormlands.'' Ser Jaime
laughed at the memory.

Jae shot him a look of warning. It was far from the most subtle plot he'd ever executed. They
arrived to his chambers and whereas normally a knight of the Kingsguard would wait outside,
Jaime didn't even hesitate before following right into his rooms.

''What was it again? A casual remark during a session of Court that couldn't be refuted by Pycelle?''

''Well, of course not, he was too busy shitting his guts out.'' Bringing it up again had them both in
stitches. Jaehaerys had been eleven and a novice at playing people, it was by sheer luck that it
worked out.

''Do you know anything about the rest of the Baratheon family?'' Jae asked when they stopped
laughing.

''Not much more than you do.'' Jaime admitted, ''I've heard his son is quite the terror with a sword.''

''Yeah?''

''Mmm, earned his knighthood by knocking Ser Loras Tyrell on his arse a couple of moons ago at a
Tourney.''

That got Jae's eyebrows to shoot upwards. Ser Loras was supposed to be one of the finest
swordsmen in the realm. Though Jae had never seen him fight personally, there had to be some
truth to the rumors.

He picked out his finest doublet, quickly buttoning it up and made his way out of the chambers. By
the time he and Jaime reached the city walls, along with a squad of Goldcloaks, and hour had
nearly passed and they didn't have to wait long before the Baratheon party announced itself in the
form of a rising cloud of dust in the distance.

All the major Houses of the Stormlands had followed their liege lord to the capital for the King's
coronation. Houses Swann, Caron, Cafferen, Grandison along with a number of sigils he couldn't
remember. Maester Alwyn will be pissed if he ever finds out.

He nodded to them as they came to a halt before him, since Crown Princes bowed to no one but the
King, and said, ''Welcome to King's Landing, my Lords! We are honored by your presence. His
Grace King Aegon also extends his welcome and is looking forward to greeting you at the Red
Keep.''

''An honor to be here, Your Grace.'' Lord Baratheon bowed in his saddle and every single person in
his retinue followed his example. Jaehaerys spotted a young man who had to be Stannis' son and
heir by his side.

''If you don't have any more pressing concerns, I shall lead you to the Keep so you can get properly
settled after your journey.'' He told them with an amiable smile.

''Lead the way, Your Grace.'' Lord Stannis replied.

Jaehaerys gave a quick whistle and the squad of Goldcloaks parted, allowing the retinue to pass.
He mounted his horse and rode at the head of the party, Lord Stannis riding up to his side.

''I trust you've had a smooth journey, my Lord?''

''As smooth as can be,'' Stannis replied, gazing about the city with unimpressed eyes.

''And you must be Ser Orys, correct?'' Jaehaerys asked the boy riding behind Stannis.

''Aye, Your Grace, 'tis a pleasure to meet you.'' He said, looking a bit nervous.

''I hear congratulations are in order,'' Jae sought to put him at ease, ''Even in King's Landing we
have heard of how you earned your spurs. Can't be certain about the specifics, but I hear tell it
involved a certain flower being knocked on its arse.''

Jae saw Ser Jaime hide a smile as the entire Baratheon party erupted in laughter. Ser Orys ducked
his head, looking both pleased and embarrassed. Jae could've sworn he was Stannis crack a grin but
it was gone in the blink of an eye.

''Your son is a credit to you, Lord Stannis.'' He felt somewhat foolish for saying it, considering he
couldn't be more than a couple years older than him.

''Aye, he does his House proud.'' Ser Orys flushed at the praise.

''And how are Steffon and little Anna doing? She should be, what? Four by now, correct?'' he had
made sure to refresh his memory on all the members of various families over the last couple of
days.

Stannis eyed him, showing a hint of surprise at his knowledge. ''Steffon is doing well, already the
best rider out of all of us.'' Ser Orys nodded in agreement at that, ''And Anna is getting bigger by
the day and turning up her nose at anything that sounds or looks lady-like.'' There was a warm look
in Lord Stannis' eyes Jae knew not many got to see.

He chuckled at his words. ''Sounds like a proper Baratheon to me.''

There was a chorus of Aye's from the rest of the men as they rode through the gates of the Red
Keep and the party dismounted in the courtyard. Servants came forward to lead the Lords to their
chambers but Jaehaerys made sure to hold Lord Stannis back for a moment.

''Lord Baratheon,'' he said in a low tone, standing by the side of the courtyard, ''There will be a
great many discussions held in the coming days and a great many decisions made. If you don't
mind, I would very much like it if we could have a conversation about the state of the Stormlands
so that I know how best to help you achieve your aims.''

''That would be appreciated, Your Grace,'' Stannis said as he pulled off his riding cloak and handed
it to one of his grooms.

''Very well. I shall make sure to call upon you before the coronation.'' Jaehaerys nodded and made
his way from the courtyard with Ser Jaime in tow. The Lannisters had obviously already arrived
judging by the number of men in red cloaks running around.

Ser Jaime noticed too. ''Go on, go find your brother. I'll be alright.''

''Ser Gerold would have my head if I left you alone.''

Jae rolled his eyes. ''Alright, find someone to replace you and then go find your brother. If anybody
asks, tell them I ordered it.''

''Thank you, my Prince,'' Jaime said, bowed and left. Cynical my arse, Jae thought with a smile as
he watched him hurry down the corridor.

Jaehaerys intended to return to his chambers when he was coincidentally come upon by Lady
Olenna and her beloved granddaughter, Margaery.

''Your Grace!'' Margaery exclaimed in surprise and curtsied.

''Lady Olenna,'' Jae inclined his head, ''Lady Margaery. Where are you off to on this marvelous
day?''

Margaery giggled and said, ''Grandmother and I planned to have some tea in the gardens. Care to
join us?'' and then she batted her eyelashes at him. Poor girl. Everyone knew she was up there with
the best of them when it came to the games of the court, but she was a woman and so had to act the
part the innocent maid, awed and delighted by the most mundane of things. It was a shame, really.
Jae felt an honest conversation with a woman like her could be highly entertaining. Not to mention
it's been a while since someone made him feel stupid and he found he missed it.

Still, he had nothing better to do and he'd yet to gauge what the Tyrells were thinking.

''I would be honored, my Lady.'' He said and followed the two through the corridors of the Red
Keep. Margaery babbled some nonsense about the coming Tourney and all the shining knights
who would compete in it.

Jae had dubbed it 'expected talk' a long time ago. It is nothing more or less the shit one says when
one knows his words are being listened to by people other than the intended target. In Jae's case, it
meant he would talk about swordplay and past battles while occasionally revealing a non-
controversial opinion about another knight. For Margaery, it was worse. Far worse.

It came to an end when they entered the garden and made their way to a terrace overlooking the
Blackwater Bay. Tyrell servants and guards were all over the place, ensuring they could have a
private conversation.

''That's quite enough, darling.'' Lady Olenna said as they sat down. ''Prince Jaehaerys is hardly one
to be fascinated by blushing maidens and half-wits wielding sticks.''

Well, that's one way to put it.

He meant to savor the following conversation. Lady Olenna was getting on in age which meant she
could afford to say things others couldn't. If Margaery were to do it, she'd be
considered improper and discourteous. Olenna had no suitors with fragile egos she had to act
unintimidating for and so could say whatever she bloody liked.

''Grandmother!'' Margaery exclaimed, giggling. ''Your grandsons are one of them!''

''More's the pity,'' Olenna murmured and turned her attentions to Jae.

A servant girl approached, interrupting Olenna before she could utter a word, and asked, ''Care for
some tea, Your Grace?''

''Yes, thank you.'' He smiled.

She poured him a cup and quickly made herself scarce after one look from Lady Olenna.

''Now that we've all been properly served, shall we discuss the enchanting aromas and intoxicating
flavors, or shall we get down to it?'' Olenna looked at him expectantly as she took a sip.

''How crass of you, Grandmother.'' Would Margaery pretend everything Lady Olenna said was
scandalous the entire time?

''Perhaps,'' Olenna conceded, ''But it's not often I'm sat across the table from a man who's not an
utter idiot and I mean to take advantage.'' She looked at Jae. ''Do you know why we've asked you to
join us for tea, Your Grace.''

''For the pleasure of my company, I should think.'' Jae grinned, only because he didn't know why
they'd ask him to join them. Not for certain, anyway. There could be so many explanations.

''That too, yes, but I'm more interested in your plans for the coming days.''
That one took him off-guard. He took a sip of tea to buy himself time. ''My plans, my Lady? I
might be the Crown Prince, but I only serve at the pleasure of the King. It is his plans you should
be more interested in.''

''Provided he has any in the first place.'' Most would mutter, better yet whisper such a thing. Olenna
spoke it openly and observed Jae's reaction.

''I couldn't possibly comment on what the King does or does not plan to do, my Lady.'' Jae
performed an evasive maneuver.

''Well, then, let me put it this way; what do you wish to happen in the coming days?''

''Regarding what?''

''The King's policies, his appointments and even, dare I say it, his intentions in entering alliances.''
The sly look in her eyes made it plain she wanted to know Jae's opinion on who Aegon would
marry.

Fortunately for her, Jae meant to do everything in his power to see Aegon married to Margaery.

Three hundred years ago, Aegon the Dragon, in a political master-stroke worthy of legend, gave his
descendants a powerful family they could call on at any time. He'd been acutely aware of the
Reach's power. By raising up the Stewards of Highgarden, he divided the Reach, which in turn
weakened it and made it easier to control. It was a lesson on how to put a subject of the Crown in a
position where it has no choice but to be loyal.

And to think Maester's still claimed Aegon did it on a whim. As if the man who united all of
Westeros did anything on a bloody whim. Then again, the notion of Targaryen's being warriors and
madmen first and foremost has long been propagated by the Citadel. He seethed to hear them
underestimate one of the greatest men to ever set foot on Westerosi soil.

Now was the time to collect on the benefits of Aegon's wisdom. It was time to provide the Tyrells
with an infusion of Royal blood and cement their claim on Highgarden, ensuring the Crown had a
powerful ally few would dare challenge.

Jae could admit it might prove to be a short-sighted move. Giving the Tyrells complete power over
the Reach meant they'll be able to do anything they like in a generation. We have to survive this
generation first, though, and it's not as if we have many other options.

Martells were already on-board, Baratheons had no girl of a proper age to offer and neither did the
Arryns. That left the Tullys, the Lannisters, and the Starks. They already had Jae, so no need to
make Eddard Starks daughter Queen, the Tullys were about as useful as a chastity belt in a brothel
and allowing Tywin Lannister a family bond with the Crown would be akin to asking for trouble.

Thus, Margaery Tyrell.

''I am sure the King shall weigh the matter of alliances carefully and choose a House who's long
proven itself a leal servant of the Crown, worthy of the honor and the recognition.'' The way Lady
Olenna's eyes lit up, the message had been delivered.

''I see,'' she murmured, Margaery by her side doing her best not to appear too gleeful. Her mind-set
presented another problem entirely. I'll cross that bridge when I get there. ''And your ideas of how
to handle the former rebels?''

''I shall have to defer to the King on that matter once he makes his opinion known.''
''Oh, come now, Your Grace; we both know there are certain... ways a man such as yourself might
come to exert influence.'' She smiled over the rim of her cup.

Like learning all there is to know about the King's closest advisors and black-mailing them until
they don't make a single suggestion without him approving it? Yes, Jae considered finding pressure
points and pressing down on them until he had men begging for the chance to obey him a specialty
of his.

But Olenna didn't have to know that and besides, it was time for this little interrogation to become
a two-way street. ''And how exactly would you like me to exert this influence you speak of?''

''House Tyrell would like nothing better than to reestablish somewhat closer bonds with the other
kingdoms, especially considering our potentially closer ties to the Crown.'' The look in her eyes
made him wary. Was she threatening him? Telling him she would support any plans for peace if
Margaery was made Queen and undermine them if she was not?

''Somewhat closer bonds?'' Jae repeated. She wanted to eradicate causes for resentment among the
former rebels but wasn't about to compete with them for favor with the Crown, the sneaky twat.

''Many sons of the Reach perished fighting the rebels during the Rebellion, Your Grace.'' She said,
a tone of warning in her voice. She might as well have screamed, 'Don't you dare fight for
reconciliation!'

Jae thought her argument wouldn't go far with the rebels, especially if she mentioned the cost of
the rebellion to the Starks. How many men can die feasting outside of Storm's End anyway?

It would've have riled Jae up if he didn't know better. Just as men drop their ideals of honor and
nobility if they perceive a benefit in doing so, so too do they let go of their lust for vengeance if the
prospect of peace appears more profitable than war.

He only had to find a venture which would unite them all and he'd see the Queen of Thorns forget
all about 'the lost sons of the Reach' overnight.

''You consider the cost to have been too high?'' he asked. It was quite pleasing to the eye to see her
backtrack. She knew no cost could be too high when serving the Crown, or at least knew better
than to claim otherwise.

''Of course not, Your Grace,'' Margaery spoke up for the first time, voice smooth as honey. ''House
Tyrell has always been willing to make the required sacrifice in service of the King.'' Jae was
coming to believe the two worked in tandem; Olenna would prick you with her thorns and
Margaery would be there in the next instant to apply some balm and make it all better.

''An admirable sentiment,'' He commented, ''You will find the notion applies in the strengthening of
your ties to the Crown.''

He watched them take his words in, exchanging a quick look. Yes, my Lady, I'm perfectly willing to
hold Aegon's marriage to Margaery hostage in exchange for your cooperation.

''You're in no position to make any guarantees,'' Lady Olenna put an end to the obfuscation.

Jae shrugged, a smile blossoming. ''I suppose you know someone who is?''

Well, even the Queen of Thorns had no answer to that.

 Chapter 13

''You met with the Tyrells?'' Rhaenys asked, attempting to sound casual, as they waited by the
docks, a ship with a falcon on its sails looming ever closer.

''I have.'' He wondered how many servants she managed to buy off in the day she'd been in King's
Landing.

''Anything of interest to the Crown?'' she looked up at him, a challenge in her eyes.

''All of it, as I'm sure you're aware.'' He replied, his eyes locked on the ship that carried the Lord of
the Vale.

''It would be... prudent for us to have a discussion regarding certain matters. Just to make sure we
are on the same page, you see.'' She added the last part with a degree of hesitation. Unwilling to
alienate me, that's promising.

''Perhaps it would be better if you told me your views and I'll make sure to adjust.''

''Even if you disagreed with me?''

''Many roads lead to Valyria,'' he looked down at her with a smile and shrugged, ''I'm adaptable.''

She stared up at him for a few moments before giving a firm nod. ''Aegon has invited you for a
drink before the welcoming feast.''

''His Grace honors me, I'd be happy to attend such a gathering,'' Jae said, a slight smile playing
upon his lips.

''You misunderstand, brother. It will be just the two of you.''

''I see,'' he nodded to himself, ''I'd be happy for the chance to get to know His Grace better.''

''I do believe Aegon shares those sentiments,'' The tone of her voice implied that might not be a
good thing.

Jae said nothing, only looked down at her, waiting for her to elaborate. ''He's been waiting to meet
you for a long time, that's all.'' It only made him doubt it more. Oh, well.

He looked ahead to find the Arryn ship had already docked and the representatives of the Vale
were disembarking, led by their liege lord.

Lord Arryn was a man well on in his years and it showed. Grey hair, weathered face and he
seemed to be missing some teeth. One could be forgiven for forgetting all about it, however, if
they saw his eyes. This one had come ready to brawl. Behind him, the Lords of the Vale looked
much the same.

''My Lords, welcome to King's Landing,'' Jaehaerys spoke up. He had agreed with Rhaenys that he
should do most of the talking. ''His Grace King Aegon also extends his welcome. I trust your
journey was smooth?''

''The seas were kind, Your Grace, thank you.'' Lord Arryn replied, his smile kind. ''If I may say so,
you look remarkably like your Uncle Eddard did at your age.''
Jae bowed his head, ''That is kind of you to say, my Lord.'' But this was no time to reminisce. ''We
have prepared chambers for you and your party. If you will follow me, we'll get you settled in. I
am sure you are weary after such a journey.''

They seemed relieved at his words, no doubt itching to lie down for a little while. Horses were
brought forth for the entire party and they rode back to the Keep.

''If I may ask, Your Grace, when is the coronation to take place?'' Lord Arryn asked as they rode.

''The day after tomorrow, my Lord. The Tullys and the Stark parties are set to arrive tomorrow.''

''Ah, old Ned,'' Arryn sighed, memories of years long past clouding his mind. ''It will be good to see
him again.''

Rhaenys looked like she had to bite her tongue to stop herself from saying something unpleasant.
Jae rolled his eyes inwardly. Why is it so damn hard for people to adopt a diplomatic mask?

''I'm sure he feels the same way, my Lord.'' Jae smiled, not knowing what else to say.

''And when will we get the chance to address the King regarding our grievances?'' Lord Waynwood
spoke up from behind them. He wasn't much for subtlety if Jae recalled correctly. The rest of the
Lords riding behind them shifted in their seats, eyes on Jaehaerys to see how he would react.

''There will be a council held the day after the Coronation in two days,'' Jaehaerys replied, worried
Rhaenys might resort to some inflammatory rhetoric if given half the chance. ''The Lords of the
Realm will get the chance to voice their concerns then.'' Because his words and his tone were so
amiable, he made sure to give Lord Waynwood a sharp look to remind him he'd be better served to
keep his mouth shut.

''You must forgive Lord Waynwood, Your Grace,'' Lord Arryn sought to soften the blow, ''But you
know better than most that our people have suffered terribly these past fifteen years.''

''King Aegon has come to assume his throne now, my Lord. I assure, that suffering will become a
thing of the past.'' Rhaenys spoke up at exactly the wrong moment. Of course, she would say that,
she is his sister. It would have been much more convincing if it was Jaehaerys who said it, since he
liked to believe he'd won a measure of trust from the Lords of the Vale over the years.

''And, if I may ask,'' It was clear Arryn was barely holding back, ''Why did this suffering have to
happen at all?''

''The Royal Family has sent many messages to the capital, demanding Lord Connington change his
policies over the years. Unfortunately, most were ignored.'' She feigned remorse in excellent
fashion.

''A Lord Regent? Ignoring the demands of the Royal family? What was he thinking?'' Arryn cried
in outrage.

''Unfortunately, we will never know.'' Rhaenys lamented.

Yes, because he's dead and can't defend himself. Jaehaerys felt he'd stumbled across another reason
why Connington was tried and executed in such swift fashion. Gods know how many crimes will
be pinned on him.

Jon Connington was gone, but Jae doubted House Connington would ever recover from the
revilement they were sure to suffer in the coming years. The Martells have well and truly fucked
them.

Perhaps she did speak up at exactly the right moment, Jae thought sheepishly.

''Well, I look forward to addressing the King,'' Arryn said, his voice a touch warmer. Is this what
honorable men look like? Gullible idiots, who take you at your word? He supposed he shouldn't
complain. Explaining why the Martells did not intercede in Connington's affairs was one of his
greatest concerns. If some chose to believe the story, all the better for it.

They reached the courtyard of the Red Keep and the Lords of the Vale were swiftly taken to their
chambers. Rhaenys stood with him, watching them leave.

''Uncle Oberyn was right, you really are good at this.''

''Stop, you're going to make me blush.'' Jae deadpanned.

Rhaenys smiled. ''Come let us take a walk.''

Jaime and Ser Arthur followed them as they made their way to the Godswood. The roses and the
trees bloomed all around them, filling their nostrils with earthy smells, and the light of the setting
sun bathed the garden in golden light. Jaehaerys loved moments like these.

''You know we'll have to work together when it comes to Aegon?'' Was her revelation that Aegon
wouldn't be the driving force behind progress intentional or accidental? He dearly hoped it was the
former.

''That question implies a great many things, I'm sure you know.'' He said, his tone idle, hands
behind his back as he gazed about the Godswood.

Rhaenys sighed. She did not want to say it but knew she had no choice. ''Aegon—he resents a great
many things. His reason demands he makes peace but his emotions...''

''Demand retribution?'' Jae had long suspected that most of Westerosi political problems could be
explained if one considered that most of Westerosi Lords were little more than spoiled brats,
unable to put affairs of the state ahead of their own petty grievances. It might be acceptable in a
minor Lord, but the Gods know it isn't acceptable in a King.

''Something like that,'' Rhaenys admitted, biting her lip. ''He's going to need our help to make the
right decision.''

''Assuming he will listen, of course.'' Jae dropped the bait, praying to the Gods she took it.

''I can't be sure.'' She sounded despondent. I wonder why? ''These days he doesn't seem to listen to
anyone outside his little circle of would-be warriors.''

Jaehaerys wanted to dance. Circle of would-be warriors, is it? He assumed she must be referring to
the gaggle of knights who'd come with him from Dorne. Jae would have to pick them apart and
find someone useful. The problem was the liberal views of the dornish. Threaten a knight of the
Vale with revealing the existence of his bastard and he becomes as submissive as a puppy. The
same doesn't work on a dornishman. He had to find something uglier. All his spies were had been
digging for a while. It was time they produced some results.

''And what do these little legends whisper in his ear?'' he asked, his tone harsh and demanding.

''The glories of war.'' Well, that just won't do. Jaehaerys would slaughter them all before he'd let a
bunch of fools ruin his plans.

''Mmm, I assume my Uncle is at the top of their list?''

Rhaenys only nodded. Someone's going to die.

''Do they understand the strategic implications of moving against the Tully's?'' It was the only
option since one cannot invade the North or the Vale and hope to live. Jae always thought allying
with the Tullys was the same as asking to be dragged into every war in Westeros.

''That's not what you should be concerned about. Aegon's not crazy, he won't start a war just for
war's sake. But there are other, smaller matters on which he might listen to them.'' She gave him a
meaningful look. Like who to appoint to the Small Council.

Ser Daemon Sand, Ser Cletus Yronwood, Ser Gerris Drinkwater, Ser Willam Wells. These were the
knights that came with Aegon. This were the men Jaehaerys meant to tare apart. But which one of
them is competent? Finding and creating a puppet is all good and well, but the puppet in question
has to have some brains of his own if he's to do one's bidding. Gods, I don't have enough time. He
had wanted to place spies in Sunspear for a long time but could never manage it. He didn't have
associates he trusted enough to send to Dorne to find spies for him and none of the dornishmen he
could turn came to the capital. Fuck!

''What is he like, the King? What is the nature of his character?'' Jae asked, to the point and with
nothing held back. He had enough of vague answers and flimsy promises. He stopped in place and
turned to face Rhaenys.

She had trouble meeting his eye. ''He—uh, he's idealistic. You should've heard him growing up. He
wouldn't shut up about how he would reunite the realm and usher in a golden age. There was no
one happier when stories began to filter through about your exploits at Court. He said the two of
you would do it together.''

The little tale left Jae far from impressed. ''So what changed?''

''I—I don't know. Maybe someone was whispering in his ear. Maybe he became afraid. But no one
has been sure of what he plans to do ever since.'' She sounded desperate and frustrated, and guilty.
Jae didn't know what to make of it and it certainly didn't explain why his arrival to the capital was
held off for so long. There was so much Rhaenys was keeping from him. He could smell it.

He had no choice but to hold off on investigating the mystery, though. Bigger fish to fry.

''I see,'' he nodded, ''Thank you for telling me. Now if you'll excuse me, I have to go.''

He made to leave when she said, ''What will you do?''

He put on a charming smile and said, ''Why, share a cup of wine with the King, what else?''

He walked out of the Godswood, Ser Jaime behind him. Even he knew better than to say anything.
He'd undoubtedly heard much and had a good idea of what was going through Jae's head. Since the
evening feast would start in less than an hour, Jaehaerys went to his chambers, put on his finest
clothes, picked out his present and proceeded to make his way to the King's chambers.

Ser Barristan was waiting outside and, after announcing Jaehaerys, allowed him inside. The King's
chambers were as expansive as his own. The only difference was the sitting room in Jae's chambers
was a dining room in the King's. Candles burned through the room, bathing it in a warm glow, and
Jae found the King sitting at the table, his favorite knights arrayed around him.
Aegon stood and his knights stood with him. Jae observed them for the looks in their eyes.
''Brother!'' Aegon said, ''How good of you to come. These men were just leaving, but I'm sure
you'll get a chance to meet them another time.''

They didn't seem to know they were leaving until Aegon said it, but nodded to him and made their
way out. Jae took care to note three of them nodded to him on their way out and one did not. Ser
Gerris Drinkwater. That might cost him.

''Come, come, take a seat, Jaehaerys,'' Aegon said with a smile. ''May I call you Jaehaerys? I'm
ashamed to admit I never asked.''

''Of course, I would be honored,'' Jae said as he took a seat. Interestingly enough, Aegon did not
point out a seat on the opposite side of the table, but the one right next to him. He placed the
package on the table.

''Come, no need for such formal talk, though I can't say I'm surprised by the way I behaved
yesterday.''

''It was no—''

''No, no – no need to excuse it. I know it was unacceptable and I'd like to apologize.'' He poured
them both a measure of wine.

Jaehaerys bowed his head in acceptance. He felt saying it out-loud would be pushing his luck.

''Rhaenys tells me you've welcomed the Baratheons to the capital with aplomb. How was he?
Stannis, I mean?'' he asked, leaning forth, eyes curious.

''I won't lie to you, Aegon, they've all come to see what you'll do about the injustices they suffered
under Connington.'' Jae chose to be honest. He knew very well the entire affair could be a ploy by
Aegon to learn his mind, but there was no harm in exposing the views of others.

Aegon nodded. He looked as if he expected that very answer. ''I suppose that's fair. Connington
wasn't the wisest of men.''

''Certainly not,'' Jae chuckled, taking a sip of wine.

''And what do you think should be my course of action?'' Aegon asked, looking genuinely
interested in hearing the answer.

But Jae had no intention of laying his cards on the table so easily even if he saw how this version
of Aegon could inspire countless men to flock to him. It could be a ruse. ''I wouldn't presume to
tell what you should do, Aegon. I have a certain amount of influence among certain members of the
Court and a well of creativity to manage those among whom I don't. Both are at your disposal, to
serve you as you see fit.''

Aegon chuckled, taking another sip of wine. ''Presuming I know what I'm doing, of course.''

''That implies you think I do,'' Jae said with a grin. He all but continued and told Aegon how the
two of them, boys who had yet to see their seventeenth nameday, were the only ones who could
steer the centuries-old dynasty they represented. He held back. That would be too familiar, too
presumptuous.

Thus, he was surprised by what Aegon said next. ''The two of us, huh? Two clueless guys trying to
take on the weight of legends and monsters.''
''Sounds like the stuff songs are made of,'' Jae said, hoping beyond hope Aegon would stir. When
Rhaenys told him Aegon dreamed they'd usher in a golden age together, she inadvertently hit upon
Jae's greatest dreams as well. As a lonely boy in King's Landing, fighting off all the sharks who
wanted to take a pound of flesh, he dreamt of it. Him and Aegon, riding forth to battle together to
put an end to all who seek to get in the way of prosperity. Side by side navigating the games of
King's Landing to fool to wicked and the foolish into doing exactly what they wanted. He dreamt it
still! But he just couldn't... couldn't be the one to take the first step. A thousand suspicions
screamed he should be wary and only his dream whispered he should take the leap of faith.

Aegon nodded. ''I wish—'' he stopped himself, a look Jae couldn't recognize coming over his face.
He knew he'd lost him, though. ''We shall have to do our best, I suppose.'' But his voice was sad,
tired. There was a wistful look in his eyes as he stared at him and Jae couldn't fathom why.

''Our best will be enough, I think.'' Jae said, ''Our father's the one who did the hard part when he
won the war.''

Jae bit his tongue too late, thinking he had given Aegon a reminder that the only reason he didn't
have a father was because he'd been born. But Aegon did not grow angry. He merely nodded, even
more downtrodden. ''Our father—yes. We shall have to do him proud.'' He went to take another sip
of wine but stopped himself and pushed the cup away instead. His eyes found the present Jae had
placed on the table and he said, ''What's that?''

Jae had nearly forgotten. ''Oh, it's a little present I commissioned for you.'' He slid the package to
Aegon who quickly went about unwrapping it. When his eyes found the crown inside, they went
wide.

''It's made from Valyrian steel and has the insignia of the three major religions of Westeros. I had
hoped it would become a sign of a King who ruled over a people, one and all.'' Jae said, voice soft
and somewhat hesitant. He feared rejection on that one, feared it gave too much away.

Aegon looked moved by it, choking up for a moment. ''It—It is magnificent, thank you.''

Jae nodded, relieved. It went far better than he feared. Aegon carefully placed the crown back on
the table and said, ''It is getting late. I think we should head down to the feast.''

Jae nodded. ''I shall wait outside and we can go together?''

Aegon agreed and Jae went to stand outside with Ser Barristan and Ser Jaime, both of whom were
silent, staring at the opposite wall. These knights made for such dull company, even Jaime when
he had no choice but to pretend he was like the rest of them.

Aegon emerged from his chambers a few minutes later and together they all made their way to the
Throne Room once more. The rest of the Royal Family was waiting for them and even Arianne
deigned to make an appearance this time. Jae was quickly paired with her while Ser Arthur was
asked to escort Daenerys.

''Met your brother, I see.'' Arianne murmured as they walked down the middle of the Throne Room.

Jae could only nod. The Throne Room was noticeably more full this time and the eyes of four
Great Lords followed them. The night before they were welcomed with smiles. This time the
number of grim men who tracked their process with suspicious eyes was glaringly higher. Lord
Tywin and his little pack of lions looked quite menacing, the two golden beauties by his side most
of all.
''No need to look so grim, you'll figure him out eventually.''

''I don't have time to play your little games right now, Arianne.'' He said through clenched teeth.

''So grumpy,'' she giggled, ''I suppose I should sneak into your room after the feast and help you
relax.'' She whispered just as they parted, each headed for their end of the dais, her licking her lips
and Jae glaring sternly.

It was another long feast, but at least Aegon did not have them on the edge of their seats with his
comments. With Baratheons, Lannisters, Tyrells and Arryns present, Jae doubted his lapses would
be forgotten as quickly.

By the time it ended, finding Arianne naked in his bed seemed more an enticing prospect than a
complication.
 Chapter 14

The entire Court was arrayed in the courtyard of the Red Keep, prepared to welcome the Tullys
and the Starks. Most weren't too happy about it. Treacherous cunts did not warrant such a grand
reception according to them and it didn't help Aegon had decided to attend this time as well.

Jae stood by Aegon's side, keenly aware of all the looks aimed his way. The spectacle had begun
and the crescendo fast approached. He liked to think he had a good idea of where all the major
players stood; Arryn wanted justice, Baratheon wanted revenge and Tywin wanted his
granddaughter to become Queen.

The only one who wouldn't get at least a portion of what he wanted would be Tywin, but that did
not worry Jae. Tywin was a man who liked to hold all the cards before he made a move for all that
he was hailed as a great military commander and a brilliant politician. He would not take major
risks and jeopardize his legacy by cooking up a plot. If he were that type of a man, he'd have gone
against Aerys when he refused to marry Rhaegar to Cersei or he'd have joined Robert Baratheon in
his rebellion.

But Tywin did neither because Tywin was smart enough to know that taking control of the Court
wasn't the same as taking control of the Realm.

Jae's only job in the case of Tywin Lannister was to keep the cards he so desperately sought out of
his hands. Baratheon had to be appeased, Arryn mollified. He did not worry about the Starks; his
Uncle would never rebel as long as Jae lived, that much was certain.

The sound of hoofbeats was heard in the distance and the gates of the Red Keep creaked open.
Riders poured through, carrying the banners of the Starks and the Tullys. The men he'd been
waiting for followed closely after them.

The appearances of the riders confused him for a few moments, but he remembered Robb Stark
supposedly took after his mother. It explained why he looked so similar to Edmure Tully. Eddard
Stark himself was a grim man, looking about the Red Keep with hooded eyes, examining the
gathered party until his eyes settled on Jae.

They all dismounted and approached Aegon, Lord Stark leading the way. Robb Stark was right
behind him, Edmure Tully at his side. Together, they all went down on one knee.

The eyes of the Court turned to Aegon. All wondered what he would do now that the biggest force
behind the Rebellion stood before him, Robert Baratheon notwithstanding. Connington hated the
man, claimed him the cause of Rhaegar's death on the Trident. Even after Baratheon fell, Eddard
Stark continued the fight and with his northern wolves behind him pushed the Royal forces to the
breaking point. It took the combined efforts of Ser Jonothor Darry and Prince Rhaegar to beat Stark
to his knees.

''Rise, my Lords,'' Aegon said, voice solemn. ''Welcome to King's Landing.''

The three men got back to their feet and bowed their heads. ''A pleasure to be here, Your Grace.''

''I'd like you to meet my sister, the Princess Rhaenys.'' The three of them bowed to her. ''And of
course, your nephew, the Prince Jaehaerys.''

''It is good to meet you at last, Lord Stark,'' Jae said, his hands a bit clammy. He wiped them on the
back of his trousers as he nodded to Robb Stark and Lord Edmure.
The stone mask on Lord Stark's face cracked and a smile shone through. ''It is good to see you
again, my Prince. It has been too long.''

''It has indeed, my Lord,'' Jae replied, watching Aegon from the corner of his eye.

''Chambers have been prepared for you and your men, my Lords,'' Aegon spoke up, ''I'm sure you're
anxious to reacquaint with your nephew.''

Lord Stark bowed his head and Aegon left the courtyard, his Kingsguard in tow. The rest of the
Court, apart from those with ties to the Tullys and the Starks quickly made themselves scarce as
well. Lord Stark stepped closer, putting his hand on Jae's shoulder.

''You look just like your mother, lad.'' He said with a warm smile.

''Lord Arryn seems to think I look much like you, my Lord.'' Jae smiled.

A light chuckle escaped the lips of this cold Lord. ''I suppose that's true,'' he turned back and
gestured for his Heir to approach. ''This is my son and Heir, Robb. The rest of my family has stayed
behind in Winterfell.'' A bit odd if not entirely unexpected. Though come to think of it, none of the
former rebels brought anyone but their Heirs to the capital. A sign of caution, perhaps, and not
entirely unwarranted either.

He shook hands with Robb Stark, this Tully-looking wolf. ''A pleasure to meet you.''

''The pleasure is mine, Your Grace.'' He had a firm handshake and did not have trouble meeting
Jae's eyes. Good signs both. The two shared a respectful nod.

''I was hoping we could have a conversation in private, Your Grace.'' Lord Stark said and the look
in his eyes told Jae he did not need any rest from the journey.

''Of course, Lord Stark, follow me.'' He saw Lord Stark look back at his men and added, ''Do not
worry, the servants will have your men settled in.''

Lord Stark nodded and followed him, Robb Stark right behind. Edmure Tully was not invited to
come along and so was left standing in the courtyard like a fool before he quickly walked away as
if he had somewhere urgent to be.

Jae took them to his own chambers since there was no hope of privacy in the open spaces, the Keep
overflowing with guests as it was.

They settled on the balcony and Jae had a steward bring them some wine. After they'd all been
served a cup, Jae said, ''What did you want to discuss, my Lord?''

''Please, Your Grace, you may call me Uncle Ned if you like. There's no need for such formality
between family.'' The tone of his voice implied he did not say so as to take advantage of their
familial relation but because he genuinely wished for a closer relationship.

''Uncle Ned it is. And please, call me Jaehaerys.'' Jae said, taking a sip of wine. ''I imagine you
wish to talk about the trade restrictions on the North?''

''Not at all. King Aegon will lift them or he will not. I have more important concerns.'' His voice
was determined and Robb Stark by his side looked much the same.

Jae, however, couldn't think of a single matter that could be more important. Except if something
had happened to his family? ''And what would that be?''
''I would like you to know I shall do everything in my power to convince King Aegon to release
you so that you may travel back to Winterfell with us, to live in the home of your mother.'' Lord
Stark looked like he expected Jae to be thrilled by the notion.

''Why would you do that?'' Jae asked with a frown.

Eddard exchanged a look with Robb. ''Don't you want to come live in the North?'' Robb Stark
asked, perplexed.

Do I? It had never seemed like a realistic possibility and so Jae had never considered it. ''Can't say
I do.''

That left them shocked. ''You can't mean to tell me you want to live in this snake pit of a city!''

Jae eyed him carefully. He had a feeling what was the matter. ''That's my Uncle speaking.''

''I am your Uncle!'' He wasn't angry like Jae might've expected him to be. He sounded sad.

''You are, but your duty to me as my Uncle cannot come before your duty to the Realm as the Lord
of the North.''

''I'm not about to allow politics to keep me away from my nephew!'' Ned said, some anger brewing
in those cold grey eyes. He did not care for the explanation.

''You should.'' Jae did not even blink. ''I'm your only ally in the capital since neither Stannis
Baratheon nor Jon Arryn curry any sort of favor from the Crown. I'm the only one who can make
sure your people don't become collateral damage in the courtly games.''

They both stared at him, mulling over his words. Clearly, they disagreed, or at least Eddard did, but
could not think of an argument to overcome his reasoning. ''You're my family, Jaehaerys, I just
want you to be safe.''

''I understand that.'' He smiled, ''And I appreciate it, truly, I do. But I have to stay in the capital;
there are too many people hell-bent on causing chaos for me to be comfortable in leaving.''

''You're a boy of five-and-ten, Jaehaerys. It's not your fault this city's drowning in greed and
ambition.'' He said.

''Not my fault, no, but it is my responsibility,'' Jae's smiled turned bitter. ''Only those who wish to
ignore the hard truths claim otherwise. Like it or not, I am an important pawn in the game. If I were
to go North with you, it would open the gates for all those who court chaos to scheme their way
right into another civil war. And being in the North would mean I'd have no chance of stopping
them.''

''And how exactly would that happen?'' Robb asked, sounding dubious. This one has no idea what
men in the capital are capable of.

''Oh, let me think... perhaps there'd be an attempt on the King's life. It would be foiled, of course,
but the breadcrumbs would lead straight to me. The King would have no choice since he'd fear
coming off as weak in front of his subjects. So he'd send a raven to Winterfell, demanding I be
brought to the capital at once for trial. But your father wouldn't acquiesce, believing the King was
hoping to get rid of me. And ta-da, you've got yourself a war.''

Robb Stark stared wide-eyed, shaking his head slightly as if to convince himself it wasn't possible.
Jae leaned forth to drive home the point. ''We are standing on a knife-edge right now. All it takes is
one mistake and there will be a war and make no mistake, the list of men who thirst for one
is extensive.'' War is a profitable affair, always has been. During his bad days, Jae feels peace has
no chance of competing.

''All the more reason to get you out of King's Landing!'' Eddard growled, disturbed by the picture
Jae painted.

''I am not running!'' Jae raised his voice for the first time. ''If you attempt to go behind my back, I
assure you, you will fail, Uncle. I will stay right where I am and do my utmost to stabilize the
realm. And if everything should go wrong,'' he shrugged, nonchalant, ''I have contingencies in
place to ensure no one will be taking my head anytime soon.''

Eddard went to open his mouth but Robb put his hand on his shoulder and shook his head. Lord
Eddard sagged back in his chair. ''Is there anything we can do to help?''

Jae smiled. He liked this one. ''Yes, there is, actually. I need you to publicly accept me staying in
the capital as a hostage. I am not one, not really, and everyone knows it. But still, it would be
useful if the King could say that I am.''

''Why?'' Robb asked, puzzled, while his father looked on in outrage.

''It's a good bargaining chip. If the King can claim he has the North under control through me, he
can lift all trade restrictions without having it said he's going too easy on the former rebels.'' He
thought of the plan in case Aegon decided to act like an ass on the day it would be proposed.

He doubted Lord Eddard would go along with it, and it looked Robb did as well, for he spoke up
before his father could get the chance. ''And how would we go about doing that?''

''You are to request I go back North with you and you are to be refused.''

''That's all?''

Jae nodded.

''You can't expect me to go along with this!'' Eddard seethed. ''To stand before my people and tell
them I put politics ahead of family.''

''Why not?'' Jae asked, genuinely confused. ''It is a sure sign of a good Lord.''

''That is not the way of the North, Your Grace.'' Robb cut in. ''You are beloved of our people. They
would ride to war for you any day.''

Jae did not know that. Why would they love him? He'd never been to the North and he doubted
being the son of Lyanna Stark would get him far, considering how many Northmen died during
the Rebellion. The affection these two were showing him was surprising enough.

''Then tell them it was my choice. As much as I appreciate their support,'' that part he said with a
hint of sarcasm, ''I do not want anyone to ride to war for me. Not now, not ever.''

Even Eddard Stark looked to understand that. Jae could see ghosts dancing in his eyes. ''I
promised. I promised Lyanna I would protect you and I failed time and time again. You cannot
make me fail again.''

''You have not failed. I am here, alive and well, am I not?'' Jae tried to lighten the situation.
''Because you grew up too fast and learned to take care of yourself.'' Eddard looked like a man in
mourning. Jae's heart broke for him. He would have liked nothing better than to grow up in
Winterfell, spar with Robb and go hunting in that Wolfswood he read so much about.

But those days were gone and running off to the North wouldn't achieve anything. He would not
pine for his lost childhood.

''The method of how we got here is irrelevant. You want to protect me? Help me put the realm to
rights and I shall be able to visit Winterfell whenever I like.'' He smiled at the thought of it. He
would very much like that.

Eddard stared at him and Jae knew he was coming to grips not only with this decision, but also all
the past decisions that brought them to this point. A smile full of memories and grief appeared. ''I
suppose I should have known no son of Lyanna would be told what to do.''

''Yes, perhaps you should have.'' Jae chuckled, pouring them both another cup of wine. ''Now that
that's settled, I demand stories. Anything you know, everything you remember.''

And a weight lifted of Eddards shoulders as he eagerly recounted stories of his childhood at
Winterfell, eyes far away and voice full of warmth and melancholy.

An hour later, Jaehaerys exited his chambers, Uncle Eddard and Robb having left a bit earlier. He
had another move to make before the evening's feast.

He walked through the halls of the Keep, Ser Jaime right behind him. He did not comment on Ser
Jaime being quieter than usual. He assumed it had something to do with the arrival of his family or
the general amount of people milling about the Keep that kept him on his toes. He did wonder
about some of the strange looks he sent his way throughout the day, though.

Still, he didn't have the time to go pulling on that particular thread. He had a date.

He knocked on the door. They had taken the longer route to their destination and made sure no one
had seen where they'd gone. The doors creaked open to reveal a very surprised-looking knight.

''Hello, Ser Daemon.'' Jae's smile was razor-sharp. ''May I come in?''

''Uh, yes, yes, of course, Your Grace.'' He stepped aside and opened the doors wide. He and Jaime
stepped inside, which seemed to surprise the dornish knight.

''Can't have Ser Jaime standing outside, these Kingsguard knights are like flagpoles when it comes
to announcing the presence of royals,'' Jae said with a wry smile. The chambers were modest
enough, with a spartan bed, a desk and a table by the small window with two chairs.

''Of course,'' Ser Daemon replied, gesturing for them to take a seat. He regained his bearing with
impressive speed. It furthered Jae's belief he had chosen the right man.

''Now, you must be wondering what exactly I am doing in your chambers, hmm?''

''To be honest, Your Grace, I had been expecting you would come to threaten or extort me for a
long time.'' Uuh, check out the balls on Ser Daemon! Yes, I definitely picked the right one.

Jae turned to Ser Jaime and said, ''Would you look at that? We're not dealing with an idiot for
once.''

''Thank the Gods, Your Grace, I've been getting tired of listening to you try to talk some sense into
idiots.'' Ser Jaime's famous dry tone was in full effect.

''But I've done nothing you could use, Your Grace, nothing you can hold over my head... meaning
no disrespect, of course.'' Men find themselves in such amusing spots when they think they've out-
witted an opponent but can't show their smugness because the opponent in question is a Prince. A
bit unfair to them, to be honest.

And Ser Daemon was right. Jae had nothing on him. His spies had come up short. They helped
give Jae an idea of the man he was dealing with but gave him nothing to use. Different methods
would crack this particular nut.

''You're quite right, Ser, I have nothing on you. But you're a smart man. Just as you expected I
might try to extort you, you expected I might try to do some other things.'' Jae said, letting the
implication hang in the air, wondering if Ser Daemon would snatch it.

''Whatever do you mean, Your Grace?'' The sly look in his eyes told Jae all he had to know.

He leaned back in his seat, crossing his legs. It's what Maester Alwyn always did before he began
to lecture. ''You know, when I was studying the histories, I had learned many things. About the
many Kings, and their many friends. But those friends...'' he shook his head, ''Such fascinating
characters. Some were genuine. Some thought their proximity to the King made them royals in
their own right and then there were some...'' he gave Ser Daemon a frank look, ''Who understood
that their access to the King was a commodity and so would have to be very careful in who they
parlayed with.'' He allowed a pause. ''Which kind of friend are you, Ser Daemon?''

He knew the answer, but could he get Ser Daemon to say it out loud? Did he have to balls to say it?
Jae wagered he did. This man had bedded Princess Arianne and then asked Prince Doran for his
permission to marry her. This one wanted more than his lot in life, even if bastards in Dorne were
treated very well in comparison to the other kingdoms.

''I like to think I would make sure only the best advice could reach the King through me,'' he
hedged his bets.

''Oh, well said, Ser, well said.'' Jae nodded in approval, ''And would you consider me to be a good
source of advice?''

''I would, Your Grace,'' he nodded, very careful.

''And you know what? I would consider you to be an excellent Commander of the City Watch.
Would you agree with this assessment.''

Now Ser Daemon had a hard time to keep from smiling. He nodded.

''Then I have some propositions you will pass on to the King. And you will make sure they cut
through the noise those other idiots make, is that understood?'' Jae's tone got harsher, making Ser
Daemon sit up straight.

''Yes, Your Grace.''

''Good, very good. When the time comes to pick the members of his Small Council, I'm sure the
King will be thrilled at the thought of his good friend commanding the Gold Cloaks. Who better,
huh?''

''Yes, Your Grace.''

Jae nodded, giving Ser Daemon a dubious look, just so the man wouldn't get too comfortable, and
walked out of his chambers without another word. We shall see.
 Chapter 15

This feasting business was starting to get on his nerves. Three feasts in three nights and they were
far from over. He sat on the dais, swirling wine in his cup, wondering if he could be as useful if he
got blind drunk every night. Probably not.

He looked around the Throne Room. The tables before the dais were cleared so as to make room
for dancing and the evening's guests were taking full advantage. Aegon danced with Margaery, as
per Jae's suggestion, which earned him a nod of approval from the Queen of Thorns. His cousin
Robb was also drawing a lot of attention from the young Ladies of the Court who seemed to have
forgotten he was the son of a traitor. Jae smiled watching him dance with the daughter of Lord
Rosby. She wouldn't get the nighttime tumble she hoped for, that much he could tell. Robb was far
too determined to ignore her batting eyelashes.

The song came to an end and some left the floor, others switched partners and waited for the next
song to begin. That's when none other than Myrcella Lannister, the golden beauty of the West
approached the dais. ''Would you care for a dance, Your Grace?'' she asked.

Daenerys giggled by his side at his dumbstruck look. He had not expected to be asked to dance.
Ladies rarely, if ever, did something like that. It also meant he had no choice but to accept.

''Of course, my Lady.'' He said, putting on his most charming smile. He stood from his seat, moved
around the dais and led Lady Myrcella to the middle of the dance floor.

''You look radiant tonight, my Lady.'' He told her as the musicians began a slow song and the dance
resumed.

She blushed in the practiced way of the ladies of the Court and avoided his eyes. ''Thank you, Your
Grace.''

Jae wasn't lying either. It was said Lady Cersei had been the most beautiful maiden in Westeros in
her youth and her daughter seemed to have inherited the title. Her golden locks, emerald eyes, and
ivory skin had her catching the eye of many a young knight. Cersei never quite managed to wrap
Rhaegar around her little finger and ended up marrying her cousin Damon and staying at the Rock.
Now her daughter represented the best hope the Lannisters had of becoming tied to the Royal
Family.

It's why all Jae could only wonder why in the world she'd want to dance with him. It made no
sense, beyond assuming it was her way of gaining Aegon's attention.

''Do you mean to compete in the King's Tourney, Your Grace?'' she asked as Jae twirled her around
the dance floor. He sent a silent 'Thank you' to the Septa for forcing him to master all of the
Westerosi dances.

''I do not, my Lady, though I shall regret missing the opportunity to crown you Queen of Love and
Beauty.'' He said, making his flirting plain to see.

Myrcella blushed again but did not steal a glance towards Aegon. Curious. ''You flatter me, Your
Grace.''

''Not at all, my Lady,'' Jae continued in the same vein, ''But you need not worry. I see many knights
here tonight who will happily take advantage of my folly.''
''They did not tell me you have such a way with words, Your Grace,'' she looked up at him from
under her eyelashes, the little minx.

''I don't, not usually,'' he grinned, ''My Lady seems to bring out the best in me.''

She was about to say something when Aegon appeared before them, a stupid grin on his face.
''Brother, you wouldn't mind switching partners with me, would you? Your choice of a dancing
partner for me wasn't the wisest, I'm afraid.''

Behind him, Margaery tried her best not to look humiliated while Myrcella looked quite pleased to
hear it. Into the dragon's nest you go, dear. ''Of course, Your Grace.'' Jae nodded. Margaery went
to leave the dance floor but Jae grabbed her by the hand and pulled her into his arms in one quick
move.

''Care to dance with a lowly Prince, my Lady?'' he said, falling into step with the other dancers.
Margaery nodded jerkily, but he could tell she was shaken. It wasn't Aegon's rejection that had her
on the verge of tears, he knew, it was the public embarrassment. He pulled her closer and
whispered, ''They did not see and they did not hear, my Lady. A foolish little girl runs out of the
room crying, but a wise Lady keeps her cool and waits to take advantage of the King's shame in the
morning, does she not?''

She took a deep breath and nodded, a small smile blossoming on her lips. Thank the Gods, Jae
breathed a sigh of relief. He couldn't have all his plans go to shit because the woman couldn't
handle one insult, no matter how right she would be in acting offended.

What in the Seven Hells is Aegon thinking anyway? Why does he act like his title is little more than
a joke whenever he gets drunk? If Jae didn't know any better, he'd think the King despises his
family and enjoys nothing more than embarrassing the House.

''Thank you, Your Grace,'' she whispered.

''Think nothing of it, my Lady.'' Jae replied, carefully scanning the crowd to see who had seen the
little debacle and who had missed it. At first glance, the only one who looked aware of it were
Lord Tywin and his family, Lady Olenna and the Tyrells and the Royal Family. Everyone with a
strong interest in the four of them. Good, good, we can work with that. He'd been more worried
about the other Ladies of the Court and what their malicious tongues might do if they got their
hands on this type of juicy information.

Margaery turned a new page with surprising speed and asked, ''May I ask, Your Grace, who is it
that you plan on marrying?''

''Can't say I have any plans,'' He replied, wondering what she was getting at.

''I suppose we are all slaves to our duty,'' Margaery lamented, sighing as though she'd seen a tragic
play.

''No need to pretend, my Lady,'' Jae said, the corners of his lips curving upwards, ''You were born
for the Court and its games. I wager to say you consider the nature of the man you marry to be little
more than a minor detail.''

She did not giggle, nor did she look scandalized. Jae had a distinct feeling that the predatory look in
her eyes, the smile that screamed of deceit represented Margaery Tyrells one true face. ''True
enough. Men can be – managed.''

A little arrogance then. ''Can they? Seduced until they're doing as they're told and slink off to the
corner while the little ladies play?'' he asked and she stiffened in his arms, ''You seem to have
forgotten they will always get in your way with their pride and their delusions. Not every husband
does his wife the courtesy of riding off a cliff, you know?''

The song slowly crawled to an end and their dance came to a halt. ''Perhaps, but a Lady still has
so many other options.''

Jae smiled and kissed her hand. ''I wish you good fortune in the battles to come, my Lady.''

The two parted with smiles on their faces and Jae returned to his seat on the dais, sitting down right
next to Arianne. ''Enjoying your night, Princess?''

''Clearly not as much as you, Your Grace.'' She said, but there was no jealousy to be found. She
looked as though the entire notion of being jealous of any other Lady ridiculous and seemed
determined to point it out.

''That's a shame, it is quite a lovely night.'' A servant poured him a measure of wine and he took the
opportunity to wet his mouth a bit.

''Can't tell the difference from the last two,'' Arianne replied, resting her head on her hands, the
picture of boredom.

Something in Jae stirred. ''Well, there is always the prospect of thrilling endings, I suppose.''

Arianne's head snapped in his direction and she did her best to suppress the wicked grin that
threatened to spread across her face. ''What does Your Grace have in mind?''

''Oh, I wouldn't know, I rarely think so far ahead.'' Jae examined his fingernails as though he found
them fascinating.

Arianne laughed lightly, ''You are a devious one, Your Grace.''

''I bet you say that to all the Princes.''

Arianne laughed loudly enough that time around to draw the eyes of a few nobles. She leaned in
closer and whispered, ''Only the ones who won't fuck me.'' Her hand landed on his thigh.

''Sounds like an incentive for further abstinence.''

She pursed her lips but huffed in amusement. Not the answer she was looking for. She looked back
out across the dance floor, her eyes landing on Myrcella dancing with Aegon then seeking out
Margaery who sat with the rest of her family. ''And what do you think about the Golden Beauty
and the Rose of Highgarden?''

''They are remarkable young Ladies,'' Jae answered, believing the diplomatic course to be the
safest.

''Mmm, I must say I agree, but which one will be Queen?'' her eyes jumped between the two of
them as if she couldn't decide.

''You don't consider yourself part of that discussion, Princess?'' he eyed her, wondering how much
she would dare reveal.

''I am not so sure anymore I would even like to be,'' she looked surprised to say it.

''How come?''
She looked at him, a smile full of wistful longing on her face. ''I used to think to become Queen I
only had to marry the man who would be King.'' She looked out at the sea of nobles, the sea she'd
have to part to become a Targaryen. ''It's only now that I am beginning to see the truth.'' She looked
back at him. ''I suppose you would think me terribly silly.''

''Not at all,'' Jae said. He knew the most highborn of the highborn Ladies could grow up thinking
themselves untouchable. Margaery certainly thought that way. They all think they deserve
everything and everyone else should simply accept this undeniable truth. That is how wars start
and untouchable little Ladies get their untouchable little throats slit. He imagined it took a fair
amount of intellect and character for a Princess like Arianne to figure it out before it became too
late. ''I think it quite commendable.''

She gave a faint nod, grateful for his compliment but not in the least heartened by it. ''I suppose I
should pity the two girls. I don't think they quite know what they're in for.''

''Shouldn't be so bad,'' Jae wondered what had her so gloomy all of a sudden.

She nodded but he could tell it was forced. ''If you say so, Your Grace.''

There was a shout from the dance floor before Jae could get another word in and his eyes found
Robb Stark lying on his backside, one of the Redwyne twins standing over him. Jae leaped out of
his seat and over the dais in one quick move but Robb Stark moved faster. He jumped to his feet
and had Redwyne doubled-over and shrieking in agony by the time Jae got there.

Some Reacher knights wanted to rush Robb but Jae jumped between them, Dark Sister sliding out
of its sheath. ''Stop!'' he roared, ''Or I start cutting limbs.'' The knights froze in place. To drive
home the point, Ser Jaime and Ser Arthur appeared beside him, both of their blades drawn.

Having prevented a battle in the middle of the fucking Throne Room, Jae turned back to the affair.
Ned Stark and the rest of the northern delegation were all on their feet but he waved them off.
''What's happened here?''

''I don't know, Your Grace, this... man came out of nowhere and pushed me to the ground.'' Stark
looked perplexed but also furious as hell and hoping he'll get the chance to punch him again.

The Redwyne who looked to have a broken nose (Jae sent Robb an appreciative glance for that),
had a harder time explaining himself. ''Thiz noden dog tinks he can dance wif my sista!''

Jae's eyes found the redhead standing beside Robb, shaking like a leaf on the wind as her eyes
jumped between Jae and Robb. Smarter than her brother, it appears. Paxter Redwyne himself
chose to make an appearance then and said, ''What in the world is going on here?''

''Robb Stark was sharing a dance with your daughter, my Lord.'' Jae said, his tone as dry as the
sands of Dorne, ''Your son decided that to be sufficient reason to attack the Heir to the North.'' He
tilted his head, giving Lord Redwyne a curious look, ''How do you propose we go about this, my
Lord?''

Redwyne's eyes went from Jae to Dark Sister to the Kingsguard knights at his back. He swallowed
to buy himself time to choose the right words. ''You—Your Grace, I sincerely apolo—''

''What's happened here, then?'' Aegon said as he approached the group. Oh, for fuck's sake.

''Lord Redwyne's son has attacked Robb Stark, Your Grace,'' Ser Arthur surmised the situation.

''And why would he do that?'' Aegon staggered a little bit but Ser Arthur caught and steadied him.
''He seems to think the Heir to the North has no business dancing with his sister,'' Jae explained
through gritted teeth.

''Well, quite right, I say,'' Aegon said, raising his cup as if in a toast. The men present exchanged
looks, the Redwynes grasping that the situation turned in their favor. One of the twins even looked
to be grinning. ''Can't have these northern dogs ruining the south's precious flowers. Isn't that so,
Ser Slobber?'' the grin disappeared.

Silence permeated the room. Rhaenys appeared by Aegon's side, murmuring, ''Brother, you can't
mean to—''

''Alright, alright,'' Aegon rolled his eyes as though his chance of amusement was spoilt. ''No harm,
no foul. Everyone get back to dancing and being merry.''

But Jae would not let that happen. He clenched his hands, nearly shaking. He had about enough of
smoothing after the mistakes of others, placating and calming those they so happily offend. The
Starks were his family and he would not let them walk out of the Throne Room disgraced. ''No,'' he
ground out.

Aegon, who was about to leave, turned back and said, ''Excuse me?''

''I said 'No', Your Grace,'' his eyes on Ser Slobber, ''He will apologize to Robb.''

''You dare make demands of a King?'' Aegon asked out loud, looking quite pleased by a new
opportunity for problems.

''I make no demands of you, Your Grace. I am talking to Lord Redwyne and Ser Slobber here.'' He
looked at Lord Redwyne, ''Your son will apologize.''

''And if he doesn't?'' Ser Horror sneered, ''What is it you think you can when the King himself has
put an end to the matter.''

''Indeed he has,'' Jae adopted a polite smile, ''But I am the Crown Prince with power of my own and
I tell you right now; if he does not apologize, I will personally negotiate a trade deal between the
North and the Free Cities, cutting the revenues from food sales by half in the Reach. What will
your liege Lords say to that?'' The Redwyne's blanched, ''There will be no more salt shipments
from the North and all those fine furs that keep you warm in the winter will disappear.'' He pointed
Dark Sister at Ser Slobber's shaking form, ''And then I will carve him up like the pig he is and we
will see if Lord Tyrell considers the death of an imbecile a sufficient reason to start a war.''

They all stared at him in horror until Mace Tyrell shot to his feet and said, ''Paxter!''

After glancing at his liege Lord, Lord Redwyne nodded and gave his son a stern look. ''I—I
apllogize.''

Dark Sister returned to its sheath and all the other blades followed it. ''Wise choice,'' he said, then
turned to the King. He smiled but made sure his eyes screamed of murder. ''I do apologize for my
behavior, Your Grace. I understand it was inexcusable. If you will forgive me, I will retire for the
night and allow you all to – what was it? – ah, yes, get back to dancing and being merry.'' He gave
a quick, short bow and walked out of the Throne Room.

He slowed his pace the moment he stepped out of the Throne Room and ran a hand through his
hair. He fucked up. Everyone else is allowed to do it, why shouldn't I be? He wondered, feeling the
alcohol.
Aegon was a mercurial son of a bitch even with Jae trying his best to keep him appeased. He could
only wonder what he'd do now that he had been challenged. Jae buried his head in his hands. One
moment of anger would cost him countless moments of regret. Why the fuck did I have to say
that? He did not regret standing up for his cousin. Someone had to do it or risk further alienating
the northerners, but...

He couldn't think of anything better he could have done. Nothing. Aegon was the one to blame and
he was the only one they couldn't blame. This whole 'serving an incompetent King' notion is
getting old quickly. I wonder how Tywin did it for twenty years. Must have nerves of steel.

He turned a corner, Ser Jaime, right behind him, when they came upon a curious sight; Lord Varys
and Lord Arryn standing in the middle of the hall, whispering. ''Good evening, my Lords,'' he said.
They both turned to him without flinching. Either they weren't up to anything sinister or they were
too good to show it.

''Your Grace,'' they said in unison and bowed.

''I hope I did not interrupt anything important,'' he said with a strained smile, watching Arryn
closely. It would be naive to expect Varys would give anything away.

But Arryn did not look even remotely perturbed to be found talking with the Master of Whisperers.
''Not at all,'' he said.

''Lord Arryn and I were only discussing some issues regarding the Vale,'' Varys added in, this
perfumed egg prancing around pretending to be a human.

''Far be it for me to get in the way of the Vale's governance, my Lords.'' He meant to move on, but
Arryn chuckled.

''It is quite finished. If you don't mind, Your Grace, I will return to the feast.'' With a bow, Arryn
left.

Jae watched him go, then nodded to the Spider and said, ''Lord Varys,'' but the man wasn't done
with him.

He fell into step with Jae and said, ''Your Grace wouldn't mind sharing a word with me, would
you?''

''Not at all, Lord Varys. Indeed, I believe we do not speak often enough.'' Jae said, trying very hard
not to show that the Spider's presence made his skin crawl. If ever there was a man I feared.

''You hardly ever need my assistance, Your Grace, and no one pays poor spiders social visits,'' he
tittered.

''My heart bleeds for you,'' Jae deadpanned, then stopped and turned to the man. ''Though I wonder
if this conversation implies I am in need of your assistance now.'' He raised an eyebrow, daring
Varys to lie to him. If Jae had a blind-spot, Varys would know.

''Oh, not at all, Your Grace, not what I meant to imply. I merely wanted to express my admiration
on how you've handled the King's coronation.'' He said and bowed.

Jae snorted at that. ''Your praise might be premature.''

''How so?''
Even the Spider needed some time before his birds began singing in his ear. Something to
remember. ''Does not matter. Is there anything else?''

''Yes, Your Grace,'' they resumed their walk, ''I hoped to point out that Lord Darry might give you
some trouble tomorrow during the Council. He has designs on being named the Lord Paramount of
the Riverlands.''

''I expect he does,'' Jae agreed, ''But I doubt His Grace the King wishes to begin his reign by
igniting a war in the Riverlands.''

''Even if Lord Darry should be in possession of information that might paint Lord Tully in a rather
treasonous light, Your Grace?'' he asked, his polite smile and smooth tone belying the gleefulness
of knowing something Jae didn't.

''What exactly would that be?'' Jae stopped in his tracks, cursing the paint of the walls in his head.

''Your Grace remembers those bandits in the Riverlands who'd been attacking the Crowns taxmen,
correct?'' Jae nodded, a knot twisting in his gut, ''It would appear Lord Tully took an unprecedented
approach to dealing with Connington's exorbitant taxes.''

''And you've learned this...''

''Only this morning, Your Grace. One of my little birds overheard Darry has ten of Tully's men and
means to have them testify before the Council.''

Jae did not believe him for one second but what could he do about it?

''Of course, it's in Lord Darry's own dirty laundry that one might find a solution to our little
conundrum.'' Jae felt like a fish who had bait dangled before its nose.

He did not deign to ask out loud, only gave Varys an impatient look.

''Some of Conington's edicts harmed Lord Darry as well and he had no qualms about avoiding them
by any means necessary.'' Varys giggled as though he found it terribly amusing. It is, in a way. ''I
trust if I were to provide you with this information, Your Grace could persuade Lord Darry that it
would be in his best interest to keep silent?''
 Chapter 16
Chapter Summary

I posted two chapters today, so if you're used to immediately jumping to the last
chapter, you might've skipped a step.
G'day!

''Get up, Jaehaerys, it's time to make your brother King,'' Arianne's voice woke him up.

Jae groaned and rolled over just in time to catch a delicious glimpse of her flesh before she pulled
on her dress. ''Already?''

''Mhmm, you made me late enough as it is.'' Judging by her smirk she did not regret it one bit.

''You're the one who showed up in my chambers last night,'' he defended without putting much
thought into it.

''You're the one who attacked me like a hungry dog,'' she shot back, threw her hair back and walked
out of his chambers, winking back at him on her way out.

Jae huffed in amusement. She told the truth, he supposed. Drunk on wine and high on beating Lord
Darry into submission, he'd learned a naked Princess sitting at the edge of his bet an irresistible
temptation.

He slid out of bed, his mouth parched, he walked over to the table and poured himself a cup of cool
water. Two more followed before he felt a bit better. His maid, who'd apparently been waiting for
Arianne to leave, stepped into his bedroom with a bucket of hot water, a half dozen of her assistants
behind her.

None of them even blinked to find the Crown Prince standing naked before them and quickly went
about filling his bathtub to the brim. He slid into it with a sigh, the steaming hot water embracing
his body. He loved it. He brushed his entire body, not wanting the maid to do it and washed his
hair. He would've liked to stay in the bath until the water turned cold, but by the way, the maid
tapped her foot on the ground by the door, he knew he was late enough as it was.

He stepped out of the bath and dried himself off with a towel the maid gave him and returned to his
bedroom where his clothes for the day were already waiting.

They were made by the finest seamstress in all of King's Landing for the special occasion. His
doublet was black with two silver dragons on each side of his chest. Silver clasps served instead of
buttons and silver linings further drove home the point of the Ice Dragon. Aegon's drunk jape had
caught on and Jae saw no reason not to take advantage.

The maid helped him dress and put his hair in order, allowing Jae's thoughts to drift away to the
previous night. Thinking about his confrontation with Aegon during the feast made him cringe but
he held onto hope that all could be smoothed out. What came after he felt much better about.

Lord Darry had folded like a house of cards when Jae confronted him about his plans and the
misdeeds that would prevent him from executing them. Thank Gods it was so easy, I was quite
drunk.

The source of his information bothered Jae more; Lord Varys. He hated the man and his enigmatic
ways. He could admit himself scared of the man. He knew Varys wasn't the most loyal of men and
for all his professed devotion to the people of Westeros, his actions didn't match up. Or he'd never
have told the Mad King about Rhaegar's plans for the Tourney of Harrenhall.

The knowledge itself did him no good, of course. Being aware of Lord Varys' deceitful nature and
doing something about it are two vastly different notions. He knew better than most the power of
the secret passageways of the Red Keep. If one can listen to conversations, he can interrupt them
as well. Bread and Cheese came to mind. Say one word about harming Varys and those little birds
might swarm you.

But this time he had saved Jae's butt. What will be the price, I wonder? No doubt Varys would
come to collect in due time.

All of it didn't matter, he thought with no small amount of giddiness. His plans were coming
together. A symphony where not one instrument would play out of tune, he would be the conductor
during the Council to lead Westeros exactly where he wanted it to go.

He'd been going from one meeting to another without pause since the arrival of the Lords,
charming the loyalists and placating the rebels into doing his bidding. By the end of the day, Lord
Rosby would be Hand of the King and Stannis Baratheon would be Master of Laws. Lords
Velaryon and Tarly would retain their positions as Masters of Ships and War, respectively. Tyrion
Lannister would be named Master of Coin to serve as a bitter consolation prize for Lord Tywin and
a delightful present for Ser Jaime, while Varys would remain Master of Whisperers.

He had put a lot of thought into the positions and who should take them. He felt it the best
combination of men and though he would have liked more former rebels on the Small Council, he
wasn't deluded enough to think he could pull it off.

Stannis Baratheon will have to be enough for now. All his allies, the begrudging as well as the
willing, knew exactly when to speak up. He couldn't have only former rebels championing any
proposal; no, he needed unilateral support. Any proposal championed by the former rebels had to
be seconded by one of the loyalists just when it seemed their proposal could be shot down on
account of it being championed by rebels only.

He smiled contentedly in the looking glass as the maid finished her work. He looked quite well, he
wasn't ashamed to admit, and it was only right that he should look like a proper Prince on the day
of his greatest triumph.

He thanked the maid for her help and walked out of his chambers, Ser Jaime falling into step
behind him as they made their way to the courtyard of the Red Keep where the Royal Procession
would begin its journey to the Sept of Baelor.

Several large carriages were arrayed around the courtyard to transport the Ladies of the Court – he
spotted Arianne getting into one of them – while the Lords and the knights would ride ahead of
them. Nearly two hundred Goldcloaks were ordered to offer an escort to the party to ensure the
commoners lining the streets wouldn't be an issue.

''Big day, huh?'' Ser Jaime said by his side.

Jae nodded. ''Should be interesting.''

They mounted up and joined the procession, riding right behind Aegon as they began the slow trek
to the Sept. People along the streets threw flowers in their path (Jae had them distributed for that
very reason) and cheered as Aegon rode by, his back ramrod straight, looking for all the world as a
perfect King. Jae had to fight hard not to snort at the thought. If he read him correctly, Aegon was
hungover as hell.

I wonder how many Kings have been hungover for the coronation. More than he would like, no
doubt, but it did not make him feel any better about Aegon either. After today, we'll have to come to
some sort of agreement. But that would be after they'd crossed the treacherous ground that laid
ahead.

When they arrived at the Sept, the King stopped on its stairs and there he would wait and say a
prayer to the Seven while the rest of the nobles entered the Sept and prepared for his arrival. Jae
dismounted and made his way inside. He would sit in the front row, next to Queen Elia.

The Lords and the Ladies followed him inside in orderly fashion, while Jae went over his plans for
the final time. His thoughts were interrupted by the blaring of the trumpets, followed by the
opening of the doors of the Sept. All rose to their feet. Aegon stepped through, dressed as befitted a
King, wearing a black doublet with golden linings, a red dragon on his chest. A gold medallion
hung around his neck with seven pieces, representing the Seven Kingdoms. A red cloak hung from
his shoulders, trailing after him as he slowly made his way to the altar, the eyes of Westeros on
him. My better version, Jae thought, pleased. His thoughts on the man were irrelevant as long as he
looked right to the people and the nobles.

He made his way to the altar and those hungry eyes watched him as he was divested of his cloak,
followed by the doublet and his tunic. Bare-chested, he knelt before the High Septon who began
the long and dull sermon, anointing Aegon with the seven oils. When, after a grueling hour, his
sermon came to an end, the High Septon's disciples clothed Aegon and helped him back to his feet.

He turned to the crowd of nobles as the High Septon placed the crown Jae had procured upon his
silver curls. ''All hail King Aegon Targaryen, Sixth of His Name, King of the Andals, the Rhoynar
and the First Men. Lord of the Seven Kingdoms and Protector of the Realm. Long may he reign!''

''Long may he reign!'' the crowd answered as one. Let's hope so.

Aegon descended down the stairs and retraced his steps back out of the Sept, the Lord and Ladies
following after him. A massive crowd had gathered outside the Sept to hear the King give a
speech. The Lords of Westeros arrayed behind him, Jae and the rest of the Royal Family in the
front, Aegon stepped forth and gave a passionate speech about the future, of peace and prosperity
and a realm that will last a thousand years.

Jae himself felt moved by the speech, a sentiment shared by the commoners but not the nobles.
None of them blinked an eye at his words. I wonder what kinds of speeches the Mad King gave. It
would explain why they all knew better than to believe a few flowery words.

The Royal procession returned to the Red Keep shortly afterward. A small feast would be held
before the Council of Lords would commence. Jae got goosebumps thinking about it and grew
more anxious for it to begin by the moment. He would be alright once it started but anticipation
meant to torture him until then. He had too much time to think and fret over every little thing he
said, time to wonder if he'd missed anything. Lord Varys' last-minute warning did not help matters
in that regard.

Upon their arrival to the Red Keep, they all made their way to the gardens where the feast would
be held. Jae sleepwalked through the entire affair.
The unfair trade deals and extortionate taxes were gone. The only thing he could be absolutely
certain of. They hurt the rebels and loyalists alike and so no one would accept anything less. The
feelings of disenfranchisement by the rebels and resentment by the loyalists were another matter.
Aegon had to be seen keeping the rebels on the leash but it was imperative that the rebels
don't feel as though they're on a leash.

Love came in handy in that regard. Lady Ysilla Royce had long been in love with the eldest son of
Lord Gyles Rosby, the soon-to-be Hand of the King. A good way to ensure the loyalty of the Vale
if ever there was one; Lord Royce would never march against the King if it meant risking his
daughter's life. A lovely little nuisance for Lord Arryn, as Arianne put it.

Lord Edmure Tully was the other problem solved through marriage. Jaehaerys meant to have him
marry Jeyne Darry, thus linking another rebel House to a family whose loyalty to the Crown could
not be questioned and sating Lord Darry's desire to see Riverrun burnt to the ground. He'd
negotiated the deal the previous night since Lord Darry saw no issue with being executed for his
crimes if it meant the Tully's would be right behind him on the path to hell.

He himself would play the part of the hostage, ensuring the North's loyalty and Stannis Baratheon
serving as Master of Laws in the capital would secure the Stormlands. A pretty ribbon to tie all of
Westeros together and allow everyone to feel comfortable enough to give the former rebels some
breathing room and give Jae the chance to negotiate deals that will make them all rich. It will take
time, but if we pull it off we should be on the right path.

He knew in his heart he was right. He'd studied his history extensively since he saw no point in
repeating the mistakes of his ancestors. One undeniable fact formed in his mind; keep the righteous
men satisfied. When an honorable, just man calls his banners against you, that is the time to piss
your breeches.

Those myths of chivalry, honor, and nobility were useful things. Religion kept the commoners in
line and those myths did the same for the nobles. They made them forget that savagery,
manipulation and murder bought them their titles, not fancy armor and a condescending attitude.
Those nobles were the ones who would go to war if they believed the reason to be just.

Sharks like Tywin Lannister would manufacture that reason and it is their kind one had to worry
about. The men who remember their origins and know the only difference between a commoner
and a nobleman is that nobles apply a lot more finesse to murder.

They're the men who would block Stannis Baratheon's appointment as Master of Ships, the ones
who would sabotage Edmure Tully's marriage and instead provide Lord Darry with another
incentive for war. There aren't many of them – thank the Gods – but then you only need one to
render all plans useless.

They were the ones Jae looked for as his eyes roamed the crowd below the dais, searching for a
snake in the grass. After the meal was finished, Jae thought to go and talk to some of them,
stopping by the table by the Starks first.

''Enjoyed your meal, my Lords?'' he asked as he approached. Other than Lord Stark and his heir,
Lords Manderly, Dustin, Karstark, and Ryswell followed their liege Lord to the capital. They all
bowed their heads at Jae's approach.

''It was good,'' Lord Stark applied his vast vocabulary, his tone terse. He knew what he had to do
after the feast and did not like it one bit. The rest of them nodded in agreement.

''I wanted to thank you, Your Grace,'' Robb Stark spoke up, ''For your assistance yesterday.''
Jae smiled. ''It was nothing, cousin. What else is family for?''

Robb nodded with a smile of his own. ''Would you like to join us, Your Grace?''

The rest of them looked eager and Jae hated to let them down. ''I thank you, but unfortunately, I
have much to do. Perhaps at the evening's feast?'' They looked a bit mollified by that, though not
by much. I haven't taken enough time to get to know them, Jae thought.

But he moved past their table all the same. The meal having come to a close, the nobles were
moving around freely, enjoying the many entertainers that were arrayed around the gardens, from
jugglers and jesters to exotic dancers.

He came across Lady Olenna on the way as she watched a Summer Island woman dance with a
bored look in her eyes. ''Last night was interesting,'' she said, clearly reminding him that his ability
to make Margaery Queen represented the lynchpin of their arrangement.

He could come up with a thousand excuses and still, it wouldn't make things better. So he did the
petty thing. ''Your granddaughter's ability to charm men seems to have been a bit overestimated,
my Lady.''

She huffed in amusement, entirely aware of what he was doing and apparently entertained by it. ''In
case of the King, I cannot entirely dispute that.'' Because she too could make a thousand excuses
and it wouldn't make a bit of difference.

''We both know what's really going to happen, do we not?'' He asked as a servant presented a cup of
wine for him.

She nodded, her lips pursed in a tight line. ''The King will marry for political reasons, but it will not
be a happy marriage, nor will his wife have much say in the affairs of the state.''

''The first is true, but the latter remains to be seen. Your granddaughter might still earn His Grace's
trust even if she will never earn his love.''

''Sounds like most successful marriages I know of.'' Olenna conceded. ''But it's Lord Tywin I'm
more worried about. He knows you've got everyone whispering of Margaery in the King's ear and
he hasn't done anything to stop it.''

''Stopping it would require drastic measures.'' Jae pointed out, feeling a bit smug about it.

''You believe Lord Tywin is above drastic measures?''

''Only when he's holding all the cards. He does not, at the moment.''

''You're doing well so far, I'll grant you that, but in all my years I've never seen a plan run so
smoothly.'' She said, looking at a young Lady that passed them with disdainful eyes.

''Perhaps after all the years of strife, the Gods have offered us a chance at peace.'' Jae offered with a
smile.

Olenna gave him a derisive look. ''You don't believe that. You think you're the one who's
engineered it all so perfectly.'' She huffed, ''I pity you, in a way.''

She wasn't wrong. Jae did believe he played his hand correctly. Ser Daemon told Aegon exactly
what Jae wanted him to and Rhaenys took care of the Martells. They were all on the same page and
Aegon had yet to go rogue when sober. The chances of it all going well were excellent.
''I cannot deal with problems I can't see, my Lady.'' He said, tone clipped.

''Indeed not, but can you deal with problems once they appear, Your Grace?'' she left the question
hang. ''Think on that while I go make sure my son doesn't make a complete fool out of himself.''

Jae nodded and watched her go. He meant to go talk to Stannis when none other than the King
approached him. ''Brother,'' he said with a charming smile.

''Your Grace,'' Jae bowed. They hadn't had the chance to talk since the ceremony and Jae didn't
know what to expect. ''I must say you gave an excellent speech after the ceremony.''

''And I meant every word of it,'' he gave him a meaningful look. He gestured for Jae to walk with
him. ''I wanted to apologize... again. I'm afraid alcohol and I do not go well together.''

''I do believe that's true for most of us, Your Grace,'' Jae said, pleased by the apology but worried if
it would become a regular occurrence.

Aegon gave him a feeble smile. ''I want you to know, Jaehaerys, I will do all in my power to do as
you asked during the Council. I see the wisdom of your advice.''

But Jae hadn't given him any direct advice, which could only mean... ''Yes, yes,'' Aegon chuckled,
''I'm aware Ser Daemon and the rest of my family are acting according to your wishes.''

Jae's lips quirked into a sheepish smile. ''What gave it away?''

''Men rarely agree on everything, I suppose,'' Aegon laughed, clapping him on the back, ''Besides,
I've never heard Oberyn talk such sense before.''

And there he showed a glimpse of a great King. A man who could see through the masks of those
around him and unearth their true motivations, see who really pulled their strings. It is the single
most important quality a King can have, as rare as prolonged periods of peace in the history of
Westeros. And yet... and yet. If he's smart enough for it, why all the dumb mistakes?

Jae made himself chuckle at his words, couldn't deny Oberyn's tendency for impulsiveness.

''I do have one question, though...'' Aegon began as he stopped and turned to Jae, ''You truly believe
Lady Margaery to be the best match available to me?''

Jae ran a hand through his hair. Even he did know not the answer to that. Margaery had the
makings of a great Queen, understood the nuances of Court and how to manipulate people to her
advantage but that was just the question! Would she act in the interest of the Crown or in the
interest of her? Margaery Tyrell, should she become Queen, would have to be taught that she is
a Targaryen and is duty-bound to protect the interests of every Kingdom, not just the Reach. And
that would take time.

''I do, Your Grace, though I will not deny Her Ladyship will have to learn a thing or two before she
can be trusted to become a true member of the family,'' Jae told him, as close to honesty as he
would allow himself to be.

Aegon nodded, clearly having considered the same. ''I suppose that's the best we can hope for.''

''In the current climate, I would agree, Your Grace.''

''Then I shall heed your advice. After all, I do believe there's a reason why your diplomatic skill is
held in such high regard by all of Westeros.'' Aegon paid him a compliment for compliment's sake.
A clumsy attempt at a closer bond.

''Your Grace flatters me,'' Jae bowed his head because Jae knew his place.

Aegon snorted, apparently amused by Jae's humility. ''I may not know much, but I know that if
Rhae—our Father was here today, he would be all too proud to see what kind of a man you've
become.''

Jae would've considered it a condescending comment coming from a man two years older than him
if Aegon did not sound so wistful. He did not mean to compliment Jae, he was inadvertently
expressing his desire for people to say the same about him.

''He'd feel the same about you, Your Grace.'' Jae tried his best not to sound as if he pitied Aegon.

''I think I rather mucked it up, to be honest.''

''You are seven-and-ten, Your Grace. After you've reigned for fifty years over a peaceful realm, no
one will remember a few choice words said at a feast.''

''You truly believe that, don't you?'' Aegon asked, looking at Jae as though he found him to be the
most fascinating creature he'd ever seen.

''I do, Your Grace.''

''Well, how I deserved a brother like you, I'll never know.'' He chuckled, shaking his head before
he walked away without another word.

Jae didn't know what to think of that – becoming a tradition, isn't it? – but he prayed to the Old
Gods and the New Aegon would keep that attitude for the rest of the Council.

He moved around the garden, talking to Lords and Ladies left and right until it was time for the
Lords of Westeros to convene in the Throne Room.

Jae made it there first, standing to the right of the Iron Throne, Prince Oberyn sitting to the left.
The Council was reserved for the Lords of Westeros and their sworn representative. Nearly a
hundred of those who'd chosen to attend or send their men filled into the Throne Room. A hundred
men who would decide the fate of millions.

They all took their seats, the Great Lords sitting in the front row, the Major Lord sitting in the rows
behind them and the Minor Lords foolish enough to think they'd have any say in the matters sitting
behind them.

When they were seated, Aegon stood from his seat atop the Iron Throne and said, ''Seeing as we
are all present, I declare this Council of Lords has begun.''

Lord Royce shot to his feet. ''My apologies, Your Grace, but Lord Arryn is not present. He should
be here at any moment.''

As if on cue, the door opened one final time and Lord Arryn walked in. But he wasn't alone. A
woman trailed after him. She had her eyes on the floor and her hair prevented Jaehaerys from
ascertaining her identity.

Arryn made his way to the front of the Throne Room and stopped before the stairs that lead to the
Iron Throne. Jae watched him with a frown. Something's wrong. Any man approaching the Iron
Throne has to bow. Arryn stared up at Aegon, eyes defiant.
Aegon could sense it too. ''Glad you could join us, Lord Arryn, and I see you've brought... a
guest?'' he asked.

''Not a guest, but a witness.'' Arryn barked and a ripple of whispers spread among the Lords. Lord
Stark got to his feet next and moved to stand beside Arryn. Jae felt a shiver run down his spine.
Arryn turned his back to Aegon and addressed the Lords present. ''My Lords!'' he called. ''We have
been deceived.'' He turned and pointed an accusing finger at Aegon. ''This man sitting upon the
Iron Throne is no King at all! No son of Rhaegar Targaryen! He is a pretender!''

A preternatural hush fell upon the room, all of them staring with bated breath, wondering if Arryn
and Stark had gone mad, exchanging dumb-struck looks.

Arryn knew he had but moments to explain himself before chaos erupted and quickly continued,
''The real Aegon Targaryen died on the voyage to Dorne and the Martells in their bid to retain their
ties to the Crown found a child with all the Valyrian features and passed him off as the son of
Rhaegar Targaryen!''

Jae's eyes instinctually snapped to Aegon who sat on the Iron Throne, stiff as a plank but showing
no emotion. Prince Oberyn stepped forth, a look of rage on his face. ''What evidence do you have
to prove these treasonous accusations?!''

''The only treason is yours, Prince Oberyn!'' Eddard called, ''Your plot to deny Prince Jaehaerys his
rightful crown.'' What in the world are you doing, you bloody fools?!

''And she is our proof!'' Arryn continued. The girl looked up, tears staining her cheeks. Lord
Velaryon shot to his feet after one look at the girl.

''Daenys?!'' he cried in shock.

''Indeed, my Lord!'' Lord Arryn confirmed, nodding. ''Prince Aegon's wetnurse. The woman who'd
seen Prince Aegon die,'' he turned his enraged gaze upon Oberyn, ''And the woman you wanted to
kill to keep the truth hidden!''

''Woman, is this true?'' Lord Mace Tyrell, in a show of stupidity typical of him, asked.

She could only nod. The Throne Room erupted in chaos, the Lords yelling over each other. Some
accused the Martells of treason, some accused Arryn of concocting a false tale to make Jaehaerys
king.

Jae did not watch most of them. Jae watched the sharks. Oberyn, Tywin, Darry. He could not find
Varys.

Oberyn looked enraged but a hint of panic lurked beneath his anger, that much he could tell. Darry
looked flabbergasted and more than a little gleeful about Arryn's folly. Tywin looked mighty
pleased and so Jae's eyes stayed on him.

''Enough!'' Eddard called, bring an end to the pandemonium. ''The evidence is undeniable and we
call upon all of you to ensure this pretender does not presume to govern us any longer. To do your
duty as Lords of the Realm.''

The men present exchanged looks. Jae could tell they were wondering who would stand up first yet
none had the guts to do so. Jae did not know if he should stop them or encourage them. Stopping
them meant sentencing his Uncle to death. Encouraging them meant becoming a traitor. Both
options meant he'd start a fucking war.
He did not get the chance to make a decision for it was then that Tywin Lannister stood up. The
doors of the Throne Room burst open and men in red cloaks filed in, surrounding the
room. Lannister men, every one.

The Lords, unarmed as they were, shut up and watched the men-at-arms take control of the room.

''Your Grace!'' Lord Tywin called as he moved to stand before the Iron Throne. ''Through a
fortunate turn of events, I was able to discover the sinister plot against you and take measures to
ensure it would not be successful. These are my men and they have secured the Red Keep against
all threats.''

Judging by the blood on their armor, Jae assumed that meant slaughtering every single one of the
Goldcloaks. He did not worry about Daenerys and Rhaenys or even Robb. Lord Tywin wouldn't
dare.

He felt dizzy, the room spun around him. He took a deep breath and focused. Can you deal with
problems once they appear? Lady Olenna's words echoed in his ears. Who in the Seven Hells could
have predicted this? And how in the world was I kept blind to it?

''These men have to be secured to ensure they do not spread any false tales until the truth of Lord
Arryn's and Lord Stark's treason is ascertained, Your Grace.'' The Throne Room rose in protest at
the thought of being held hostage, but the Lannister men lowered their spears and suddenly
becoming hostages became quite acceptable.

''Yes—Yes, Lord Tywin, you are—you are quite correct.'' Aegon stuttered out. Tywin gave a nod
to his men and six of them moved forth to grab Lords Stark and Arryn.

They knew they were beaten. They knew it from the moment the Lannisters burst into the Throne
Room. Jae stepped forth and yelled, ''Who told you this? Who gave you this information? Who
found the woman?''

The Lannister men stopped in their mission to drag the two of them out of the Throne Room.
''Varys.'' Arryn replied, ''Lord Varys informed us of it and found the woman. He's the one who
saved her from the Martell's.''

He glanced at Oberyn to see him pale. He looked at Lord Tywin and said, ''How did you discover
this plot?!''

Tywin, who looked perplexed by Arryn's words, turned to Jae, his lips pursed tightly.

''I am your Crown Prince and I order you to answer me at once!'' Jae thundered. Yes, you've seized
the capital but do you dare say it out loud, Lion?

''Lord Varys,'' he replied as though it pained him.

Gods, we are truly fucked. He turned to Aegon and said, ''Your Grace, they have been deceived,
every last one of them. Varys is behind this and I assure you that if he means to divide us so, it is
with good reason.''

''Do not believe a word he says, Your Grace.'' Lord Darry shot to his feet. ''Only yesterday Prince
Jaehaerys meant to prevent me from revealing the treachery of House Tully by extorting me! He is
a traitor himself!''

Jae turned to the vengeful Lord. ''And save you from your own treachery, you mean?''
Lord Darry's smile was all malice and vengeance. ''Oh, but I've never committed any treasons
during Connington's Regency. I simply did not deny your accusation because I was so interested in
what you had to say about the actions of the Tully's.''

Jae felt as though he'd been gut-punched. He'd been out-maneuvered to the fullest! He did not
allow himself to look panicked in front of all the Lords. He looked up at Aegon with a straight
face, awaiting his judgment.

''Take Lord Stark and Lord Arryn to the Black Cells where they are to await my judgment.'' He
said, then turned his eyes upon Jaehaerys. ''Prince Jaehaerys is to be confined to his chambers until
the truth of these matters is revealed to us.''

And so two Lannister men stepped up to him, Ser Jaime or Ser Arthur nowhere to be found.

Lord Tywin Lannister owned the Capital and everyone in it.

 Chapter 17

He had cried and raged for a day. Just one day. He collapsed into the corner of his wrecked
chambers in the end, his face buried in his hands, cursing the world. For years he'd been working
towards peace and they stole it from him in the span of an hour. All of his work – gone. They
robbed him of his dreams, turned his purpose to ash.

There wasn't much to discuss anymore. There would be a war and Jae could do nothing to stop
it. Lord Varys has played us all for fools

He convinced Lord Stark and Lord Arryn of the truth of Aegon's birth – whether or not he lied,
even Jae did not know for certain – but it was enough for the two Lords. When Jae saw Lannister
men burst into the Throne Room with blood on their blades, he thought it belonged to the
Goldcloaks. Some of it did, but most of it was the blood of northerners and valemen.

Stark and Arryn had correctly believed that if they took control of the Red Keep with the men they
brought with them to the capital and convinced the rest of the Lords of the truth of their claim, it
would be enough to secure King's Landing. The thousands of men-at-arms from all over the
kingdoms would have been enough to make Aegon's reign the shortest one yet.

And that's where Varys entered the picture again. He and Lord Tywin must have been planning for
months because the Old Lion smuggled almost five hundred men into the city, dressed as civilians.
When the slaughter began, they joined the Lannister men-at-arms and swarmed the Red Keep.

Lord Stark and Lord Arryn did not know what they were walking into, did not understand that a
just cause and a willingness to conspire are far from enough to succeed in the capital. At least
Uncle Ned proved he isn't a complete idiot. Robb Stark had escaped the capital on a ship right
before the start of the Council. By the time Lannisters realized it, it had been far too late to catch
him. Should be arriving at White Harbor any time now.

And then the ball would start to roll. No more talk of peace, no more attempts to prevent the
inevitable. Robb would invade in a righteous bid to free his father. When the people of the Vale
learned about the accusations of treachery leveled against Jon Arryn, they were likely to throw a fit
and slaughter half the Crownlands. He did not even want to think about the brawl brewing in the
Riverlands thanks to his catastrophic mistake while Lady Olenna might go into full murder-mode
now that her granddaughter wouldn't be Queen.

No one could be sure what to think of Stannis Baratheon. He claimed to have nothing to do with
the plot and all the evidence supported that claim. Arryn and Stark did not involve him in their plot
because they knew of his utter loyalty to the Crown, he said. Jae rather thought they wanted one
traitor left standing if all went wrong and did not think they'd need his help. Boy were they wrong.

Lord Tywin must have thought the same because Lord Stannis had been named to the Small
Council to serve as Master of Laws and a hostage-in-all-but-name. Who knew how the Stormlands
would respond.

The only kingdoms not thrown into chaos and disarray were the Westerlands and Dorne. Martells
and Lannisters became the best of friends overnight, only furthering Jae's suspicions about Aegon's
legitimacy; why else would the Martells submit so easily?

Serves them right. They could have married Jae to Rhaenys and retained their ties to the Crown.
But Jae may or may not have heeded their advice which can be rather annoying when one is
looking for a puppet. They wanted binding ties to the Crown that could not be disrupted or
interfered with. The idiots!

The ambition and treachery of the Martells would cost thousands of people their lives. All because
they wanted a King they could control in exchange for the thousands they lost at the Trident. And
because I missed it. Missed the warning signs, too caught up in his own brilliance and belief that
the Council would proceed without a glitch. I thought I would usher in a new era. Never truly
questioned it for a moment.

He thought about going on a killing spree. The first night, he came within a hairsbreadth of
sneaking through the secret passageways and paying the key players their last visit. Aegon, Tywin,
Oberyn, Kevan. The Red Keep would wake up to find Jae had become King and all had to kneel
and kiss the ring. But that wouldn't work. It would turn Dorne and the Westerlands into an enemy
and in a world teeming with people wanting to kill him, Jae felt it wiser not to pile on. He did not
know how the Lords of the Crownlands would react to him becoming King. Maybe they'd support
me, or maybe they'd kill me and crown Viserys.

He could not take that risk, because he knew what would happen next; chaos the likes of which the
Seven Kingdoms haven't seen since the Dance of the Dragons. Varys' plot would culminate in
something deadly. Robb would do Gods know what. Balon Greyjoy has been stirring since his
father died some three years past. He'll be looking to take advantage.

No, Jae needed Tywin Lannister and his ruthless reputation. Let him be the face of the Crown for
now. Let my enemies hesitate in facing him and buy me time to act. Killing Tywin and unleashing
chaos on the capital would only embolden them.

He had more pressing matters anyway. Surviving the accusations leveled against him by Lord
Darry would be a task in and of itself since he had no idea what they wanted to do with him. Get
rid of me, most likely. Now that Aegon's betrothal to Myrcella had been announced, the Crown
would soon have little need of a rogue Crown Prince and with Eddard Stark in the Black Cells, they
no longer needed him to keep the North in check.

So Jae sat in his room and he plotted, playing Cyvasse against himself, considering every move
and counter-move until he got the result he wanted. Because Jae would not give up. He had failed,
yes, but he would not admit to being a failure. He would not let life's ups-and-downs break him.

He had come so close, he could almost taste success only for it to be wrenched from his grasp.
Now he saw it in the distance, a long way of with fields of corpses and rivers of blood between him
and his goal. Giving up is not an option. Jae meant to wade right into the chaos if it meant he'd get
a chance to build a world he wanted.

On the fourth day, Rhaenys came to visit. The look on her face did not bode well for Jae. ''How are
you doing?'' she asked as she stepped into his chambers, wearing a black dress as though in
mourning. At least the maids had cleaned up the mess he'd made the first day.

Jae sat back in his chair behind the table, examining her. She looked tired and shaken and more
than a little guilty. Is it because you know the rightful King of the Seven Kingdoms is being held
prisoner, dear sister? ''I'm fine,'' he lied. From this day on, Jae had no family, had no
friends. Pawns to use and enemies to kill; a simple world order. ''And you? I hope the latest
developments haven't taken too much of a toll.''

She gave him a tired smile as she sat down. ''Dealing with traitors can be a tiring affair, yes.''

Jae hummed. ''And what is to become of Stark and Arryn?''

''They'll be held prisoner for now. At least until Robb Stark bends the knee and the Vale swears
fealty.'' She said, eyes searching for a reaction.

''I see,'' Jae nodded, ''And does my cousin mean to bend the knee?''

She huffed in exasperation. ''You met him, what do you think?''

''He's called the banners.'' Yes, the spirited young man he'd met in the capital wouldn't hesitate to
declare war if he thought the cause to be just.

She nodded, massaging her temples. Jae hid a smile. ''If you were to speak to him, Jaehaerys, you
could—''

''Convince him his father wasn't being held hostage?'' Jae asked.

''His father's a traitor!'' Rhaenys hissed but Jae sensed the false bravado of a terrified woman who
knows that she can survive only by acting brave.

Jae shrugged, indifferent to her righteous anger. ''I'm sure he sees it that way.''

''So you won't try to help?''

''Of course, I'll try to help, haven't I proven that already? I'm simply expressing my doubts about
the effect of my help.'' He told her with an intentionally false smile. Let them know I'm coming.

''I don't know how this could have happened!'' she said, shaking her head in disbelief. ''How could
they have believed Varys' lies?''

''Questions about Aegon have lingered for a long time. Your family has done nothing to dispell
them. You can't be surprised someone decided to take advantage.''

''You mean why Aegon took so long to come to the capital?'' she said, chewing on her lip.

Jae nodded, silently telling her she better answer the question.

''He was sick, Jaehaerys, it took him a long time to recover fully. We didn't want anyone to see him
like that.'' Such a primitive lie, Jae couldn't help but wonder if they were too lazy to think of a
better one. He didn't know why they sent Rhaenys of all people to talk to him because she wasn't
having the desired effect.

Why didn't you just say so, then? He barely stopped himself from asking. It served no purpose,
better that they dance their little shadow dance and wonder about what lies within one another's
hearts. So he said, ''What else has happened?''

''Lord Tywin has held a hearing—''

''Lord Tywin? Not Aegon?'' He cocked an eyebrow at her slip up. Either she's doing this
intentionally or she's scared out of her wits.

''Aegon, yes, he held a hearing to question Lady Daenys. She claimed Lord Varys had kidnapped
her when she was dismissed from Aegon's service fifteen years ago and held her hostage the entire
time. She said Varys threatened to murder her entire family if she didn't testify that Aegon died on
the voyage to Dorne.''

More likely it was Lord Tywin who did the threatening. ''I see. I trust the Lords have been
pacified?''
She nodded. ''Yes,'' She said but did not sound as though she believed it. Likely wonders if they're
only trying to get out of the capital alive before they make their feelings known. ''But it's you who
should be careful.''

Ah, now we're getting to the good part. ''Why's that?''

''Lord Tywin wants to have you executed. Aegon says you should be sent to the Wall.'' She said, on
the verge of tears.

''I bet Lord Tywin loves that idea.'' Might as well hand me over to Robb Stark. Lord Tywin
remembers Bittersteel.

''He will have to bow to the will of the King,'' Rhaenys said as if she hadn't already made it
perfectly clear that they all bowed to Tywin.

''Of course,'' Jae bowed his head in apology. Lord Tywin will agree with the King and then make
sure I don't have a pulse by the time I cross the Neck. Nothing to do but out-maneuver them, then.
''Do I warrant a hearing? A trial?''

Rhaenys nodded. ''In two days.''

''Well, that should give me time to think of something,'' he said with a smile. Rhaenys nodded, not
sharing his cheerfulness. She stood up without a word and made to leave, but turned before
opening the door.

''You do believe us, don't you? That Aegon is the legitimate son of Rhaegar?'' she asked.

''I must admit, I had my doubts, Rhaenys. But you coming here today put an end to all of them.''

''Why?'' she surprised herself by asking.

''Because you are my sister, a child of Rhaegar Targaryen as much as I. And I have no doubt any
child of Rhaegar would remember they are a dragon first and a snake second. Isn't that right?'' His
quicksilver smile had her paling as she nodded and all but fled from his room.

Sweet sister, you are weaker than I thought, he considered, staring at the door after she left.
Wrecked by guilt, torn apart in having to choose which side of her family to betray, Rhaenys
looked lost. I have to break her. Crush her completely.

When the time came, Rhaenys had to take his side. She had to serve as the last ounce of proof that
Aegon died on the voyage to Dorne, for why else would his own sister betray him?

So Jaehaerys took in the new information and added them to the mosaic he built in his mind.

A few hours later, another knock came upon his door. This time Ser Jaime opened the door. Jae
honestly hadn't thought he'd get another chance to speak to the man. Whereas with Rhaenys he
could easily keep his cool, Ser Jaime presented an entirely different challenge.

Ser Jaime, the man who had watched over him for years. Ser Jaime, the only steadfast companion
he had as a lonely Prince in the capital. One look at him and his resolution of pawns and enemies
began to crack because suddenly the price seemed too high. Even when I had nothing, I had
Jaime. He wanted to retreat to his corner and get back to crying his eyes out. How can I ever trust
him again and what does it say about me?

''Did you know?'' the words were wrenched from his mouth.
Jaime had his eyes on the ground. He shook his head but wouldn't look up. Shame doesn't become
you, Kingslayer!

''Am I supposed to believe that?'' he all but shouted.

''I do not expect you to, Your Grace, but I knew nothing. My father thought me too loyal to Your
Grace. He thought I'd inform you of his plans.'' He said, his voice hoarse.

''And would you?''

This time Jaime looked up and Jae saw the pain his eyes. ''I do not know, Your Grace.''

That Jae could believe. Would I send Lord Stark to the chopping block for a man I'd sworn an oath
to protect? He did not know either. ''Why are you here?'' he asked, swallowing down emotions he
could not process.

''You are to present yourself before the Small Council, Your Grace. They've sent me to escort you.''
He said.

Tywin's playing games. Sending Jaime to make me believe all is back to normal. Maybe Jaime
really is loyal if his own father is using him. Or maybe Jaime's in on it. He hated his suspicions
about Jaime and hated the knowledge that they weren't going anywhere any time soon even more.

He nodded and walked out of his chambers without another word. They shared the trek to the
Small Council chambers in silence.

Jae walked in to find another piece of evidence screaming of Aegon's falseness, for Aegon wasn't
present. Lord Tywin, the new Hand of the King, sat at the head of the table. Lords Tarly, Velaryon,
Baratheon sat on one side of the table, Prince Oberyn, Pycelle and Lord Tyrion on the other.

''My Lords,'' he said with a nod when he walked in.

''Your Grace,'' Lord Tywin replied, those pale green eyes examining him. ''As you must know, you
are facing accusations of treason. You have been asked to join us here today so we may resolve the
issue.''

Resolve the issue? It dawned on him a moment later. They want something from me before they
send me to my death. ''And how might we go about that, my Lord Hand?''

''Lord Darry has witnesses to your treason, but perhaps an even more important concern is that your
Uncle is one of the main actors in the plot to depose King Aegon.'' Lord Tywin said and Jae could
not detect a single emotion in his countenance. A block of ice if ever I saw one.

''I am considered a fellow conspirator?'' he asked.

''Not at all,'' Pycelle wheezed, drawing an annoyed look from Tywin for daring to speak up. ''But
many believe the plot was executed with your blessing.''

''As you can imagine, it is imperative that you publicly denounce Lord Stark for his treason.''
Tywin quickly took back the reigns.

''Ah,'' A good way to convince the remaining skeptics that claims against Aegon are absolute
nonsense. Jae could almost imagine the stupid look on his face when he'd be sentenced to take the
black right after giving his testimony. ''Of course, my Lord Hand. My Uncle is a traitor and
deserves any punishment coming to him. I will do my part.''
Lord Tywin's eyes narrowed slightly. ''The King has agreed to give you a full pardon in exchange
due to the... well-intentioned nature of your crime.''

They didn't expect Rhaenys to tell him of their plans? Interesting and it boded well for his other
plans. ''I see the King is already proving himself a just and able ruler.'' He said, staring the Old
Lion right in the eyes.

The rest of the Small Council members regarded him in silence. Baratheon looked confused, the
others wary. Some of them had been around when Jae performed some of his greatest
tricks. They're about to see another one. They knew better than to declare him dead before seeing
his head on a pike and Jae resolved to prove them right.

''Indeed,'' Tywin nodded.

''Is there anything else?''

''No,'' Tywin said and dismissed him with a wave of a hand as though dismissing a servant.
That rankled.

Jae put on a charming smile and nodded to the Lords present. ''My Lords,'' and walked out of the
Small Council chambers, Ser Jaime following him.

''I knew everything would work out in the end.'' Ser Jaime said. He sounded relieved.

''What?'' Jae asked his mind far away. He had a lot of moves to make in the next two days.

''Your pardon, I mean. I knew they had to grant it.'' Jaime repeated.

''Ah, yes, of course.'' Jae shot him a brittle smile. He didn't have the energy to be convincing. He
headed straight back to his chambers and shut himself inside before Jaime could get another word
in, telling him not to let anyone disturb him for the rest of the day.

Once inside, he went for the latch behind his bed and climbed down into the tunnel that ran
beneath his chambers. Closing his eyes to remember the way, he crawled for an hour in the dark
among spiders, rats, and spider webs before he emerged in the guest wing of the Red Keep.

He sat in a chair, sipping on Arbor Gold when Lady Olenna and Margaery returned from their walk
through the gardens. He had a tough time getting all of the dirt off of him, but he managed. Can't
be visiting noble Ladies looking like a beggar.

Margaery jumped at the sight of him, barely covering her mouth in time to stop herself from
screaming. Wouldn't do to have the guards burst into the room.

''Now, now, my Lady,'' Jae chided, ''Is this any way to greet me now that we're to be such close
friends?''

Lady Olenna smiled to see him. ''I had wondered how long it would take you to show up.''

''You did?''

She nodded as she walked further into the room. ''And for the record, you're two days late.''

''A few things I had to do first, unfortunately.'' Like cry.

''I imagine you're here on a quest to save your life?'' she asked, without an ounce of pity for his
precarious position.
''Indeed, the most righteous cause I have ever embarked upon, if I may say so myself.'' Jae quipped,
earning a giggle from Margaery.

''And why should we help you in this endeavor of dubious worth?'' she said, sitting down when
Margaery pulled up a chair for her.

''A Tywin Lannister dominated capital is not exactly what Tyrell dreams are made of, is it?'' Jae
asked.

''Nor is having our heads mounted on spikes of the Traitor's Walk, Your Grace,'' Margaery
replied. Someone's grown a tongue.

''You wound me, my Lady. I would never ask my friends to take such a risk.'' He said, ''No, I
merely wish for you to express sympathy for me in a discreet, yet public way. Perhaps wonder out-
loud how many people had ignored the ridiculous restrictions placed by Connington only to be
saved from certain doom by the gracious Prince Jaehaerys.''

''Sway the public opinion? That will get you far.'' Sarcasm coated her words like poison. Do I
detect a hint of disappointment, my fair Lady?

''You wouldn't be remiss in pointing out that I might very well be aware of all the lawbreakers and
might decide they should share the fate of the Tully's,'' Jae added in some nastiness to spice up the
flavor. ''Turnabout is fair play, after all.''

Olenna nodded then, a light of understanding in her eyes. ''Something tells me we are but the first
stop of your tour this evening.''

''You would be correct, my Lady. I thought it only fitting that I visit distinguished Ladies such as
yourselves first.'' He thought it imperative he retain his ability for playful banter. You're not truly
standing on the brink of death until you begin to act like it. Let them wonder what else I have up
my sleeve.

''You flatter us, Your Grace.'' Lady Olenna said. After a beat of silence, she nodded to herself and
added, ''Very well, we will do as you ask. Not because I consider it to be a particularly brilliant
plan, mind you, but because it's the only chance I have of sparing myself from watching Cersei
Lannister prance through these halls for the rest of my life.''

Jae chuckled at that. He could only imagine how smug the proud Lions were at the moment.

''I shall thank the Gods for her disagreeable nature, then.'' He said with a smile.

''Indeed, now run along, construct your little schemes and remember I shall be very disappointed to
see your head on a stick.'' She said, patting his hand from across the table.

''My Lady,'' Jae said, putting his hand over his chest, ''One could be forgiven for thinking you've
grown fond of me.''

Olenna snorted, a most disorienting sound to come from a venerable Lady such as her. ''Go, you
insufferable child.''

Jae retreated back to the secret passageway, laughing all the while. He had a lot of visits to make.
 Chapter 18

Gods, but this waiting in the chamber with nothing to do had Jae on the edge of insanity. How in
the world did I bear it when I was younger? Back then he could spend entire days with nothing but
a book and the meals the servants brought him.

Now he'd been in them for six days and spent half the time pacing around the room like a caged
animal, itching to break free. Even all the late-night activities he'd been up to did not help in that
regard. He wanted to go to the practice yard and turn a straw dummy to splinters with Dark Sister.
He wanted to go for a walk, wanted to be back on the move again.

Patience, patience, he chanted in his head, his eyes never leaving the door, waiting for someone to
knock and tell him his trial would commence shortly.

He'd been denied visitors, though Princess Arianne tried to visit him anyway. Jae sent her away. He
had no wish to have anything more to do with her. He thought Prince Doran sent her to seduce him
and take him back to Dorne at first. The latest revelations showed the truth of her plans; she knew
about Aegon and wanted to become Jaehaerys' Queen. Another sliver of doubt about Aegon's
legitimacy.

True, she had a bit of a change of heart when she learned what becoming a Queen would entail, but
it hardly made things any better for Jaehaerys. She could have saved him from the entire mess if
only she wanted to. But she didn't, because of her loyalty to the Martells. And the Martells are my
enemies now. I can't be planning a war against them one moment and fucking the future head of
their House in the next.

No, political realities more than anything ensured Jae would have nothing to do with Arianne ever
again.

But he had to think about the possibility of finding a wife. He had much the same problems as
Aegon, though some additional options. He could marry Rhaenys but that marriage would be
worthless. It wouldn't gain him dornish support while Aegon lived and certainly not after he's been
killed. Daenerys was another option, but she brought no armies with her and did little to bolster his
legitimacy. Being the son of Rhaegar is worth more than being the daughter of the Mad King.

Which left Margaery, the self-serving little Lady he wouldn't trust if it meant being handed the
Seven Kingdoms on a platter. Olenna likely knew it, which is why she didn't demand marriage in
exchange for her help. But she'll get around to forcing me into it eventually. The question remained
if Jae would fight her on that score. Marrying Margaery brought some risks but spurning her meant
certain doom. Maybe I'll find a way around it.

Perhaps the answer lied in sabotaging Aegon's marriage to Myrcella? Lord Tywin's support for
Aegon was entirely predicated upon the idea that he'd get a future King with Lannister blood in
exchange. If Jae could ruin that option, it would mean Lord Tywin would turn to the only other
possible candidate – Jae. Of course, ruining their betrothal wouldn't be the easiest of things. Aegon
could embarrass Myrcella as much as he liked and Tywin wouldn't bat an eye. That one couldn't
care less about his granddaughter as long as she produced Heirs. Aegon could rape her and Tywin
would simply declare the marriage consummated, the stone-hearted bastard. Though who is worse?
The man who doesn't care about it or the man who'd make it happen if only he thought it would
work?

No, the only way to break their...

A knock came upon the door. Jae shot from his seat on the bed and smoothed out his immaculate
clothes. He made sure to paint the picture of a perfect Prince for the Court to see. ''Come in,''.

The door opened to reveal Ser Arthur and Ser Oswell. Jae thought they'd come to summon him and
made to leave the chambers, but they stepped inside instead. ''Ser Arthur?'' he asked with a frown.

''The trial shall begin shortly, Your Grace, but we wished for a chance to speak to you first.'' Ser
Arthur said, taking off his helm, Ser Oswell following his lead.

None of them were young men anymore, but they were far from old. Jae would call them mature.
Not the energetic youths who get themselves killed for a fleeting shot at glory or old men limited
by their years. No, these two had the wisdom that comes with age yet the physical ability that
comes with youth.

Young, flashing knights like Ser Loras Tyrell might inspire awe in the people around them, but
warriors like these two will have men pissing themselves at the thought of facing them. Jae himself
felt more than a little unease at the thought of it and he had Dark Sister to make up for any
deficiencies in his skill.

''Go on,'' he said, curious about their intentions.

''We may not know you very well, but from reputation alone, we can venture to guess you have
plans in place to make sure Lord Tywin cannot send you to the Wall or execute you.'' Ser Arthur
began. His back ramrod straight, jaw clenching, his presence screamed of a man who is about to
make a hard decision for the sake of honor and duty.

Jae's heart began to beat faster, a grin tugging at the corners of his lips. Is the greatest knight alive
about to tell me he's taken my side? ''I do have certain hopes that might come true, yes,'' Jae said,
brow-beating himself into caution.

Ser Arthur gave a firm nod. ''We would like you to know that should everything go wrong, the
entire Kingsguard with the exception of Prince Llewyn, and other loyal men within the Red Keep
will make sure no harm comes to you. We will cut a bloody path to freedom, if need be.'' And there
were the eyes that make men like Ser Arthur so terrifying; the eyes of a man who'll lay down his
life at a moment's notice.

Admitting they consider Aegon to be an impostor put the final nail in the coffin of Jae's doubts. I
am King, all those who deny it are traitors.

Jae blinked at his choice of words. Suddenly he felt foolish for his previous elation. These men are
not pawns one can gain or lose, they are men of honor and duty worth a hundred knights if only
you do not squander their loyalty and their lives. His back straightened in and of its own, his hands
going behind his back. ''I thank you for your words, good Sers. But there will be no need for it.
Even if all should go wrong, I bid you do nothing to save me.''

''We are Kingsguard, Your Grace,'' Ser Oswell said in his gruff voice, ''Sworn to protect the King,
die for him if need be.''

''Yes,'' Jae nodded, ''But I do believe there's something about obeying in your oaths as well, is it
not?''

He knew he had them when their eyes went to the ground. ''So I tell you this right now; if all
should go wrong, I will still save myself. I do not need you to kill yourself in a doomed attempt to
set me free. Risking your lives in the service of the King is a requirement for Kingsguard but
pointlessly sacrificing your lives is not. Is that understood?'' He made sure to play the part of the
noble Royal to the extreme, he figured they'd like that. As long as I back it up with actions.

''Aye, Your Grace.'' They said in unison.

''Very well, then. Let us depart.'' They left the chambers and made their way straight to the Throne
Room. Many servants and knights they passed on the way, all of them whispering and stealing
glances yet none looked malicious. Either Lord Tywin isn't as good as swaying public opinion as I
would expect or something else is ruining his efforts.

When they arrived before the doors of the Throne Room, Jae took a deep breath to steel himself.
He had to keep his composure and trust in the quality of his planning. A hard thing to do when
you've been handed the greatest failure of your life a few days ago. But he had no choice. He
considered it a matter of pride since he'd first heard of great warriors who never recovered after
being handed stunning defeat. There's always a risk, but if I lose my nerve, the Seven Kingdoms
will go to shit.

The doors opened and he raised his head up high and walked through. The entire Court had
gathered to witness his trial, parting before Jaehaerys as he made his way to the Iron Throne. The
people present no longer consisted of nobles from the Crownlands and poor sods who had no
choice but visit King's Landing. The flower of Westerosi nobility met him instead, from the proud
Lords to valiant knights and beautiful Ladies.

More players to contend with but then again, many more pawns to use. It pleased him to see the
defendant's box hadn't been placed before the Iron Throne. Not looking like a criminal would go a
long way in convincing everyone he wasn't one.

Aegon sat on top of the iron monstrosity Jae supposedly wanted to claim, Lord Tywin to the right
of it, the Small Council to the left. Daenerys and Rhaenys stood among the rest of the nobles
present, both trying their best not to fidget if Jae read them correctly. But where is Queen Elia?

He came to a stop before the stairs that led to the Throne and bowed. ''Your Grace, my Lords.''

Aegon nodded, his entire body taut. A different look than any Jae had seen before.

''Prince Jaehaerys,'' Lord Tywin began, ''You have been summoned here today to answer questions
about the treachery of your Uncle, Lord Stark, and accusations of your own treachery regarding the
actions of Lord Tully. How do you plead to these charges?''

''Innocent, my Lord Hand,'' Jae replied. He would be a stone in the middle of a hurricane he meant
to unleash. Well, right up until the end. He smiled inwardly just to think about it.

Lord Tywin nodded. ''We shall begin with Lord Darry's accusations.'' And suspend judgment until I
condemn Lord Stark. Nifty. ''Lord Darry, approach.''

The foul man swaggered forth, wearing the self-satisfied grin of a man who'd vanquished the Ice
Dragon. Jae considered he should be flattered by how proud Lord Darry looked. Must be shit-
scared of me.

Darry took his place beside Jae and looked up at Lord Tywin. ''Describe to us the events of the
evening before the coronation.''

''Yes, my Lord Hand,'' Darry nodded, gathering himself. ''In the evening hours after I'd retired from
the feast, my Steward informed me that Prince Jaehaerys waited outside my chambers and wished
to speak to me. I found it most odd since the Prince had never sought me out in private before, but I
asked my steward to let him in all the same.''

''The Prince all but barged into my chambers, smelling of alcohol most foul, and accused me of
trying to sabotage the Council of Lords for my own gains by exposing the actions of Lord Tully.''
He cleared his throat, ''I must admit, I had no idea what the Prince was referring to, but guessed
that House Tully committed some sort of treason the Prince wished to keep quiet. The Prince told
me to stop feigning ignorance, that I knew House Tully had been attacking taxmen sent by the
Crown to recoup their gold and even had ten Tully men-at-arms in my custody to back up the
claim. He then proceeded to threaten me with exposing my own treachery if I did not agree to
forget all about it.''

''And did you commit the treason Prince Jaehaerys accused you of?''

''I did not, my Lord Hand. Many of us across the Kingdoms have suffered under Connington's rule,
yet I did not consider it to be an excuse to betray the Crown my family has served so faithfully for
centuries.'' Lord Darry concluded his statement.

''And you have witnesses to this event?''

''I do, my Lord Hand. My steward and my wife.''

''Thank you, Lord Darry, you are dismissed.'' Darry nodded, threw one last nasty look at Jae and
retreated back to the crowd of nobles, all whispering among themselves.

''Even after such testimony, you still claim to be innocent, Your Grace?'' Lord Tywin asked.

''I do.'' Jae nodded, undeterred.

''Elaborate,'' Tywin barked, a bit of annoyance peeking through.

''I've grown up in the capital, my Lord Hand. I've learned long ago that there are two ways of
dealing with things; one starts a war and another prevents it. I knew Lord Darry has long been
blinded by his lust for vengeance and believed he would interfere with the Council of Lords and
threaten the fragile peace in the name of personal advancement.'' Jae said, voice calm and
confident.

''That's a lie!'' Darry shouted from behind him. Jae did not turn to look at him. You are
insignificant!

''I believed King Aegon would not want his reign to begin with a war in the Riverlands, for any
attempt to remove House Tully from their position as Lords Paramount would surely lead to one.
So I attempted to keep the matter quiet until the Council of Lords passed and deal with it
afterward.''

''And why should we believe your claims?'' Lord Tywin asked, knowing a plot laid behind Jae's
answer. He had to unearth it for if he did not, Jae's argument would sound far too reasonable to
most of the people present.

''Why, my Lord Hand, I made sure to inform people of my intentions so as to make sure my plans
would not be disrupted by accident.'' Jae took a deep breath. Now comes to risky part.

''Who did you inform?'' Tywin barked out.

''Princess Rhaenys, my Lord Hand. I wanted another member of the Royal family to be aware of
my plans.'' He said, staring up at Tywin as all eyes of the Court turned to the Princess. Jae had done
nothing of the sort, of course, he didn't have time. But they didn't know that. And Jae wagered
Rhaenys wouldn't tell them. Torn as she was by conflicting loyalties, she may very well have been
willing to see Jae sent to his death while she watched helplessly from the side. But if I give her a
chance to save me, if I burden her with responsibility for my fate? Will she doom me and live with
the guilt or will she save me?

He looked her right in the eyes as she froze under the gaze of the Court. Eyes wide, she stared back
at Jae, the horrible realization of his plan dawning on her. I'm sorry, sister.

''Is this true, Princess?'' Tywin asked in a quiet voice. This little farse of a trial wasn't going as he
imagined.

She looked up at him, ''I—I—'' then looked back at Jaehaerys. ''Yes, my Lo—Lord Hand. It's true.''

Jae tried his best to hide the sigh of relief that escaped him and succeeded only partially. You're
one of the dragons now, big sister. Gods help you.

''I see,'' Lord Tywin nodded, his stony mask returning to his face. Aegon's eyes were jumping back
and forth between Jae and Rhaenys, a sadness hiding in their depths he could not hide. The two
children of Rhaegar Targaryen and you, some random child they pulled from the gutter because
his eyes were the right shade of purple.

Jae had his own suspicions about why his arrival to Court had been delayed. He must've learned
the truth. A bright, idealistic young man, eager to be a force for good, raised on the belief he'd
been born to be a King. Jae could only wonder what learning it is all a lie could do to a man. Noble
and gracious when sober, petty and vindictive when drunk, it all makes sense now.

''Why did you not inform the King of your plans, Your Grace?'' Tywin asked.

Jae cocked his head, ''Why did you not inform the King of Lord Starks and Lord Arryns plans, my
Lord Hand?'' That got the Court whispering. Prince Jaehaerys did it to keep the peace, Lord Tywin
did it to seize power! He could almost hear them.

Tywin did not deign to defend himself, knowing it would only make things worse. But what will he
do next now that I've proven I acted to preserve the peace instead of protecting the family of Lord
Stark's wife.

Tywin seemed to be asking himself the same question before a determined look appeared on his
face. Jae knew what that meant. This is not a popularity contest. When a King makes a decision the
nobility disagrees with, he has to watch for any claimant to the Throne they might choose to
support instead. But once they get rid of me, who will be left to support? Viserys?

''Let us move on to the matter of Lord Stark's treachery.'' He said.

Jae nodded.

''You had no knowledge about your Uncle's actions prior to the attempted coup?'' Lord Tywin
pressed.

''I did not, my Lord. You and Lord Varys alone were privy to that information.'' Jae replied, his
straight face belying the little sting. He saw Lord Tywin's eye twitch and marked another victory in
his column.

''And what do you believe should be done with Lord Stark now that his treacherous agenda has
been exposed?'' Lord Tywin asked.
Jae wouldn't mean what he would say, but Tywin did not care because he played a larger game. A
Crown Prince can say a great many of things with little regard for how they might be construed. A
Crown Prince can lie and he can deceive. For a King, on the other hand, the matter is entirely
different. A King's word is the law, his honor unquestionable. A King cannot tell people he'd been
forced to throw his Uncle to the wolves because to refuse meant his life.

A King is a paragon of virtue. If choosing the honorable course means dying, then the King must
die. That's the official story, anyway. If Jae came out and declared Aegon the rightful King while
saying Stark and Arryn should die for their crimes, the people of the North and the Vale would
hear about it. Tywin would make sure they'd hear about it.

And so the Lords would wonder if they should truly support a King who'd betrayed their liege
Lords. A good way to nip a rebellion in the bud if ever there was one... if Tywin hadn't given me
too much time. He should've held the hearing the day after I was arrested. Instead, he chose to
play his little charade with Daenys Velaryon and consolidate his power. Jae had been
overconfident when dealing with the Council and he paid the price. And if everything went
according to plan, Tywin is about to pay as well.

Still, Jae made sure to word his condemnation in a way that left room for a broad interpretation.
''Aegon has been declared King, my Lord Hand, and by all the laws of this land, Lord Stark
deserves to live with the consequences of his actions.'' Such as receiving a big fucking reward.

But then something unexpected happened. The doors of the Throne Room burst open and a lone
Goldcloak rushed through, running straight for the Iron Throne. ''Your Grace, my Lord Hand!'' he
cried.

Jae and the rest of the Court turned to look at the panicked man.

''What is it?'' Tywin barked, furious that some hired soldier dared to interrupt the trial.

''It's Lord Stark, my Lord Hand!'' he said as he stopped before the Iron Throne. ''He's escaped!''

Jae wanted to laugh until he pissed himself. Maybe it's gone even better than I planned. But then he
remembered an important omission in the Goldcloak's statement. What about Arryn? He's escaped
too, hasn't he? Go on, tell them how all the traitors have vanished into thin air.

''What?!'' Tywin roared as the rest of the Court exploded in a flurry of whispers. Lady Olenna
watched Jaehaerys, nodding in wonder and appreciation. I've made Grandmother proud, what an
achievement!

''How could this happen?''Aegon spoke up for the first time, leaning forward in his seat.

''They've escaped during the night but the ship Lord Arryn boarded had all of its riggings ripped
off and they had to return to port. One of our men searched the ship and recognized Lord Arryn.
When we went to check on Lord Starks's cell, we found the guards from the night shift slain and
his cell empty!''

Rigging? Poor fucking rigging fucked up my plans? If Jae had Dark Sister on him, he'd have killed
the Goldcloak on the spot, but he had to hide his thoughts, couldn't give too much away. The chaos
that erupted in the Throne Room afforded him a chance to gather himself.

Everything hadn't gone wrong, though. Uncle Ned had gotten away which was crucial. My value as
a hostage just went up. Jae knew they wouldn't catch him. He and a merry band of renegade
Goldcloaks snuck into the Black Cells in the dead of night and killed the two guards posted there.
The coup de grace came in the form of the guards assigned to the morning shift, however. They
were bought and paid for by Jae, so they raised no alarm when they found the corpses of their
comrades.

They were probably standing on the deck of a ship sailing for Lys with a bag of gold in each hand,
ready to bed every whore that comes within spitting distance. Fare thee well, you wonderful
bastards.

The eyes of the Court turned to Jae, Lord Tywin's gaze most furious of all. Jae adopted the same
innocent expression he used when he'd been naughty but knew Maester Alwyn couldn't prove it. I
have to get satisfaction where I can find it. He found it tragic that he'd spent an entire night
crawling through the secret passageways only to find his supporters wouldn't get a chance to speak
up at all.

Lord Tywin stared down at him, murder plain in his eyes. Oh, yes, Lion, you and I shall have
ourselves a little dance and one of us won't be alive by the end of it.

Aegon chose to put an end to the farce before Lord Tywin came to grips with the new reality. He
stood from the Iron Throne and declared, ''Prince Jaehaerys is hereby declared innocent of all
charges. You are free to go, brother.''

Can you make it any more obvious that I forced your hand? Jae thought as he bowed deeply,
mockingly so, and strutted out of the Throne Room, enjoying the apprehensive looks sent his way.
Lord Darry, in particular, looked decidedly uncomfortable.

Such a glorious history of serving House Targaryen, he thought. It's a pity it's come to an end.
 Chapter 19

Gods, how he enjoyed the change from the in behavior from the servants and nobles on the way
back to his chambers. They passed him when he made his way to the Throne Room.
They parted when he made his way back. King's Landing is my home and I'm not fucking going
anywhere.

He even spotted Ser Arthur and Ser Oswell exchanging looks from the corner of his eye. Best not
let myself grow too confident, though. That way laid only disaster. He had Tywin Lannister to deal
with, not Jon Connington. He'll come back with a fury unmatched. He had to prepare for it, not
gloat about his minor success. Surviving isn't the same as winning.

He wanted to retreat to his chambers and get back to his internal game of cyvasse when a servant
appeared in his path. Ser Arthur and Ser Oswell stepped forth, hands-on their blades, scaring the
life out of the man. Jae felt a shiver of pleasure at their protectiveness.

''His Grace, King Aegon asks you join him in the Small Council chambers, Your Grace.'' He said,
his voice wavering, eyes glued to Ser Arthur and the legendary blade he feared to taste.

''Thank you, we will be there shortly. I only have to make one stop first.'' The servant nodded and
scurried away while Jae and his knights walked back to his chambers. Jae went inside just to grab
Dark Sister and strap it to his waist. He could've sworn Ser Arthur smiled when he emerged from
his chambers with it.

Jae speed-walked to the Small Council chambers convinced Tywin Lannister had summoned him
in Aegon's name. He didn't think he'd find the entire Royal family arrayed before him, with the
exception of Rhaenys.

Aegon, Oberyn, Arianne and Queen Elia stood in the Small Council chamber and all of them
jumped when he walked in. Prince Llewyn stood behind Aegon, glaring at his two white brothers.

''Broth—'' Aegon stopped himself. A confession if ever I saw one. Oberyn looked to be seething as
he'd been since the day of the coronation, while Elia seemed on the verge of tears. Arianne knew
what would come and made her peace with it. ''Prince Jaehaerys, thank you for joining us.''

''My pleasure, Your Grace.'' Where is Rhaenys?

''We asked you to join us here today to let you know we did not want the trial. Lord Tywin had
forced it and as I'm sure you can understand, we had no choice.'' Oberyn said, approaching a level
of diplomatic-speak Jae did not think him capable of.

He could've said many things, pointed out many ways they could have given themselves a choice.
Aegon's position allowed him to execute a thousand different plots to get rid of Tywin Lannister. If
he's all-powerful, why isn't he here, then?

''I understand.'' Jae nodded. If he could convince them to work with him, if his show in the Throne
Room drove home the point that Lord Tywin isn't infallible, he would take it.

''We do not want a war between us, Jaehaerys,'' Elia said.

''Neither do I,'' Jae agreed, ''But if you think I will accept the present situation, you're mad.''

''And what solution do you propose?'' Oberyn asked, ''Our options are limited.''
Jae's eyes came to rest on the Prince of Dorne. He lied, of course. They had many options, but most
of them meant Aegon would not keep his Throne. Jae doubted the dornish would accept such a turn
of events. The plot might've begun as a bid to keep their hold on the Throne, but recent events had
changed its nature. They're only trying to survive. Dorne has long been despised by the rest of the
kingdoms. Having so desperately clung to their independence, they broke every rule set forth by
Gods and men to preserve it. Might be they expected to be feared and respected for their ability to
resist Targaryen's in spite of dragonfire. They found only despisal instead.

It took decades and five Blackfyre rebellions for the other six Kingdoms to forget about Rhaenys
and her fate, to forget the Young Dragon had been murdered under a flag of truce. And now the
dornish have committed their greatest crime yet. They made the nobles of Westeros kneel to a
common-born impostor, Jae thought, watching Oberyn. He knows the price of confession.

''What options would that be?'' Jae inquired.

''The North, the Vale, and the Riverlands already believe this drivel about Aegon not being
Rhaegar's son. Stannis Baratheon does too, though he has little chance to speak of it... To get rid of
Tywin Lannister means surrendering the Throne to rebels!'' Oberyn exclaimed, clenching his fists.

It would not be as simple as that. Jae expected the Riverlands to be divided, if not naturally then by
Tywin Lannister's hand. The North stood behind him, to be sure, but the Vale remained a gaping
question. Who knows that that crazy wife of Arryn's will do. All of which left Stannis Baratheon, a
hostage in King's Landing. Ser Orys, who'd been allowed to return home since Tywin believed the
boy would never endanger his father, was by all accounts well-liked by the people and nobles of
the Stormlands. The matter of his competency, however, remained to be seen. He can swing a
sword but can he wield an army?

Men love to count their allies as though they're little more than pieces on a board. But every one of
those pieces has pieces under him. Fathers have ambitious sons under them with different outlooks
on the world, younger brothers aching for a chance at kinslaying. And all of them have neighbors
they'd love to see die. Some regions seem stable during peacetime only to fall apart when the horns
of war sound. If there is treachery to be found, war will surely uncover it.

All the kingdoms that have suffered under the Regency hated Connington out-loud and their own
liege Lords quietly. Lord Stannis enjoyed respect in the Stormlands, but none of the nobles forgot
how many of their sons died due to his stubbornness during the doomed Siege of Storm's End. The
same could be said of every other Lord Paramount who'd fought in the rebellion. Dying in vain is
not good for morale. They followed them to war once, who knows if they will follow again.

But Jae had, for the first time, considered a far grimmer reality. I cannot work with the Martells. If
they had come to him and revealed the truth, it would have been easy to make sure none found out
about it. He would have supported Aegon and the peace would've been maintained. Perhaps I'd
have to fuck Aegon's wife to ensure his offspring had Targaryen blood, but that would be no great
chore, I imagine.

But now, to work with them meant losing all face with the Lords of the Realm. He'd set Eddard
Stark free, everyone knew. Why would I do that if I thought Aegon to have a legitimate claim to the
Throne?

No, to support Aegon now would mean losing support from all over the realm. They would still
rebel, they just wouldn't be led by a Targaryen any longer.

Taking the Throne and marrying anyone with Martell's blood would have the same effect. They'd
say he rewarded the Martells with a Queen for their treachery. It can't be done. Honor would not
permit it. He found the notion ridiculous, but even he knew better than to dismiss its power to
influence the minds of men.

War is the only way to peace. Always has been.

''You will surrender the Throne, one way or another,'' Jae said, surprising them with his change of
tone. ''There is no escaping your actions, but you might find redemption. Help me take care of
Tywin Lannister and I will pardon you for your actions. Refuse, and we shall have a war.''

Oberyn shot up from his seat. ''You realize our little life debt will not help you then.''

''I never expected it to,'' Jae dismissed him.

''And what stops Aegon from ordering your arrest this very moment? You are a hostage, are you
not? Perhaps its time you start being treated like one.'' Oberyn snarled, his hand going to his sword.

But Ser Oswell and Ser Arthur mirrored his movements and they all knew what that meant. ''I
wonder what the people of the Realm will say, when they hear the greatest knight alive, a
dornishman no less, died to save me from captivity?'' A shadow fell over Jae's eyes. ''Nothing will
unite the Realm against you faster.''

''You betray us, Arthur?'' Oberyn asked as though Jae hadn't spoken, genuinely dumbstruck.

''It is you who betrayed me, Oberyn,'' Arthur said, his voice hollow behind the helm.

''When Aegon was brought to Dorne, we believed your tales of sickness, never thinking you only
wanted to keep us away. Keep us from paying attention.'' Ser Oswell said with the voice of a man
who'd served a lie for fifteen years.

''When you postponed his return to King's Landing,'' Ser Arthur continued where Oswell left off,
''And this boy spent all his days locked in his chambers screaming at you, we still did not question
it.''

''Nor when we saw he looked nothing like his father, nothing like any of his family for all of his
Valyrian looks.'' Jae got the feeling the two had been itching for an opportunity to say these things.
''But when Lord Arryn and Lord Stark leveled their accusations against you...''

''We knew them to be true.'' Ser Arthur finished. ''And we will not take part in your treason any
longer.''

''So perhaps, it is why we shouldn't arrest you all that is the real question.'' Ser Oswell said, his
sword sliding half-way out of its sheath.

''Because of me.'' A voice came from behind them. Tywin Lannister walked into the room, a dozen
Lannister guards behind him.

Jae got his first glimpse of Dawn when both men drew their sword and readied themselves for a
fight. He did not touch Dark Sister. He and Tywin played a game of cyvasse and both knew that
you do not capture a dragon, no matter how satisfying it might feel, if it means losing the game.

''Stand down, Sers.'' He said, watching Tywin walk around the desk and take his place beside
Aegon with a polite smile.

''I warned you, Your Grace,'' he said, his eyes on Jae the entire time. ''This man cannot be reasoned
with. He will do anything to steal your Throne.''
''Amusing that such an accusation should come from you, my Lord Hand.''

''You might think yourself safe, Your Grace. But the threat from the North shan't always be there to
protect you.'' Tywin said, his confidence arousing all sorts of suspicions in Jaehaerys.

''Out!'' Aegon erupted all of a sudden. ''All of you! Out!''

Jae did not move even as all got to their feet. He knew Aegon did not mean him. He nodded to Ser
Arthur and Ser Oswell and they left along with everyone else, Lord Tywin failing to hide his
irritation at being ordered around. Arianne eyed his sadly when she walked by. Goodbye, my dear.

When the Small Council chamber emptied, Aegon walked over to the corner and poured two cups
of wine, offering one to Jae. He moved around the table and accepted it gladly.

Aegon raised his glass and said, ''To power-hungry families and the thousands they murder.''

Jae watched him down the cup in one go, taking but a small sip himself.

''Aegon Targaryen, Sixth of His Name.'' Aegon smiled. ''A quaint little story. I loved it growing up.
Now I don't even know my real name and they won't tell me.''

''It's not your fault they lied to you,'' Jae said, pitying the man.

''No,'' Aegon agreed, ''It is not.'' He looked Jae right in the eyes. ''But what I do next will be.'' He
poured himself another cup, walked back to his chair and sat down, gesturing for Jae to do the
same. ''And what should I do? Escape King's Landing and run away to Essos?'' He shrugged, ''I
doubt I could pull it off. I'm as much of a prisoner as Lord Arryn and even you couldn't
get him out.'' He took a sip. ''Stay here then? Help you? I suppose it's possible, but once you take
your Throne there will be no place for me and I doubt any of your allies would suffer my presence.
More likely have me executed, methinks.''

''That wouldn't happen.''

Aegon snorted. ''You believe that because it's in your best interest to convince me to believe it. But
deep down, you know it's true.'' He nodded to himself, needing no admission from Jae. ''Which
leaves the last option; acting out this charade to the fullest. I am a King, anything lesser just won't
measure up.''

Yes, Jaehaerys could see it. Trapped in a corner, Aegon decided he might as well fight his way out.

''So I say this to you, dear brother of mine. I think you're a good man and I think you might make a
great King... But so might I. So since I've been raised my entire life to be a King and since I've been
crowned a King, I've decided to be a King.'' He put his glass down and pushed it away. ''You will
fight your war and I will fight mine. The moment you walk out of these chambers, I shall do my
utmost to kill you. I say this to you not out of any malice towards you, nor because I think you
deserve it, but because I refuse to let my entire life be little more than a stage play conducted by
others, with me having no say in it. I hope you can forgive me for that.''

Jae stared at him, his respect for Aegon increasing tenfold. They should have told me, he lamented
for the last time, I would have made him the greatest King to sit the Throne since Aegon the
Dragon.

''I can,'' Jae said, ''And for what it's worth, I am sorry as well.'' Aegon nodded in understanding. ''I
wish you luck in the wars to come.'' Jae stood up and held out his hand.
Aegon took it and the two young men, who should have shaped the histories for the better, shook
hands and went on their way, to play their little game and see who'd be dead by the end of it.

O-O-O

''It's been a long time, since we've had the chance to go on a walk like this.'' Jae smiled as he
strolled through the Godswood, Daenerys on his arm.

''But of course, you've been to busy trying to save the world.'' Daenerys replied, plucking a flower
as she went.

Jae snorted in amusement. ''Doesn't seem like such a good excuse anymore,''

''Indeed,'' Dany nodded with a haughty look she once so proudly wore and now mocked, ''If you're
going to ignore your beloved Aunt, you might as well ensure you make history instead.''

He did not feel the sting of her jape as he might have expected to. Rather, her light-hearted
approach to such a dire matter lightened the burden he'd been carrying since the day of the
coronation. If Dany could forgive him for his failure, mayhaps others could as well. ''Your heart is
quite cold for someone who's so fond of fire, you know.''

Dany laughed, hitting him on the arm. ''Did you hear the news from Dragonstone? About my
beloved brother?''

''What?'' Jae demanded more than he asked. He'd been wondering how Viserys would react to the
latest developments.

''Oh, it's nothing for you to worry about, I assure you.'' She knew where his mind had taken him.

''Alright, but tell me anyway.''

''He's called the Lords to Dragonstone, you see. Wanted to declare himself King and invade King's
Landing.'' She said, laughing all the while.

''I take it, it didn't go well?'' Jae asked, smiling at her delight.

''No, it did not. The Lords came, the Lords threw him in the dungeon, the Lords asked Aegon what
he wants to do with him.'' Dany explained, drawing a laugh from Jae. Oh, if only he could have
seen Viserys' reaction to being humiliated like that. His screams of indignation had to have
shattered a couple of windows.

The two of them laughed like little children, joint in the hatred of the man who'd tormented them
both. ''He's always had delusions of grandeur.''

''Yes, it seems to be spreading these days.'' She said but her smile disappeared when she heard her
own words. ''I'm sorry, Jae, I didn't me—''

''To remind me there's to be a war?'' Jae asked with a sad smile. ''Worry not. I haven't forgotten.''

She nodded, biting her lip. ''Do—Do you think you'll win?''

''Do I—'' he hadn't considered it. All his plans were geared up toward eventual victory, but he
hadn't thought about it in those terms. ''Yes... I will.'' He forced himself to say. He didn't bother
thinking about failure.

''I think you will.'' Dany said with a nod, as though she thought it self-evident.
''Why?'' he asked, a smile blossoming on his face at her blatant disregard for all the obstacles in his
way.

''I'm not sure,'' she shrugged, ''But I think you were born for this. I've always known it, since the
day you set me down and told me I better watch how I behaved before I got us all killed.'' She
giggled at the memory of it.

He did not know what to tell her. ''Thank you, Dany.''

''Why? I haven't done anything. But I do want to help you.'' She said, looking up to him and he saw
a weight in her eyes.

''What do you mean?''

''You'll have to forge alliances to win this war. Best way to do it is through marriage.''

''So wha—''

''Whatever you say, Jae, whomever you need me to marry. I'll do it. I'll even seduce them if that's
what it takes.'' She said, licking her lips and winking to showcase her ability.

''Dany, you're not some pawn to be—''

''But I am.'' She interrupted him again. ''Only fools and liars would claim otherwise. You've done
so much to keep the peace and the rest of us so little. I want to do my part.''

''Hopefully, it will not come to that.'' But I know it will and I hate myself for it.

She gave him a frank look, not accepting his little fairy tale in the slightest. ''Choose someone from
the Riverlands or the Vale. I don't care if he's an idiot, I'll learn to manage him.''

It seems she's been paying attention. He could only nod, knowing no words could do his feelings
justice. It struck him that of all the people, Dany's the only one who'd been loyal to him
unquestionably. Who's helped him work towards the betterment of the Realm at her personal
expense. And the one I've spent the least amount of time with.

''I—'' the sound of bells ringing interrupted him. He looked around, saw a page running through the
halls at the edge of the Godswood. ''Come,'' he said, pulling Dany with him.

''What's happened?'' he asked when they entered the Keep and a young squire scurried by.

''The Ironborn, Your Grace! They've burned Lannisport! The King's called a session of Court.'' and
after a quick bow he ran on.

''Lannisport?'' Daenerys breathed, looking up at him. ''Did you expect this?''

Expect them to rebel or do me the favor of making Lord Tywin look like a fool? ''Not entirely,'' he
told her, ''Come.''

And together they made their way to the Throne Room, encountering countless nobles who wanted
to learn what happened on the way.

Rumors already ran rampant, he could tell by listening to some of the conversations of the nobles
as they entered the Throne Room. Apparently, an armada of a thousand ships had taken Lannisport
and marched on Casterly Rock. Another claimed the northerners had done it, though no one
considered that the North didn't have a fleet. Those whispers were accompanied by glances at Jae.
Aegon walked into the Throne Room and all the whispering came to an end. He carried himself
differently, the doubt that had plagued him the entire time Jae knew him gone. An altogether
different adversary. The rest of the Small Council followed him and Jae saw Lord Tyrion staring at
him, inclining his head in acknowledgment. Jae returned the greeting.

Aegon did not climb the stairs of the Iron Throne. He stopped before the Iron Throne instead and
faced the crowd. Hands behind his back, a calm look on his face, his demeanor served to calm all
those present on its own. At least I don't have a fool parading around as my brother.

''As I'm sure you have heard, the Ironborn have launched a savage, unprovoked attack upon
Lannisport. Most of the fleet has been burned and judging by early report, so has the majority of
the city.'' The Court erupted in a flurry of whispers at his pronouncement. ''Unity!'' Aegon raised
his voice, putting an end to them. ''Unity is what our Realm needs in this grave hour, if we are to
combat this grave threat to all of us. To that end, We are pleased to announce that Lady Cersei
Lannister's betrothal to Ser Edmure Tully of Riverrun.'' Jae didn't spot the man until all eyes turned
to him as he bowed to Aegon. That's one way to buy your freedom.''And the betrothal of Lady
Margaery to the Heir of Casterly Rock, Joffrey Lannister.''

Jae hadn't met the boy himself, having arrived to the capital only days earlier, but guessed him to
be a preening little shit at first sight.

His eyes found Lady Olenna to discover her staring at him, a challenge in her eyes. So that's your
play, dearest Grandmother. An alliance of the Reach, the Westerlands and the Riverlands had to
potential to undo all of his plans. They had the might to repel any and all attacks from his rebels.

The way Dany squeezed his arm only proved it.

''The Ironborn think us weak! The Ironborn think they can return to their ways of plundering and
raping through these lands. But together we shall show them the strength of Westeros and drive
those foul raiders back to those desolate rocks they call home!''

The Court erupted in cheers, all of them applauding their bold, charismatic young King.

Jae stood at the back of the room, thinking; Well, you've made your move. I suppose it's my turn
now.
 Chapter 20

Only Aegon and Tywin were far from done because the next couple of days brought nothing but
bad news for Jaehaerys. He learned the expiration dates of marital alliances the hard way. He
always knew the Riverlands would be divided, but didn't think the Tully's would end up on the
wrong side of the struggle. Lord Tully did not even fight Tywin's obvious attempt to take control of
his lands, eagerly accepting the betrothal to the widowed Cersei Lannister. His old friends, the
Hawick's and the Motoon's along with every other House who did not fear the Ironborn took Jae's
side. They did not declare war, but they made it clear they had no intention of going to war on the
side of the Lannisters. Not worth much. If I can't get them help, their little act of defiance will be
squashed in due time.

The other blow came when Lord Royce and the rest of the Vale Lords left the capital to return
home. Lord Tywin released them. Or mayhaps Aegon did. He's not a puppet any longer. Lord
Royce had told him before leaving that ''Lord Arryn has confessed he'd been deceived and ordered
all his vassals to heed the orders of the Crown.''

Lord Royce clearly had difficulty believing it, as had the rest of the Vale Lords, and that way lies
opportunity, but these honorable men would obey the commands they were given in spite of their
doubts.

But the biggest blow, the one Jae feared might end up costing him his head, came from the North.
Aegon had summoned him to his chambers and told him with a straight face and not a hint of
gloating, that a King Beyond the Wall by the name of Mance Rayder had attacked Castle Black
and the northern army gathered around Winterfell marched to repel him.

They didn't send him to the chopping block, but Jae knew they were preparing for that very
eventuality. The war might very well end by the time Ned Stark took care of the wildlings and the
North on its own would not be able to mount a successful rebellion against the Crown.

He wanted to run. He wanted to get into the secret passageways and run before they took his head.
He'd long been playing a dangerous game, but he feared he'd gone too far, risked too much. He
wanted to go North, help the Starks get rid of the Wildlings and then march back south to take his
Throne.

That way lies only defeat and if I'm going to lose, I might as well do it properly. He couldn't
escape, he had to roll the dice. Too many allies would be lost if he went North, too many. I thought
I was done before the trial, I'll survive once more.

I have to stir up some trouble, no way around it. I have to become the shark who'll sabotage peace.
But first, he had to know what in the world happened. What would make Lord Arryn recant his
statements? And if he did not, how did Tywin make the Lords of the Vale believe it? And where
the fuck did this King Beyond the Wall come from? Who should he blame for his emergence?
Varys? Tywin?

If you've ever wondered how Kings end up mad, you know now .

Much to his chagrin, the little spy network he had in place in the Red Keep had been undone. He
knew it after the fourth spy sang the same tale of a regretful Lord Arryn begging
forgiveness. Another one of Aegon's moves, has to be. It forced him to resort once more to methods
he thought he left behind.
He crawled through the secret passageways straight to the Small Council chamber, to listen to the
conversations of the ruling Lords of the Realm as though he was one-and-ten once more. I thought
becoming King would mean leaving the indignities behind.

He sat there for hours, waiting for the meeting of the Small Council to begin. They had neglected
to inform him of their new schedule. At last, as his legs grew numb and his back began to ache,
Aegon walked into the chamber, the rest of his Small Council walking behind him. They took their
seats as Jae watched them through the tiny crack in the wall.

''I call this session of the Small Council to order,'' Aegon started, looking to Lord Tywin, ''What is
the situation up North?''

''The Starks have found themselves in a heap of trouble, Your Grace. An army of a hundred
thousand sits at their doorstep. They shan't be bothering us anytime soon.'' Lord Tywin said.

''Your Grace should consider executing Prince Jaehaerys. He no longer serves any purpose as a
hostage. The war in the south will be over by the time Lord Stark deals with those savages if he
deals with them at all.'' Pycelle counseled.

''And yet,'' Lord Tyrion spoke up, ''If I know my histories, the Starks have been dealing with Kings
Beyond the Wall for centuries, and rather successfully too.''

''It does not matter,'' Lord Velaryon said, ''Grand Maester Pycelle is correct; if the war in the south
is over by the time they deal with the wildlings, it will be too late for them.''

''Then hold him hostage until then. If the war will indeed be over, Prince Jaehaerys will serve as a
way to pacify the North. Execute him and Lord Stark might consider what benefits there are to be
found in serving the Crown in the first place; do no forget. He's lost three family members to
Targaryen's in the past twenty years. It would unwise to add another one.''

''Lord Tyrion speaks truly,'' Aegon spoke up, ''We cannot resort to violence if we have the chance,
and indeed the excuse, to resort to other measures. And besides, we must win the war in the south
if we are to isolate Lord Stark.''

''Neutralize him, then,'' Oberyn spoke up. ''Marry him to some wench of proper standing who does
not bring an army with her maidenhead.''

''Of course, that would mean getting rid of him later would become much more... complicated.''
Lord Tywin commented.

They both looked to Aegon who stared back. ''How go the other theaters of war, my Lords?'' he
asked, dismissing their suggestion. It wouldn't have mattered even if he agreed with it. Jae would
have gone along and claimed later he'd been forced to wed at swordpoint. Every septon in the land
would declare the marriage null and void. Aegon has to know the same.

''The Vale of Arryn is on our side, Your Grace,'' Lord Tywin spoke up again, ''This... Baelish
fellow has his claws dug deep into Lady Lysa. With Lord Arryn's apparent confession, the Lords of
the Vale follow them. They won't be joining the Starks in their rebellion.''

''And what does he ask in return?''

''Permission to marry Lady Lysa after the war, once Arryn dies of... unfortunate complications,
Your Grace.'' Lord Tywin said, and Jae could hear the pleasure in his voice. Whoever this Baelish
is, he's taken the gamble of a lifetime.
''Granted,'' Aegon replied without hesitation. He certainly has the stomach of a King. ''And the
Riverlands?''

''Prince Jaehaerys has made many friends over the years, Your Grace, which is why some have
decided not to cooperate with us against the Ironborn threat. Lord Motoon being foremost among
them. The boy is controlled by his mother.'' Lord Tywin explained.

He watched Aegon nod and look up at the ceiling in thought. When he regarded them next, Jae
knew he'd chosen a course of action. ''My decision is simple, my Lords. We have watched things
unfold from the capital for long enough. Lord Tywin,'' the strength of his command strong enough
to make even the Old Lion sit up to attention, ''You will go west and you will take charge of
defense against the Ironborn threat.''

''Your Grace, I've already sent Ser Kevan to attend to this—''

''The Riverlords have not accepted Lady Cersei's marriage to Ser Edmure for the protection of Ser
Kevan, capable as he might be. They've accepted it because of you. You shall go and you shall
remind the realm of the benefits of an alliance with the Crown. If the Ironborn should attack in the
Riverlands next, they shall be grateful for the marriage. If they shall attack in the Reach, they will
know why they've betrothed Lady Margaery to your grandson.'' Tywin went to speak up, but
Aegon beat him to it. ''Meanwhile, I will take the force of the Crownlands to launch an attack
against all those who defy our will in the Riverlands and bring them to their knees. Uncle, you shall
go to Dorne to marshall the dornish army.''

A moment of silence followed his pronouncement before his Council members nodded in
agreement. ''And what of Prince Jaehaerys, Your Grace? What is to become of him?'' Pycelle
asked. Yes, what is to become of me?

''Prince Jaehaerys is to remain in the capital,'' Aegon said, voice resolute.

''To leave the Prince here, alone, Your Grace?'' Pycellle pressed on. Tywin must've given him quite
the set of instructions. ''Who knows what he might do? It is unwise to underestimate that man,
Your Grace.''

''Which is why I shall name Lord Tyrion acting Hand. He's proven himself more than capable,
given that it was his idea to turn the Vale Lords, not to mention his plans for the Storm
Lords.'' What's that? Tell me more about the Storm Lords! ''I am sure he'll manage to control my
little brother.''

''You honor me, Your Grace.'' Lord Tyrion bowed his head in gratitude.

God, Aegon is even better than I thought. The move calmed Tywin because it kept Lannister's in
control of the capital but at the same time placed a very capable man in Jae's path. Lord Tyrion
presented quite the intellectual obstacle, everyone with a shred of common sense
agreed. Especially if he's the one who cooked up my Vale problem.

And who knows what Aegon might do with the opportunity that Lord Tywin's absence from the
capital would buy him. He's navigating these waters, he means to get out from under the yoke of all
of them. But he also gave Jae some space to maneuver. He silently thanked the Gods for Aegon's
common sense when crawling back to his chambers. Any other King would have executed him on
the spot and dealt with the consequences later. Such as the secession of the North. Aegon looked
resolved to retain the unity of the Seven Kingdoms and a good thing, too, since it kept Jae alive.

A day later, he stood in the courtyard of the Red Keep, watching as Aegon prepared to depart. Lord
Tywin had already left earlier in the morning. Prince Oberyn as well, but Aegon meant to have the
entire Court present to watch him gallantly ride off to war.

It all proved to be a popular decision, highlighted by the ever-growing number of nasty looks
aimed Jae's way. Aegon steadily built a picture of a noble King, riding out to rid the land of
traitors, while Jae came off as the scheming, back-stabbing younger brother who hid away in
King's Landing to plot his treason. Very good indeed.

Aegon said his goodbyes to the Royal family, dressed in magnificent black plate-armor, golden
dragons adorning his chest and his shoulders. He looks like those paintings of the Young
Dragon. Another canny move.

He stopped by Jae last. ''Keep watch over our city while I'm gone, won't you?'' Aegon asked.

''Of course, Your Grace,'' the two shook hands and Jae leaned closer, ''Don't get killed.''

Aegon huffed in laughter and nodded, walking away to mount his horse. Jae watched him ride out
of the Keep to the cheers of the nobles, the household guard following him. Part of the army of the
Crownlands had gathered outside the city while the majority of it would join the army while they
marched.

Jae knew the issue of the Kingsguard had been a matter of intense discussion on the Small Council.
They could not allow Kingsguard knights loyal to Jaehaerys to accompany Aegon on his campaign
but could not let him go without any Kingsguard knights either. They long represented a major
symbol of the Crown's power and legitimacy.

So they sent Prince Llewyn and the newly-appointed Kingsguards Ser Daemon Sand and Ser Balon
Swann with Aegon, while Ser Jaime, Ser Arthur, Ser Oswell, and Ser Barristan remained in the
capital. Why Jaime did not go with his father and what it meant about his loyalty Jae did not know,
though he expected to learn in due time.

Jae suspected Balon Swann's induction had something to do with the play Lord Tyrion meant to
execute in the Stormlands. The Swanns are the second most powerful House and long have they
lusted after Storm's End.

But Jae didn't know if they had the pull to bring other Houses to their side, to mount an effective
rebellion against the Baratheons.

''Your Grace,'' his thoughts were interrupted by the man who caused them, Lord Tyrion. ''Glorious
day, wouldn't you agree?''

''Indeed I would, my Lord Hand.'' Jae inclined his head. ''My compliments on your position.''

''Your Grace flatters me. I am but a lowly servant while the King and my Lord father are off to
war.'' Lord Tyrion said, those mismatched eyes observing Jae closely. For all the despisal and
revilement Lord Tyrion suffered from others, Jae's instincts screamed of a good man. There are
many good men and most of them seem intent on killing me.

''Regardless, I am certain you shall do a good job in their absence, my Lord Hand,'' Jae said.

He nodded. Clearly the time for compliments had come to an end. ''Will you walk with me, Your
Grace?'' Tyrion gestured towards the battlements.

''But of course.'' Together they climbed the stairs that led to the Red Keep's outer-most wall, the
city of King's Landing sprawling beneath. ''Tell me, Prince Jaehaerys, what is your opinion
regarding trial-by-combat?''

''The practice of whether or not Gods guide the hands of champions?'' Jae asked, very interested in
where the conversation led.

''The latter,''

Jae hummed, ''Well, I've had many fights with your noble brother and lost most of them. Somehow
I doubt the outcome would be any different if next time we fought the High Septon asked the
Warrior to guide my hand in my stead.''

Tyrion chuckled, nodding. ''Indeed, Your Grace. But do you believe combat to be a way of settling
matters?''

Ah, it dawned on Jae. Lord Tyrion referred to a notion Jaehaerys never particularly liked. Though
he had no small amount of confidence in his martial skills, he always considered himself a
politician first and a warrior second. It should come as no surprise then, that Jae did not favor the
idea of battle resolving all issues. That it does not matter who is right and who is wrong, only who
wins.

Goes against my very nature, thinking I should accept a lost battle as a sign of the Gods when I
know there are still so many moves I can make. His feeling mattered little, however. The Realm
subscribes to the notion and so he had no choice but to do the same, though many have come up
with reasons to ignore it over the years. The Blackfyres said Bloodravens black magic won the
battle, not the Gods disapproval of them. It's what allowed those bastards to mount five rebellions.

''I do, my Lord Hand. Why do you ask?''

''I know I don't have to tell you that the fortunes of your supporters have taken a downturn lately.''
Tyrion explained, ''And though this war looks to be going against you, I would not wish for you to
be executed should King Aegon's forces prevail. The damage done to the Crown's relations with
the North would become irreparable.''

Jae nodded, ''You're asking if I'll accept defeat, so you can ship me North without having to worry
about future rebellions.''

''I am, Your Grace.'' Are you so certain of victory, my Lord Hand? He could not blame him. For a
few moments after the devastating chain of bad news, he thought so himself. Before he
remembered a willingness to get your hands dirty can solve even the toughest problems.

''Do you believe your Father will allow that?''

''I believe... my Father won't be in a position to object, should such a situation arise.'' Lord Tyrion
looked up at him, his words holding a thousand interpretations. Did Aegon turn Tyrion? Are they
working together? How in the Seven Hells did he manage that?

Aegon's presumption of having what it takes to become a great King looked more plausible with
each passing day.

''I see,'' Jaehaerys nodded. ''But you need not worry about these matters, my Lord Hand.
Throughout history, such measures have been reserved for noble Ladies and I won't be so
uninvolved in this war that such an option will even be on the table by the time it ends, I assure
you.''

''Am I to become the latest victim of Prince Jaehaerys' famous wit?'' Lord Tyrion asked with a wry
smile.

Jae snorted, ''I am unaware of any such fame, my Lord Hand.''

''Ah, sometimes I forget you've spent your entire life in the Red Keep. You do not hear what they
say in the other Kingdoms.''

''I suppose you shall be the one to tell me?'' Jae asked, masking his question as a joke to hide his
honest curiosity.

''Not at all, though I applaud your attempt, Your Grace.'' They reached the end of the walkway and
Tyrion turned to him, bowed and walked away without another word. Jae watched him go with a
smile.

O-O-O

''I've developed a difficulty to perceive the benefits of your latest plot, Your Grace.'' Lady Olenna
said, even as she vowed Margaery's maidens cloak. They sat in Lady Olenna's chambers, the open
windows allowing the soft sea breeze to pass through, its scent temporarily overpowering the
abundance of flowers that graced Lady Olenna's chamber. Talking by candlelight as the city below
slept, Jae fought to attain one last ally. Our swords will do the talking from here on out.

''Oh? How so?'' Jae asked, glancing at Margaery who favored him with a demure smile. I'll have to
get her to work with me or at least learn to manage her.

''The war appears done, your cause lost. Why should we risk anything when we can accept
Margaery shall never be Queen. Lady of Casterly Rock is the second most powerful position for a
Lady to attain in all the land.'' Her thorny words forced him to find a defense.

''Truly? I was under the impression the Lady of Highgarden held that honor.'' Jae replied, eyeing
Lady Olenna with a sly look. Margaery giggled as though she found to be the most hilarious jape
she'd ever heard. Jae's glare shut her up. And there we go. He missed Arianne. He knew the two of
them could have come to an understanding, could have worked together. Might have even fallen in
love. He knew no such things when it came to Margaery.

''For all your witty repartee's, you cannot deny the truth of your situation,'' Olenna said.

''I do not. And I did not when my life was on the line a few days ago.'' Jae pointed out. It is always
good to have a track record.

''Surviving a trial and winning a war are two entirely different things.'' Jae wanted to point out Lady
Olenna forced him into their agreement when she agreed to Margaery's betrothal to Joffrey, but that
would show weakness. Lady Olenna would shrug and then actually marry her granddaughter to
that insufferable idiot.

''Are they? I see little difference and I assure you, my Lady; you saw me doomed once before only
for me to emerge victorious. The same shall happen again.'' Jae told her, looking her right in the
eye.

''Do I even want to know what you're planning this time?'' She asked with a raised eyebrow.

''You do not, my Lady.''

Olenna huffed, shaking her head. ''Surprisingly enough, I find that ominous declaration rather
comforting.'' She gave him an unimpressed look, ''But I am far from assured.''
Jae leaned back in his chair. ''I suppose you believed getting a Tyrell Queen would be the work of a
single afternoon? No wonder everyone's so willing to play second fiddle to Lord Tywin; it seems
he's the only one willing to risk war to attain his goals.''

''I am not a man, Your Grace, your pricks to my pride won't work.'' She warned him.

''Won't they?''

Both of them regarded him with smiles they could barely suppress. ''I do believe he's got you there,
Grandmother.''

''Will you enlighten me of your plans, then?'' Olenna asked, indirectly conceding defeat and
agreeing to support Jae.

Jae shook his head. ''In three days time, we shall be riding away from the capital. You shall know
all then.''

''I suppose I should trust you until then?''

''Have I not proven myself worthy of that trust?''

''You're not the first man I've met to have such confidence in his abilities, Your Grace.'' Said
Olenna. ''They all got stung in the end.''

''And I've already been stung. And I'm still here.'' Jae told her, his patience running thin. ''But let
me ask you this instead, my Lady; do you dare spurn me? Do you believe me to be in such an
inferior position that you think yourself safe in siding against me? Are you willing to live with the
consequences of becoming my enemy, whatever they might be?'' His charming smile left him.
Those amethyst eyes he'd inherited from his father, so bright and welcoming on most days, turned
dark and foreboding.

A silence descended on the room. Olenna stared right back at him, while Margaery's eyes jumped
between the two of them. ''Many emotions have I associated with you, Your Grace, but I must
admit, never have I been afraid of you before nor expected to be.''

''How do you imagine my other enemies feel when they think of me, then? What does Tywin
Lannister feel when he remembers I am waiting for him in the capital? And Lord Tully; do you
think he sleeps well at night, knowing he traded my friendship in exchange for the safety of his
people?'' Jae left his questions to hang in the air, ''I ask you, my Lady Olenna, if you fear me, who
doesn't?''

They engaged in a battle of wills, staring each other in the eyes, waiting to see who would look
away first. Jae won when Lady Olenna turned her eyes to her granddaughter and said, ''I better
leave you two alone. It's time you got to know your betrothed better, dear.''

''You must forgive my Grandmother, Your Grace,'' said Margaery after Lady Olenna left the
chambers. ''She is overly cautious at times.''

''You say that as if it's a bad thing,'' Jae replied, eager to go through the first battle of wits with his
soon-to-be wife.

''With all of the Reach behind you, Your Grace, who could possibly prevent you from sitting your
rightful Throne?'' She asked, even still playing the role of the innocent maid, throwing out
platitudes as though they were pieces of ageless wisdom. I have seen your true face Margaery!
Jae got up with a snort and walked to pour himself a cup of wine. He did not offer Margaery any. ''I
do wish you would stop saying such things, my Lady. It tells me you either take me to be a fool or
are a fool yourself.''

The surprise on her face showed she told what she believed to be the truth. ''But what do you mean,
Your Grace? The Reach's army is the largest in the Seven Kingdoms.''

Jae could almost see it. He sat back down in his chair, eyeing his betrothed. What did they say to
the little girl when she got scared at night? What did they say when she first learned the nature of
the world? ''Do no worry, my dear, you've got the biggest army in all of Westeros to protect you
from harm and none can defeat it.''

They should've told her she's always one wrong move away from death. It would have been far
kinder. Such thinking certainly helped me.

''How come the Reach does not rule these lands, then?'' He asked her, finding it instrumental that
he gets his point across. ''Why did the Gardners not subjugate the Stormlands and the Riverlands in
the Age of Heroes? Do you mean to tell me you are nothing but peaceful farmers with no
ambition?''

''No,'' she replied, her tone cutting. She's already adjusted. Good. ''But we aren't greedy, either.''

''Is it greed to pluck a grape from a vine?'' he asked, ''Judging by your confidence in the Reach's
martial superiority, subjugating the Stormlands would have been the work of a fortnight.''

She leaned back in her chair, eyeing him in silence. Another good sign. It would have been worse if
she'd replied just for the sake of saying something. '''What then?'' she asked, almost petulant for
having to admit her mistake. ''What decides a war?''

''Leaders,'' Jae replied. ''Ask Lord Tywin who he fears to face more on the field of battle, my Uncle
or your Father, and I assure you the answer will always be the same. Leaders decide these wars and
a good leader is worth thousands of men, my Lady.'' He took a sip of wine. ''And the Lords of the
Reach have long preferred feasting and drinking to ruling and leading. Too soft, every last one of
them.''

''My Father might not be the most capable of men when it comes to matters of war, but he has men
under him who are. Lord Tarly for example.'' She wouldn't give in, angry at his insult to her father.

''But Lord Tarly is not the Lord Paramount. He might be a terror on the battlefield, but much like
Lord Stannis, he inspires no loyalty. Men do not try to please him, for they know it to be
impossible. They only try not to displease him.'' He took a deep breath. ''Besides, you cannot
expect to have a united fighting force when men look to the subordinate for answers.''

''And the skills of our knights? Are they, too. to be considered irrelevant?'' She asked, properly
ticked off. I have to push her over the edge before I bring her into my arms.

''I see you have fallen for the magnificent displays of your brother much like all the other maidens
of the Realm,'' he chuckled, knowing it would only increase her irritation. ''While Ser Loras might
defeat me in the lists, my Lady, it would never come so far if I ever faced him in a real battle. I'd
put a dagger in the eye of his horse and kill him before he could recover. What good would his
superb horsemanship and dazzling swordplay do him then, I ask you?''

She stared at him in silence, much like her Grandmother did earlier. In the end, she got up from her
seat with an angry huff and moved to pour herself a cup of wine as well. Jae watched her over the
rim of his cup, hiding a small smile.

''For someone who's convinced my Grandmother of the benefits of siding with you, you seem
intent to make it seem as though we are destined to lose.'' She accused him. Back in the old days,
he'd be afraid to hear her declare her intentions so loudly. But Varys is no longer here and Lord
Tyrion has yet to attain little birds of his own.

''Oh, we will win, I am certain of that,'' he said, standing up and walking towards her. ''It is not the
war effort I am talking about.''

''What then?'' she asked, voice hesitant as he came to stand before her, having a hard time looking
up at him.

He put his finger under her chin and looked her right in the eye. ''I am talking about you and
whether you want to be merely the King's wife or the Queen.''

''Do you think me unworthy?'' she asked, sounding as though she gave voice to her worst fear.

''You are a rose. You act like a rose and you think like a rose. But I have no need for a rose. I need
a dragon and when you wed me, that is exactly what you shall become.'' He smiled down at her.
''Do you think you can do that?''

She nodded, her eyes jumping to his lips. Jae's smile widened and he leaned down to capture her
lips. There may be hope for me yet.
 Chapter 21

The clamor of clashing swords filled the courtyard. Jae, knowing he would have real need of them
soon enough, decided to polish his skills with a sword and reclaim the fitness he had lost by
negotiating all the hours of the day. And who better to help than Ser Arthur.

''Again, Your Grace.'' Ser Arthur demanded after putting Jae on his back once more. They were
close contests and often lengthy ones, but Jae had yet to win a match. A state of affairs that did not
sit well with him.

He jumped back to his feet, picked Dark Sister off the ground and resumed his fighting position.
Ser Arthur twirled Dawn in his hand, circling Jaehaerys like a vulture waiting for an opening. Jae
waited patiently, following his movements, his eyes glued to Ser Arthur's hips as Jaime taught him.

He saw the thrust coming before the milky white sword lashed out and easily deflected it to the
right. A downward swing followed and Jae deflected it to the left, seeing an opening to counter-
attack since Ser Arthur put too much weight behind his strike. Before he could capitalize on it,
however, Ser Arthur put his shoulder into his chest and had him staggering backward. ''Your
technique is flawless, Your Grace, your footwork immaculate.'' Ser Arthur growled as he came at
him, a quick combination buying him the chance to smack Jae right across the face. ''But this is not
a dance.''

Jae shook his head to clear the stars from his vision, tasting blood. Well, then... He launched
himself at Ser Arthur, unleashing a flurry of blows that forced Ser Arthur all the way across the
courtyard. When they ended up standing face to face, their legendary blades locked in a stalemate,
Jae planted his knee right in Ser Arthur's groin.

The knight groaned and doubled over, barely holding onto his blade. From the side, Ser Barristan
and Ser Oswell laughed at the unorthodox move which followed Ser Arthur's advice to the letter.

''You can only blame yourself for that one, Arthur!'' Ser Oswell called, earning an exasperated
laugh from the knight.

''I suppose I do,'' Ser Arthur nodded, smiling as he took off his helm, slowly straightening up and
limping to the edge to get some water.

''I do apologize, Ser Arthur.'' Jae hadn't felt so sheepish in a long time.

''That's quite alright, Your Grace. I do believe you've understood the lesson I tried to impart.'' Ser
Arthur said.

''He is right, Your Grace. None of us have any doubt of your ability to contend with any warrior in
the realm, but you must realize the messiness of battle. I have not a fought a duel worth mentioning
in all my life that did not include at least one dirty trick.'' Ser Barristan told him, the wisdom of
having fought half-a-hundred battles coming in handy.

''I shall have to make sure to remember that.'' Jae bowed his head in acceptance of his words. Ser
Oswell handed him a cup of water and Jae drank it down greedily, terribly parched after his long
spar with Ser Arthur.

He spared the last of it to splash his face and wiped it off on his tunic. That is when a servant girl
ran into the courtyard, heaving and panicked. ''Your Grace! Your Grace!'' she cried.
''What is it, girl?'' he asked. He knew her, one of his last loyal spies.

''It's the Imp, Your Grace, he's gonna have Lord Stannis executed!'' she said, eyes wide in fear of
his reaction.

Jae stared at her, then turned to look at his knights. Dark Sister slid in its sheats and he said, ''Come
with me.''

The three of them were hot on his heels as they walked to the Throne Room, bursting in right as Ser
Ilyn Payne bent Lord Stannis over a stump. ''What is the meaning of this?!'' Jae roared, glaring up
at the little man sitting on the Iron Throne. For a Lannister to even dare set his arse on it is too
much for me. That's the seat of the Conqueror!

''Ah, Prince Jaehaerys, nice of you to join us.'' Lord Tyrion said, struggling to maintain a smile.

''Care to explain why you mean to execute the bloody Lord Paramount of the Stormlands, my Lord
Hand?'' Jae demanded as he came to a stop before the Iron Throne. He looked at Ser Ilyn and said,
''Put that sword away before I shove it up your ass.''

The Royal Executioner gave him a dirty look but took a step back.

''He is guilty of treason, Your Grace.'' Lord Tyrion said, his voice irritatingly polite. ''Or, should I
say, his son is.''

''Ser Orys knows his father's life is forfeit if he should move against the Crown. What kind of
treason could he possibly commit?'' Jae asked. What did you fool him into doing, Lannister? Ser
Jaime, standing beside the Throne, shifted in his stance.

''The Crown ordered the forces of Houses Swann, Cafferen, Fell and Grandison to bolster the
garrison of Storm's End, Your Grace. We meant to ensure the security of the lands, but Ser Orys
refused them entry and chose to attack them instead.'' Lord Tyrion said, unleashing a flurry of
whispers among the courtiers.

''You mean to say, you tried to occupy Storm's End through trickery and deceit and forced violence
when Ser Orys would not submit, my Lord Hand?'' Jaehaerys growled, all the more ticked off
because he knew the narrative Lord Tyrion meant to spread. Even worse, it'll work.

''Your slanderous words wound me, Your Grace,'' Tyrion said, looking down at him. ''House
Baratheon has once more proven its treacherous nature. Ser Orys means to lead his people into
another bloody struggle even at the cost of his Father's head, that much is clear.''

''So throw Lord Stannis into the Black Cells.''

''The word of the Iron Throne must mean something, Your Grace. We must not appear weak before
such savage foes.'' The courtiers nodded in agreement at his words. ''The conditions of Ser Orys'
release were clear; Lord Stannis must die.'' He nodded to Ser Ilyn.

Jae's hand went to his sword, the Kingsguard behind him following his lead. Ser Jaime looked
from his brother to Jaehaerys, at a loss for what to do. The courtiers took a step back as one, fearful
of impending violence.

''I act with the authority granted to me by the King, Your Grace. Do you mean to tell me you
dispute it?'' Lord Tyrion asked, confident in the way only men with the upper hand can be.

Jae said nothing, staring up at the Imp, trying to work out how he can save Lord Stannis without
losing his head himself.

''Your Grace,'' Lord Stannis said, on his knees with two guards behind him, ready to force him
back over the stump at a moment's notice. ''Stand down, I beg of you.'' Stannis Baratheon,
beg? ''Do not waste your life for me. I knew this moment might come when I said goodbye to my
son. I've made my peace with it, knowing Orys will make sure these bastards will be soon in
arriving in the Seven Hells after me.'' And I expect you to help him, his eyes added.

Jae gritted his teeth; Lord Stannis gave him an excuse to back down but would it be the right
move? And better yet, could he allow such an important ally to die?

That's a boy's way of thinking, believing you can carve your way out of any problem. He took a
step back, his hand leaving the hilt of his sword. He nodded to Lord Stannis, knowing words would
mean nothing to a man such as him. Only actions, he knew. And I will send these bastards to the
Seven Hells.

''Ser Ilyn.'' Lord Tyrion said in a grim voice.

''I wish you good luck in the wars to come, Your Grace.'' Lord Stannis said as he lowered his head
on the stomp of his own volition. Jae stared at him. I will not look away. I will not. Ser Ilyn took
his position and with one quick swing, the head of Stannis Baratheon rolled on the floor of the
Throne Room.

Jae looked up at Lord Tyrion, hate burning in his eyes. You might become a victim, indeed, my
Lord Hand.

''Ah, I almost forgot,'' Grandmaester Pycelle spoke up, as though a man hadn't died and he referred
to the weather report. ''A raven came from Lord Tywin, my Lord Hand.''

Tyrion descended the stairs of the Throne and took it, breaking the seal in full view of the Court.
Jae did not see his face drain of blood, his eyes locked on the body of the Lord of Storm's End as
the guards dragged it away, leaving behind a trail of blood.

''When did this arrive?'' Lord Tyrion's eruption drew Jae's attention.

''Earlier this morning, my Lord,'' Pycelle replied, oblivious to Lord Tyrion's tone as he shuffled
back to his seat.

''And you only thought to give it to me now?!''

''Care to divulge what sort of news could provoke such a reaction, my Lord Hand,'' Jae asked, his
voice quiet.

Lord Tyrion looked up to find the eyes of the entire Court on him. He seemed to have forgotten
where he stood for a brief moment. Taking a deep breath, he said, ''Early yesterday morning, the
major part of the Ironborn fleet was trapped and destroyed in detail by the fleet of the Golden
Company of Essos. The battle took place near the Shield Islands and after their victory, the Golden
Company made landfall in the Reach, thus launching an invasion with the intent of conquering
Westeros and crowning Daemon IV Blackfyre.'' Tyrion read the letter.

The Court exploded in panic and fear. Ah, Varys, you fucking bastard, now your true colors have
come out at last.

''Furthermore, Ironborn forces under the command of Rodrik Greyjoy attacked and conquered
Seaguard. Lord Tywin marches to retake the castle.'' Lord Tyrion finished the letter.
''Lord Tarly,'' Lord Tyrion moved to regroup. Lord Tarly surged to his feet. ''I ask you take your
leave of the capital at once. Lord Tyrell shall have need of our Master of War if he is to repel this
latest threat.''

''At once, my Lord,'' Tarly said and strode out of the Throne Room. Sometimes bad rigging fucks
up your plans and sometimes your enemy sends you exactly where you want to go.

''No need for fear, my Lords and Ladies.'' Lord Tyrion moved to his next objective; prevent mass
panic. ''These foul traitors have long plagued our lands, it is true, but every time they have been
defeated. This time shall be no different, especially with the valiant knights of the Reach riding
against them.'' Jae wondered what Margaery would say once she learned since most of the Ladies
were not present for the execution.

''How could this have happened?'' Lord Rosby asked, ''How could we not see them coming?''

''We have no Master of Whisperers, as I'm sure you recall, my Lord,'' Jae said, his voice dripping
with venom. ''And even if we had, Lord Varys could've brought an entire Dothraki horde across the
Narrow Sea and we wouldn't know it until they were at our doorstep.''

''We do not know this to be the work of Lord Varys, Your Grace.'' Lord Tyrion replied, suddenly
on the backfoot.

''We do not?'' Jae asked, ''The entire continent embroiled in chaos, ripe for the taking? Now we see
the wisdom of your Lord Father, do we not, Lord Tyrion? And how come the Ironborn managed to
take Seaguard in the first place? I was under the impression Lord Tywin was sent to the Riverlands
for the exact purpose of preventing such an event.''

The Imp fidgeted as he said, ''My Lord Father received reports the Ironborn meant to launch
another attack in the West and marched to protect them.'' This time the exclamations from the
courtiers were ones of indignation. How quickly the weather turns.

Lord Tyrion lied, no doubt. Lord Tywin marched to protect the Westerlands because Lord Tywin
does not care one whit about any other kingdom and therein lies his one major failing as a
politician. He does not understand others care about their home as much as he cares about his.

''Fooled again, hm? It seems tricking your Lord Father has become the favorite pastime of all the
traitors in the Realm, my Lord Hand.'' Jae said, turned on his heel and marched out of the Throne
Room. He took the first empty chamber and closed the door behind after the three Kingsguard
knights entered. ''We move tonight. Make all necessary preparations, and inform Lady Olenna.''
The three nodded. ''I do not know Ser Jaime's loyalty and I don't have the time to find out, so you
shall do it the hard way.''

''And if he proves himself treacherous, Your Grace?'' Ser Oswell asked the question none of them
wanted to hear.

''Do not kill him, but make sure he doesn't get the chance to betray our intentions either.
Understood?''

''Aye, Your Grace.''

''Good. I shall meet you in the White Sword Tower at the stroke of midnight.'' They went their way
after that, the three of them not even bothering to demand one of them accompany Jaehaerys. They
know what comes next.

Jae returned to his chambers, pulled open one of the drawers of his desk and retrieved a small vial
from it. He looked down at the purple bottle and the deadly liquid within, then carefully placed it
in the breast pocket on the inside of his doublet.

It took him near an hour to crawl through the passageways, having gotten lost once. He hadn't
taken the route in years since he first explored the tunnels and ordered a builder he bribed to create
an additional tunnel for him.

The tunnel that ran directly beneath the Black Cells. Even as a thirteen-year-old, Jae knew he might
one day find himself a resident and so prepared for that eventuality. He did not take advantage of
the tunnel when saving Lord Stark and Lord Arryn the first time because it would have given away
its existence. Jae saved it in case he ever needed to use it. And now I do.

Lord Arryn appeared most surprised to see one of the stones on the floor of his cell dislodge of its
own volition. He looked positively flabbergasted when the Crown Prince of the Seven Kingdoms
poked his head through the hole left behind.

''Your Grace,'' he whispered, weak and worn. He had none of the strength and excitement he still
possessed when Jae broke him out for the first time.

''Lord Arryn,'' Jae nodded as he crawled to sit beside the Lord Paramount of the Vale.

''Wh—What has happened, Your Grace?'' He asked, his voice raspy and parched. Jae produced a
skin of wine and handed it to the old man. He felt a craving for wine just watching Lord Arryn
drink it with such zeal.

''Disaster, I am afraid. The Lords of the Vale have been fooled into siding with the Lannisters.'' The
old flame returned when Arryn looked him in the eye.

''What?'' he demanded.

''Quiet, my Lord,'' Jae warned, glancing at the door to the cell. ''Some fellow by the name of
Baelish has his claws in your Lady wife. Lord Tywin's declared you've confessed to having been
deceived by Lord Varys. Your wife confirmed you sent her a letter, ordering she not take my side
in the war. Ser Lyn Corbray claims to have been present for your confession and serves as a
witness for the Lannisters. All of it has proven enough for the Lannisters.''

And just like that, the flame disappeared, leaving behind a wrinkled old man, weary of life and all
its thrown at him over the years. ''Lysa... I cannot believe it. And Baelish... I should have- have
never trusted him.''

No, you truly shouldn't have. But Jae had no foul feelings for this old man. He rather admired him,
in fact. He'd lived his entire life by his code of honor and somehow managed to see near eighty
namedays. A bloody miracle, if you ask me.

When he looked at Jae next, he said, ''This is no rescue attempt, is it, Your Grace?''

''No,'' Jae said, producing the vial from his pocket. ''Lord Tyrion has the exits from the secret
passageways guarded far too well and guards to check your cell every hour. Besides, even if you
made it to the Vale, Baelish would never give you a chance to speak, if anything I've learned of
him is true.''

''Do not feel remorse over me, my boy. I am an old man and you've given me a chance at mercy.''
He heard the sorrow in Jae's voice. I do wish I didn't have to. He looked down at the vial. ''Will it
hurt?''
''No, my Lord, tomorrow afternoon you will fall into a peaceful slumber. That will be all.'' Jae told
him.

He nodded, reaching for the vial. ''What of the Vale?'' he suddenly remembered the one thing that
kept him alive this entire time. ''What of my wife?''

''In three days' time, a rider will be found wandering through the lands of Lord Royce, apparently
lost,'' Jae spoke, voice soft. ''When he's taken in for questioning, he will do his utmost to stop Lord
Royce's men from searching his belongings. When they inevitably do, they will find a letter on him
bearing the seal of the Hand of the King, meant for Lord Baelish. The latter will explain your
poisoning by the Lannisters to ensure the truth of their deceit is never revealed, as well as
permission for him to marry Lady Lysa after the war's end.'' Jae explained his plan carefully. He'd
gotten the idea for it from Connington.

''This man bearing the letter, you know Lord Royce will execute him?'' Lord Arryn asked.

''I do, my Lord.''

''And you trust him all the same?''

''He is terminally ill, my Lord. He has but a few moons to live. I've arranged to take care of his wife
and children in exchange for this final service.'' Jae told him.

Arryn nodded, watching Jae in admiration. ''And so even my death shall serve to bring my enemies
low.'' He uncapped the bottle. ''No Lord could ever ask for more.'' And drank it, down to the last
drop. ''And I thank you for it, my King. You've done me a great service, but I fear I have something
to ask of you still.''

''It is I who owe you, my Lord,'' Jae said, his voice nearly breaking. ''Name it, and it is yours.''

''When it is all over and all your enemies are broken or buried, take Alys' boy and give him my
name. He has little Arryn blood, to be sure, but enough to be granted that right.'' He grabbed Jae by
the forearm, his grip deceptively strong. ''Let a true Arryn sit in the Eyrie once more, Your Grace.''

Jae patted his hand gently, saying, ''Arrangements are already being made, my Lord. There shall
always be an Arryn in the Vale, you need not worry about that.''

Arryn sighed in relief, leaning back against the wall. ''Thank you, my boy. Thank you very much.''

''Rest now, my Lord,'' he whispered, ''Your watch has come to an end. I shall look over your family
from now and ensure they are looked after, always.''

Arryn smiled a tired smile. He patted Jae's cheek. ''You're a good boy. Eddard will be proud of
you.'' Uncle can never know about this.

He nodded and said, ''Goodbye, my Lord. May the Seven Heavens accept you in their embrace for
all the good you've done.''

And so Jaehaerys left the Old Falcon behind and crawled off to war, with tears streaming down his
face.
 Chapter 22

''Yes—Yes, Your Grace. Just like that. Just like that.'' Margaery moaned as Jae fucked her, nearing
his climax. Her nails scratching his back, legs wrapped tightly around him, it pushed him over the
edge and he came with a groan, filling her womb with his seed. Margaery orgasmed right after him,
screaming out in pleasure as a climax rocked her body.

Or so she led him to believe. If a woman's lucid enough to call you by your proper title during sex,
you're really not as good as you'd like to believe, Jae thought as he rolled off of her, staring up at
the canopy of their bed.

They'd been given the Lord's chamber of Cider Hall by its Master, Lord Tanton Fossoway. A week
had passed since their almost-perfect escape from King's Landing and Margaery, for one, seemed
eager to take advantage of their new-found marital status.

Or to wrap me around her finger with sex now that she's given up on her charms, he thought as
Margaery took him in her mouth and licked his cock clean. She crawled up to him and laid her
head on his chest.

''That was amazing, my love,'' she murmured.

Jae hummed in agreement, his mind already far away. He slipped out of bed and walked naked to
the setee to dress. Margaery, still lying in bed, said, ''Come back, Jaehaerys, it's too early to wage a
war.''

Jae looked back at her as he dressed. Margaery let the blanket cover just enough of her to hint at
the glory beneath, her ruffled hair only adding to the flavor. Whatever could be said about her
intentions, Jae couldn't deny she looked stunning. He chuckled and said, ''War waits for no man,
my Queen.'' He said as he put on his doublet and fastened his swordbelt.

''Make sure to show your face to the army today,'' he said before he left his chambers. Ser Arthur
and Ser Barristan waited outside and both nodded when he emerged from his chambers.

''Your Grace,'' Ser Arthur said, ''Lord Fossoway has asked for the honor of your presence in his
study. He's received news.''

Jae nodded and decided to postpone his breakfast. He couldn't risk being uninformed. Not around
these Reacher Lords. Though some of them lived up to the codes of chivalry they all so
passionately espoused, most of them did not. Power-hungry vultures with delusions of grandeur.

Aegon the Conqueror's cunning political ploy was coming to bite him in the arse. Every Lord he'd
met so far held himself as if he deserved to be the Lord Paramount of the Reach. It made for
objectionable men; arguing against plans not because they thought them misguided, but because
they themselves did not propose them.

When's the last time the Reach scored a great military victory against another Kingdom? From
what Jaehaerys could remember of his histories, the Lords of the Reach knew best how to fight
each other and no one else.

It didn't take them long to reach Lord Tanton's chamber, Cider Hall being a small castle, though
lavishly decorated. Statues and paintings littered the hallways, depicting the long and glorious
history of the House.
The two guards standing in front of the study both bowed and opened the door for him to enter
when he approached. Stepping inside, he found Lord Fossoway's small study fit to bursting with
the nobility of the Reach.

Lord Tarly stood at the head of the table, Merryweather by his side. Lords Fossoway, Caswell,
Ashford, and Meadows stood around the table, various knights in service to them standing behind
them. They joined his growing army in the past week, eager to get a taste of battle. Lady Olenna
sat alone in the corner, tapping her cane on the floor. They all bowed when he entered, murmuring,
''Your Grace.''

''I've been told we've received some news, my Lords?'' Jae asked as he walked to the front of the
table and took his place between Tarly and Merryweather.

''Aye, Your Grace. Lord Tyrell sent a raven from Highgarden.'' Lord Merryweather said, voice
hesitant and worried.

''And?'' Jae asked, ''What does it say?''

When Merryweather bit his tongue one too many times, Tarly took over, shooting the man a
derisive look. ''It says that the Florents and the Oakhearts joined forces with the Golden Company
at the mouth of the Mander. Their combined force should number some twenty-five thousand men
now.''

Varys, he growled internally, knowing better than to show his surprise. They all watched him,
waiting for any sign of weakness. Only he and the Tyrell's were on the chopping block if all went
wrong; Aegon would pardon the rest, and they all knew it.

But the move did catch him off-guard. He should have known Varys would make sure the Golden
Compan enjoyed a soft landing in Westeros. This offers them legitimacy, this makes them a true
threat. It would save them an untold amount of logistical problems. So much for having a hard
time supplying their army.

Jae's advantage vanished. The Golden Company consisted of seasoned warriors. Jae's army
consisted of strutting knights and peasants who have never held a sword in their lives. If he had far
greater numbers, it might've been enough. Now I don't even have that.

He never expected to command the full might of the Reach, at least not when dealing with
Blackfyre. The Reach may boast a massive army, but it takes time to gather it. The fifteen
thousand men he had at his disposal all came from nearby fiefdoms like Bitterbridge, Ashford,
Cider Hall, and Grassy Vale.

The Hightowers and the rest of the Houses from the southernmost parts of the Reach wouldn't
arrive in time. Lord Rowan and his armies of the northern marches were also questionable. It's a
miracle Lord Tarly's men will be arriving in two days as it is.

That would bring his army up to some twenty-five thousand men and, if Lord Tyrell managed to
gather the men under the direct vassalage of Highgarden, he would have around thirty thousand. Is
it enough? He couldn't know. He had wanted to bloody his troops before provoking a full-scale
engagement with Blackfyre, but now he doubted he'll get the chance.

''Do we know why these two Houses have turned their cloaks?'' Jae asked to buy himself time to
think. Can't be seen stuttering.

''Lord Alester Florent and his son and Heir died a few moons back,'' Olenna piped up from her seat
in the corner, ''Murdered by pirates on their way back from Essos. His brother Axel is a far
different man.''

Varys again. ''And the Oakhearts?''

Olenna shrugged. ''Lady Oakheart is a tiny, delicate woman. It appears that hot-headed son of hers
got tired of listening to her advice.''

''They'll move against Highgarden next,'' Lord Caswell said with certainty.

''That would be a fool's choice,'' Lord Tarly shot him down. ''His Grace is the true threat. If I were
in their position, I'd move against us with all speed before we gather the rest of our army.''

Jae had to agree with Lord Tarly's assessment, though he did not know what his counter-move
should be. Rush straight at them, surprise them with our aggression? Maneuver across the
countryside to buy time and a chance to pick a battlefield of our choosing?

One important question loomed above all others, however; how much should he tell these Lords?
He had no doubt there were spies in the Keep, itching to learn anything they could of the army's
movements so they might report them to Varys. Unless I go straight at them. Then there'll be no
need for deception.

''But they can't leave Highgarden and Lord Tyrell at their back. They have to defeat his force or
wait for us to come to them.'' Lord Fossoway said. Jae got a chance to speak to the man over the
previous couple of days and found he liked him. Lord Tanton considered war to be the greatest
game of the Gods; daring and brave, never daunted throughout the ups and downs while enjoying
every moment of it. To Jae, he represented the knight of the Reach the stories promised.

''They'll want to defeat Lord Tyrell. They have the greater numbers and it would do wonders to
convince the rest of the Lords of the Realm that they are a legitimate force.'' Lord Ashford nodded,
his jowls jiggling.

''They'd be smarter to swing to the north, force more Houses to join them and grow their army.''
Lord Meadows disagreed. The discussion dissolved into an argument, with each Lord and knight
proposing another plan, each more daring and bold than the last.

What to do? What to do? He did not know the lay of the land. Since he'd set out of King's Landing,
he'd dreamed of out-maneuvering the Golden Company. If only he could find a battlefield where
he'd hold all the advantages, his victory would be all but certain. This Daemon Blackfyre can't
retreat, can't allow himself to retreat. Invaders cannot be seen retreating, makes them look weak.

The boy would have to force a battle and end up annihilated. Florents and Oakhearts joining him
might be a blessing in disguise. The Golden Company on its own represented a cohesive fighting
force. If Jaehaerys had to play his politics to keep his Lords in line, then Daemon's bound to have
the same problems. Is he a politician? Or just another warrior?

''Enough,'' he said and the bickering came to an end. ''At this moment we can do nothing. We must
wait for the forces of House Tarly to arrive. Until then, send a raven to Lord Tyrell and tell him to
remain in Highgarden. The Pretender will not able to besiege it nor move past it to attack us, thus
having to stay right where he is. Either that, or he must swing south or north. All of which buys us
time to gather our entire army.''

They wanted to argue, the obnoxious bastards (Lord Caswell being the worst of them all), pissed
he hadn't taken their plans into account. They held back when Lord Tarly nodded in approval.''A
sound plan, Your Grace, and the best thing we can do at the moment.''

''Very well, then. You are all to focus on the training of your men until we move out again.
Dismissed.'' He commanded and they all bowed and left the chambers until only he and Lady
Olenna remained. He watched them go, knowing he couldn't hide behind Lord Tarly's military
reputation for long. I have to get them on my side, have them see I am their best chance at
achieving their goals.

''What of Lord Tywin and Aegon?'' he asked. Lady Olenna served as his unofficial Master of
Whisperers, though neither one of them acknowledged it.

''They've found themselves in quite the quandary. Word of your escape and Lord Arryn's heinous
murder at the hands of the Lannisters has spread throughout the Kingdoms.'' She said, fiddling with
her cane. ''The Lords of the Vale threw Lady Arryn and that Baelish fellow out the Moon Door and
are marshaling their forces for the invasion of the Riverlands. And the news from the North claim
Lord Stark's won a great victory against the Wildlings.''

''You seem displeased,'' Jae observed.

Olenna gave him cut-the-horseshit type of look. ''It will be moons before Stark can invade the
south. Tywin may leave you alone to deal with Blackfyre, but the Arryn's alone cannot stand
against the might of the Crownlands, the West and the Riverlands. And you've got to kill twenty
thousand men before you can move to help them, so do not act as though I'm supposed to rejoice at
your great success.''

Jae had no intention of defending himself. He had to project confidence. She has to wonder what I
have up my sleeve next. ''And the Stormlands?''

''Gearing up for civil war,'' Olenna said, ''Prince Oberyn is marching up the Prince's Pass to add to
Lord Orys' problems.''

Outmatched on every front. He had to win in the Reach and he had to win quickly. ''It seems we've
got ourselves a proper war, no?''

''Amusing, Your Grace.'' Olenna rolled her eyes, ''I suggest you start winning it.''

''Indeed,'' Jae agreed, his growling stomach reminding him he should get something to eat. ''If
you'll excuse me, my Lady, I'm going down for breakfast.''

He left the study and walked downstairs to the Great Hall. The castle buzzed with activity as did
the surrounding lands. Tents as far as the eye can see, all in the land prepared for a great war.
Hedge knights poured into the camps to offer their services, eager to prove their worth. Boys no
older than eleven name-days watched Jaehaerys pass with stars in their eyes, dreaming of fame and
fortune. I'll have to go out among the men today, I have to gauge their mood.

He didn't know these people, didn't know what made them tick. He'd never been outside of King's
Landing before his escape a week ago. He'd battled his entire life to make sure they'd live a
peaceful life but didn't know the first thing about them beyond what he read in books. They have to
get to know me as well. The people of the Reach love their tales of gallant Kings and brave
warriors.

Well, that and Dorne. Perhaps I should stir some of those old hatreds. He remembered Aegon and
his unwillingness to send Jae to the chopping block. I'm supposed to be thinking towards uniting
the Realm as well.
The occupants of the Great Hall jumped to their feet when he entered. ''Please, please, return to
your meals.'' He said, gesturing for them to sit down.

He made his way to the dais where Margaery waited, a light breakfast in front of her. He took a
seat beside her and ordered a servant to get him some eggs and bacon.

''I trust the news was welcome?'' Margaery asked as she took a sip of orange juice.

''Not entirely, but nothing we can't deal with, my love.'' He said, giving her a kind smile. Let them
think we are madly in love.

He saw Lord Caswell enter the Hall and said, ''Lord Caswell, would you grant us the pleasure of
your company?''

Lord Caswell bowed, ''It would be my honor, Your Grace.'' He said, shooting Meadows a smug
look. It's funny how the petty problems of petty men are the hardest to solve. He's going to be
pissed when Meadow's sitting next to me at evening's feast.

Olenna told him all about the grudge between the Meadows' and the Caswell's, stemming from
Meadows' refusal to marry his son and Heir to Caswell's eldest daughter. Only seeing Meadows
humiliated will satisfy him and it is something I cannot give.

Jae had to figure it out. The unity of an army is a vital aspect of warfare. His commanders had to
focus on defeating the enemy instead of killing each other. And I have to get them there. Only then
will this become my army.

Lord Caswell took his seat next Jaehaerys, saying, ''I must say, Your Grace, you look radiant this
morning.''

Margaery smiled, innocent and true. ''You are most kind, my Lord. My brother Loras tells me your
son is quite the jouster, he said he hasn't faced one like him in a long time.'' Very good, my dear,
I've just remembered why I married you.

Lord Caswell swelled with pride, nodding in agreement. ''Aye, Your Grace, he's become a
formidable warrior.''

''This I must see,'' Jaehaerys added in, ''Perhaps your son will grant me the chance to test my sword-
arm against his.''

''It would be our honor, Your Grace,'' Caswell said, his smile wide, the flattery working
wonders. Now we must turn a corner.

''We shall have a great need of men of such caliber soon enough, my Lord,'' Jae said, starting off
slowly.

''You can count on us, Your Grace. We shall stand behind you.''

I know, my Lord, it's what you mean to do there I'm worried about. Jae looked him right in the eye.
Caswell found it so disconcerting he stopped gorging on a loaf of bread to give Jae his full
attention. ''And I cannot thank you enough for it. We shall have to properly reward such loyal men
after the war. Land, titles, and so on. I hear your son is already betrothed but perhaps we may still
arrange an advantageous match for your daughters, hm?''

''Oh, a lovely idea, my love,'' Margaery exclaimed, having cottoned onto his plan. ''In fact, I do
believe Lord Rowan's son has had his betrothal annulled recently. Who better to fill that role than a
daughter of a House as distinguished as yours?''

Caswell appeared on the verge of a fainting spell. ''Do you—Do you believe he will agree to it,
Your Graces?''

Margaery's idea had merit. Lord Rowan served as the Guardian of the Northern Marches, a
powerful position in the Reach. Only the Hightowers and the Redwyne's eclipsed his power.
Caswell, on the other hand, stood at the back of the room when the Major Lords of the Reach were
put in a pecking order. A man who could never threaten Lord Rowan, could never make him worry
about his influence. Rowan cannot hope to find a better match. ''I'm sure he'd agree with our
assessment if we were to suggest it.'' He gave Caswell a meaningful look.

''Thank you, Your Grace, thank you. You shall find no more leal servant in all the Realm than I,
this I swear.'' He said, drawing the Seven-Pointed Star in the air. And the opening engagement is
concluded. Next time I have to convince him to do as he's bloody told.

''We are heartened by your loyalty, my Lord,'' Margaery said, ''It is because of men like you that
we shall win this war.''

Caswell nodded, already back to stuffing his face with ham. It did not take him long to excuse
himself. No doubt he wants to run and tell everyone.

''Well done,'' Jaehaerys said, his voice quiet. He gave her hand a light squeeze.

''Rowan will go for it, too. His Heir's supposed to be an idiot. He lives in fear of having his son
controlled by another House if anything should happen to him.'' Margaery explained, taking a
ludicrously small bite of bread.

''It'll be winter by the time you're full if you keep eating like that,'' he couldn't help but quip.

Margaery gave him an exasperated look. ''Being a symbol of virtue and elegance is hard work, you
know.''

''I should hope so,'' he grinned, ''Can't have you enjoying yourself while I'm off fighting wars.''

''How selfish of you, husband.'' She pouted, but her eyes sparkled. Jae had no idea if she acted for
the benefit or the men present or if she truly meant it. Then again, I'm not sure about myself either.

''I shall have to make up for it somehow,'' he said, leaned in and kissed her. ''Enjoy the rest of your
breakfast, darling.''

He got up from his seat and walked out of the Great Hall, his knights behind him, waiting for Ser
Jaime to make a jape about love-struck puppies or somesuch. But Jaime isn't here. The reminder
left a foul aftertaste in his mouth.

Men bowed left and right as he walked across the courtyard. He made sure to nod back in respect,
cursing Tyrion Lannister the entire time. Tyrion knew there would be no pardon for him after the
war if he executed Stannis. Knew Ser Jaime would never side with me if it meant seeing his little
brother die.

Jae did not blame Ser Jaime for it. He abandoned Jaehaerys for his brother, for his family. But I
always thought he'd be at my side if I went off to war. Another consequence of his failure during
the Council; he lost his best friend.

That's what civil war is; friends killing friends, brothers fighting brothers. Whoever ends up
winning this war, I doubt they'll be feeling very victorious.

''Your Grace, if I may ask, where are you going?'' Ser Barristan asked as they approached the gates
of the castle.

''Into the camps, it's time I talked to the men who'll be fighting for me.''

''Your Grace, I must insist, it is not safe. The Blackfyres might've sent a catspaw to make an
attempt on your life.'' Ser Barristan stressed.

''That's why I have two legendary knights at my back.'' Jae replied, ''Besides if I can't walk among
my own men, I'll be in a world of trouble once the fighting starts.'' He walked on without looking
back, right into the organized chaos that is a military camp.

When he first arrived, a pristine meadow graced the land outside the castle walls. Fifteen thousand
men had turned it into a mud-bath, his booth squishing as he walked. Squires ran up and down,
fetching water and food for their knights. Whores crept in and out of tents, while men-at-arms sat
around small tables, drinking and laughing, boasting of all they would achieve in the coming
battles, only to be out-done in their bragging by their comrades. Not unlike some Lords I know.

Jaehaerys walked slowly through the camps, taking it all in. The faces of the men, their laughter
and good cheer. A healthy army. We'll see what they look like after the first forced march.

He saw two men sparring in between tents and quietly approached. Both were novices in matters of
swordplay, that much was clear, but their height and strength might offset the shortcomings of their
technique.

''Roll your hips,'' he called when he saw one of them did not put their weight behind his swing.

The men paused mid-fight. The stronger of them turned around, about to curse the man who
presumed to give him advice, when his eyes fell on the white knights at Jae's back. They fell to
their knees without further ado.

''Come, come, get up,'' Jae said as approached.

''Your Grace,'' they murmured.

''What's your name, good man?'' he asked.

''Meryl, Your Grace.'' The taller one said.

''And yours?''

''Jayson, Your Grace.'' The second replied, his head bowed.

''Roll your hips when you swing, Jayson. There's no point in being so strong if you're not going to
put your weight behind it. Isn't that so, Ser Arthur?'' Jae quipped, hoping to lighten the mood while
calling to attention the presence of a legend.

''Indeed, Your Grace.'' Ser Arthur said, taking off his helm. Unearthed your inner politician, have
you, Ser?

Jayson smiled as he nodded, his eyes wide and full of awe.

''Now, do it again, and this time lead with your hips,'' Jae instructed. Jayson nodded, picked his
sword off the ground and faced Meryl again.
Where before the fight went against him because of Meryl's height, Jayson had him staggering
backward on the second go-around.

''There you go,'' Jae nodded approval, Ser Barristan and Ser Arthur mimicking him. ''And you,
Meryl. You must set your feet like this,'' he showed the proper stance, ''It will make it much easier
to fend off Jayson's strikes.''

''Yes, Your Grace. Thank you, Your Grace.'' Meryl grinned. Jae noticed a crowd had begun to form
around them, drawn by the spectacle.

''In fact,'' he got an idea, ''Perhaps you should see a demonstration. Ser Barristan, Ser Arthur, would
you mind?''

''One of us must remain on guard, Your Grace.'' Ser Barristan murmured.

Jae grinned. ''Well, Ser Arthur, I suppose you shall have to contend me with me, then.'' Dark Sister
sang as it slid out of its sheath. Ser Arthur followed it up by exposing Dawn to the crowd.
The ooh's and aah's of the men were music to his ears.

Jaehaerys took his position, and the dance began.

 Chapter 23

''A brilliant move, I must say, Your Grace,'' Lord Tanton commented during the evening's feast two
days later. It's a good move, but I suppose I should forgive him for exaggerating. ''With Lord
Rowan marching south, the Pretender will have no choice but to swing south himself.'' He gave
Jaehaerys a wry look. ''I suppose Your Grace and Lord Tarly have chosen the field of battle?''

''Lord Tarly has pointed out a few options, yes,'' Jae replied, mindful of all the people listening in.
He and Lord Tarly along with Ser Barristan and Ser Arthur spent their nights locked away in Lord
Fossoway's study, discussing and debating every possible course of action. After Lord Tarly's army
arrived in the early afternoon, and Lord Tyrell reported that Blackfyre remained in place, they'd
come to a decision. ''He is most eager to lure the Pretender onto his home turf.''

''I should imagine so,'' Lord Tanton nodded, ''Lord Tarly is a great warrior in any setting, but Seven
help the man who faces him on familiar ground.''

Jae nodded in agreement, pride blossoming in his chest at the memory. I do believe I've won the
respect of that rigid man.

Below the dais, the knights and the Lords eat and drank to their heart's content, knowing they
might never get another chance. No one said it out loud, though. They groped the servant-girls
pouring them ale and played dice with their comrades. Every once in a while, a knight would get
up and toast Jaehaerys or mock the Blackfyre Pretender. Lord Fossoway's younger brother, Ser
Bryan, climbed onto the tables at one point and promised to slay Daemon in single-combat.

Who cares if they're idiots as long as they're my idiots. In the past two days, Lord Caswell changed
his tune, supporting every one of Jae's proposals. That made Lord Meadows wary, worried his rival
had won favor from the King, which made him a very pliant. Merryweather on his own couldn't
stir up trouble and so kept his mouth shut for the most part.

Jaehaerys knew better than to feel confident about his little success. The Hightowers, the Rowans
and the Redwyne's had yet to join his army. And they'll be much harder to deal with. Gaining the
complete support of the Hightowers and the Rowans would be essential, otherwise Redwyne was
bound to cause trouble.

He'd joined Lord Tarly's party in leaving the Red Keep, had ridden on to the Arbor when they
reached Cider Hall, promising to return with his entire army at his back. I'll believe it when I see it.

The Hightowers, with their peaceful ways, also inspired little confidence as allies. Fuckers declare
neutrality whenever they get the chance. No, they would stir when he defeated Daemon, fearing
the consequences of staying out of the war entirely. The thirty thousand men at his disposal had to
be enough until then.

''Do you believe the Pretender will try to find you on the battlefield?'' Lord Tanton asked as he
skewered a piece of lamb.

''If he gets the chance, I'm sure he will. It's been a while since Blackfyre and Dark Sister kissed.''
Jae forced a smile at the prospect, though in truth he did not intend to gamble the future of the
realm on the outcome of a duel.

''Since the Redgrass Field, no? Perhaps the time has come for Blackfyre to return to its rightful
owner.'' Lord Tanton said, toasting Jaehaerys.
''What do you mean?'' Ser Loras asked from Jae's left, ''I thought Bittersteel and Bloodraven dueled
again during the Third Blackfyre Rebellion.''

''They did,'' Jae nodded, ''But Bittersteel wasn't wielding Blackfyre that time. Haegon hadn't been
killed yet.'' Ser Loras joined them on the dais, to spend his evening with his sister, as he would
become a sworn member of the Kingsguard the following morning.

A white brother from the Reach to add to my collection. Ser Oswell, Ser Barristan and Ser Arthur
covered the Riverlands, the Stormlands and Dorne. I have to find someone from the Vale and the
North next. He held onto hope that searching for a knight of the Westerlands wouldn't be
necessary. Maybe Ser Jaime will be willing to continue in my service. Jaehaerys doubted it; Ser
Jaime had no intention of outliving his family.

''But that first duel must've been something to see,'' Ser Loras said, staring into the middle-
distance. He's already picturing himself as one of those legends. It'll be a shame if Margaery loses
her brother.

''Second only to Daemon Blackfyre's duel with Ser Gwayne Corbray, I've heard it said.'' Lord
Fossoway agreed.

''No need to rush, Ser Loras, there'll be plenty of fighting to be had soon enough,'' Jaehaerys tried to
temper the eager young pup. He's older than me, so why do I look upon him as if he were a boy?

Ser Loras bowed his head in acquiescence; Jae's words clearly did not make a dent. Not that he
worried too much. It takes time for a young warrior to learn patience, he'd always been told. The
cocksure and the arrogant are usually the first to go, but Ser Loras' skill with a sword may keep
him alive long enough to see the error of his ways.

''Perhaps it's time for us to retire for the night, my Love,'' Margaery said from his side, eyes full of
promise and lust. An animal woke in his chest. No harm in indulging on the night before the war.

''You're quite right, darling.'' He said, taking her by the hand and standing up from his seat. ''I bid
you good night, my Lords and valiant knights.'' He addressed the assembled crowd. ''Tomorrow we
set forth to glory!''

The men roared in response, raising their cups in a toast.

The two of them retreated to their chambers. Margaery had a hard time keeping his hands off of
him, discreetly rubbing his cock through his pants so the Kingsguards wouldn't see. By the time he
had her alone in his chambers, he was raring to go; Margaery squealed when he ripped the dress off
her body and threw her onto the bed, diving right into her folds.

A light mist hung over the camp-site in the early morning hours. The army gathered to watch Ser
Loras take his oaths as a knight of the Kingsguard. They stood in a wide circle, Jaehaerys standing
in the middle of it with only Ser Arthur, Ser Barristan and Ser Oswell at his side.

The grey skies made for a gloomy atmosphere, and though thousands of men stood watching,
Jaehaerys could hear the birds singing in the trees nearby. Time for one last bit of theater before
the fight.

''Kneel,'' Jaehaerys ordered and Ser Loras went down on one knee before him, resplendent in his
new white armor. ''Ser Loras of House Tyrell, why have you come to stand before us today?''

''To become a member of your Kingsguard, Your Grace, to swear my life in your service.'' Ser
Loras said, his strong voice carrying for all to hear.
In his white plate-armor, with ruby red dragons adorning his chest, Jae knew he looked imposing
staring down the young Knight of Flowers. He nodded to Ser Barristan, his new Lord Commander,
who stepped forth. ''Do you swear that you shall take no wife, hold no lands, father no children?''

''I do,''

''Do you swear that you shall guard the King's life, protect his secrets and give your life for his if
need be?''

''I do,''

''Are you true in your vows, Ser Loras of House Tyrell?'' Ser Barristan asked, his voice stern and
strong.

''I am.''

Ser Barristan turned to Jaehaerys. ''Your Grace, Ser Loras has been judged and tested. He has
proven himself worthy of the honor, and you shall find no finer warrior in all the land. I humbly
recommend he take his place as a brother of the Kingsguard.''

''I thank you, Ser Barristan,'' Jae nodded and his hand went to the hilt of Dark Sister. He drew the
blade and held it high in the air for all to see. He lowered it down to Ser Loras' right shoulder then
his left. ''I bid you rise, Ser Loras Tyrell, a knight of the Kingsguard.'' Ser Arthur stepped forth with
a white cloak he carefully placed upon his shoulders.

As Ser Loras got to his feet, a massive cheer erupted from the men watching, all of them shouting
their names.

''Now, men, it is time to march forth to victory!'' Jaehaerys shouted, earning another roar of
approval. A boy who'd been chosen to be his squire, Lord Fossway's son and Heir Lucas, came
forth leading Jae's mighty black warhorse. Jaehaerys mounted it, his Kingsguards right behind him.
The men around the circle had been divided into groups and like a coiled snake, they slowly
stretched into a line of march, headed straight for Daemon Blackfyre and his men.

Margaery stood atop the battlements with Lady Olenna and the rest of the Ladies present, waving
to the soldiers as they passed. Jaehaerys smiled at his cold-blooded wife, recalling the marked
difference between his farewell to her and his farewell to Daenerys.

''You're all that's left of me if all should go wrong, you hear me,'' Jaehaerys said as Dany wept into
his chest.

''It won't, it won't,'' she kept repeating.

''It might,'' Jaehaerys allowed, ''But that does not mean you have to give up. You must continue my
work.''

''I can't, Jaehaerys,'' she said, looking up at him with eyes full of tears, ''They'll just marry me off. I
won't get the chance.''

''Are you some foolish little girl, hm? To be sold off like some broodmare?'' Jae asked, his harsh
voice making her pull back. ''After this day, you are no longer Dany. You are Princess Daenerys
Targaryen, a dragon. If they try to make you marry some fool, then kill him, or control him or do
one of a thousand options at your disposal. If there's anything I've shown, it's that you're never out
of options. Do you understand me?'' he stressed.
She wiped her eyes, nodding at his words. She had never seen him like this, felt weak to have
provoked it. ''Fight, Dany, fight for something better if I don't have the chance.'' He continued in a
kinder voice. ''If anybody can do it, it's you.''

They stood in silence for a few moments before she threw herself at him again and whispered,
''Don't lose, Jaehaerys. I beg of you, don't lose.''

His farewell to Margaery had been almost casual comparison. He told her to seek refuge in the
capital if all should go wrong; Aegon would never hurt her while Daemon might. She only asked
what to do if it turned out she carried his child. He could see the potential plots to make him King
if it was a boy already whirring in her mind.

Dread filled him at the thought. Another child to grow up lonely and hated in the Red Keep, to
retrace his every step. Something inside of him had hardened at the thought. I will not lose!

He gave his wife one final nod and turned his eyes to the long road before him. The Iron Throne
waited at the end of it, but thousands of men with blades in their hands waited for him. I shall kill
them all if I have to. Images of blood and battle flashed through his mind. Screaming men-at-arms
attacking him with axes raised, lines of knights in glimmering armor charging, he saw it all as clear
as day.

They passed leagues before Jaehaerys woke from his reverie to find no one had noticed where his
mind had wandered off to. They rode in silence; Jaehaerys, his Kingsguard, and Lord Tarly. They
marched along the southern bank of the Mander, the river guiding them right into the arms of their
enemy.

Beautiful country, Jaehaerys observed, watching the greenery stretch as far as the eyes can see. The
entire land felt alive, from the blooming flowers to the magnificent trees and the squirrels climbing
up and down the branches.

The soft hum of the river provided them with calming background noise and Jae took his time to
appreciate all of it. To appreciate life and how fortunate he's always been to get to experience such
wondrous beauties.

They rode until his ass became one giant blister and made camp by the edge of the river in the
evening. Jae did not bother holding a war council or going out among his men; a rider had come
from a nearby holdfast, informing them of Blackfyre's crossing of the river. The armies were three-
days march apart, though Jae suspected they would meet sooner.

''Blackfyre knows he must hurry, or find himself surrounded from all sides,'' he told his Lords
when they answered his summons. They stood before his tent, the crackling of the fire bathing
them in a warm, flickering light. Jaehaerys spoke in a calm and measured voice, tiny tendrils of ice
crawling up his back. He left his emotions behind at Cider Hall.

''He will rush into this battle and we will let him.'' The men nodded in agreement and Jae got a
savage sort of satisfaction from the lack of objections. He looked to Lord Tarly, ''What is that
village you mentioned, Lord Tarly? Black Tree, was it?''

''Aye, Your Grace,'' Lord Tarly nodded, his eyes gleaming in satisfaction. ''Lovely ground.''

''Tomorrow we set off for it. Lord Tyrell won't be arriving in time to assist us, but by possessing
the battlefield of our choosing and commanding rested troops, we shall prevail.'' The men nodded
again, watching him a strange look on their faces. Jae did not bother deciphering them. ''I suggest
you prepare yourself for the coming engagement, my Lords. Dismissed.''
They bowed and left, one by one, Lord Tarly staying back long enough to give Jaehaerys a nod of
approval. Again, he had no idea why.

He retreated to his small tent. Lord Fossoway wanted to gift him an opulent one, fit for a King.
That it would require an entire wagon for itself to transport, he did not consider. Jae politely asked
him to safeguard it until after the war. I always wanted to attend a Tourney outside of King's
Landing.

The tent he used may have lacked the gold linings and magnificent cloth but served its purpose
well enough. It had enough room inside for a large bed and a table to work from. He sat down in a
chair, poured himself a cup of wine and drank in silence, a lone candle illuminating the tent.

A man such as myself is supposed to be surrounded by his closest friends and allies at such a
moment, he thought, How come I have none?

Daemon Blackfyre was said to be surrounded by the finest knights from the entire Realm. On the
night before the Battle of the Redgrass Fields, they were bound to have sat around a fire, drinking
and laughing, recounting stories of earlier years, better years. Even Robert Baratheon, when he
wasn't too busy fucking whores, had Eddard Stark to share a drink with. Jaehaerys longed for that
kind of companionship sitting in his tent as much as he did as a boy. How come I don't have that?

He shook his head and took another sip. Enough with the whining. ''Ser Arthur!'' he called.

Ser Arthur leaned through the flap of his tent. ''Yes, Your Grace?''

''Come, share a drink with me, Ser,'' Jae said, trying not to sound too desperate or pathetic.

Ser Arthur looked as though he wanted to argue, but bit his tongue at the look on Jae's face and
entered without protest. Jae appreciated that. He gestured for Ser Arthur to take a seat and poured
him a cup of wine. ''Do not worry, Ser, I promise not to get you drunk.''

Ser Arthur graced him with a smile for perhaps the first time and took the cup.

''To peace,'' Jaehaerys toasted.

''To peace,''

They each took a sip, both enjoying the smooth taste of the Arbor Gold, but neither knowing what
to say. An uncomfortable silence descended on the tent until Jaehaerys mustered up his courage
and asked, ''What was my father like, Ser?''

Ser Arthur, who'd been pretending as though he found the liquid in his cup fascinating, looked up
with a start. ''I—Your Grace...''

''People told me about him all my life, of course. Connington said one thing, but he only wanted to
hurt me. Ser Jaime said another, but he spoke with the awe of a young boy recounting the tale of
his heroes. But you—you knew him. You were his friend. I thought you might know things they
didn't.''

Ser Arthur stared at him, appearing to be at a loss for words. He shook his head and looked back at
his wine. ''He was much like you, Your Grace.'' Jae frowned at that. No one had ever said anything
of the sort. ''Sometimes I have to remind myself you are two different people when I watch you.''
He admitted with a huff of amusement. ''He felt a sense of responsibility for everyone in the
Realm. Calm and dutiful, he always did what was expected of him, never putting his own desires
ahead of the greater good. And much like you,'' Ser Arthur looked him in the eye, ''He was always
aware of the coming storm.''

''Apart from running away with my mother, you mean. He put duty ahead of desire, except for her.''
Jae said, his tone bitter.

Ser Arthur inclined his head. ''Perhaps, but even that action was borne of duty. He believed Elia
would not be able to birth another babe and even Aegon looked far too frail. In that, it turned out he
was right,'' Arthur looked to the side with a grimace. ''But there is one thing I would say separates
the two of you; your father never believed he could prevent the coming disaster, but you... you've
fought tooth and nail the entire time, never once giving up.'' Ser Arthur gave him a soft smile, ''I
suppose that's Lyanna Stark's blood in you. And that's what's brought you here.''

''Where?'' Jae asked, wanting to know what he referred to. ''Where exactly am I?''

''You're beloved by the people of the Seven Kingdoms, Your Grace, though you do not seem to
know it.'' Ser Arthur said, smiling openly now at Jae's surprise. ''Every one of your stunts at Court,
every time you fooled Connington to help the Realm, it all trickled out of the capital. Stories of
your deeds are too numerous to count. I know you fear being seen as another power-hungry rebel,
but you should remember there are twenty-five thousand men sitting outside willing to kill anyone
who makes that claim.''

Jaehaerys snorted. ''They have little choice, Ser.''

''They have more choice than you think, Your Grace. Do you know how many men we've lost to
desertion today?'' he asked.

Jaehaerys shook his head.

''Not one, Your Grace. I checked personally. I've lost more men to desertion when we attacked the
Kingswood Brotherhood, and they were all skilled warriors and men-at-arms. At the prospect of
battle, some fled.'' Ser Arthur said, his voice betraying some of his own wonder at the
phenomenon.

Jae did not know what to say to that. He could not explain it.

''Those stories have had their effect, Your Grace. To the men outside, you are more than a man;
you've become an idea, a promise of peace and plenty. Never underestimate its ability to sway
men's hearts.''

A lump formed in his throat, his eyes stinging with unshed tears. He took a deep breath and
swallowed it all down. ''I—I thank you for that, Ser Arthur.'' All of it came back to him; Maester
Aemon's letter which brought Dark Sister with it, his furious fight for peace in spite of the odds
when he was but a boy, his dreams of a Westeros where those who fought for peace prevailed over
those who courted war – Jaehaerys regained the idealistic boy he had been, before the courtly
games of King's Landing had swallowed him whole.

Ser Arthur nodded, keenly aware of all the emotions Jae tried to hide. ''Think nothing of it, Your
Grace,'' and then, in an elegant attempt to shift the topic, he grabbed the pitcher and said, ''Another
cup, Your Grace?''

Jaehaerys laughed, quickly wiping away the single tear that got away from him. ''Aye, Ser.''

That night, Jaehaerys slept more soundly in his bed, in the midst of a military camp, than he ever
had back in his rooms at the Red Keep.
He woke with the dawn. The sense of tiredness which had plagued him since the Council
disappeared. Jae hadn't even noticed it, too caught up in his problems, but as he got up from his
bed, the feeling of sluggishness in his limbs weighed him down no more.

He put on his doublet and walked out of the tent with a spring in his step. Ser Loras and Ser Oswell
greeted him as he emerged. ''Your Grace,'' they both bowed.

''Good morning,'' Jae said with good cheer, startling the both of them. I suppose I have become
rather gloomy. His determination remained, he felt in residing in his chest, ready to be called up at
a moment's notice. Optimism, however, had taken the place of gloomy anticipation.

''Shall I call your squire to bring you some breakfast, Your Grace?'' Ser Loras asked.

''Please do so, Ser Loras. And make sure he brings some for the two of you as well.'' Ser Loras
bowed and hurried off to find Lucas.

The rest of the camp began to stir awake. Knights could be heard, shouting for their squires to fetch
their armor as men-at-arms sat up from whatever patch of grass they had chosen as their bed, the
first rays of the sun sparing their commander from having to wake them up.

Jaehaerys loved moments like these; the cool, crisp air, the moist grass and the soft light of the
morning sun.

''I trust you've split your watches in a sensible manner?'' he asked Ser Oswell.

''Truth be told, Your Grace, Lord Fossoways boys there demanded we get some sleep. A dozen of
them guarded your tent while we got some rest over there by that tree. But not to worry, Your
Grace, we kept an—'' Ser Oswell tried to rush through his sheepish explanation before Jaehaerys
interrupted him with a laugh.

''That's quite alright, Ser.'' He said, ''Those boys over there?''

Ser Oswell nodded, relief and amusement battling for dominance in his expression.

''We shall have to reward them for their leal service, then,'' Jae declared and marched over to them.

Some of them were still wiping the cold out their eyes, all groggy and half asleep, but they came to
attention quickly enough when they spotted Jaehaerys. ''I hear I have you fine fellows to thank for
my peaceful slumber,'' he said.

One of them jumped to his feet. His salt-and-pepper beard marked him as the oldest of the bunch,
the rigid posture he assumed spoke of an old soldier. He kept his eyes on the ground as he said,
''We'd wanted to do our part, Yer Grace.'' The rest of them nodded in agreement with his words.

Jaehaerys could spot an instigator when one stood in front of him. ''And so you have. I think it's
only fair I share my breakfast with such fine men, wouldn't you agree?''

His little declaration shocked the life out of them, but before they could answer, Ser Loras returned
with Lucas in tow, the boy carrying a piece of ham, two loaves of bread and a skin of ale. At least
Jae assumed the skin contained ale.

''Ah, there you are, Lucas. You wouldn't mind getting some more food for these fine men, would
you?'' Jaehaerys asked. ''If anybody asks, tell them it comes on the order of the King.''

''Not at all, Your Grace.'' The boy replied, favoring Jaehaerys with a bright smile. He unloaded the
food and quickly scurried away. I have to make sure that the boy doesn't come near the battle. Too
fine a boy to die. Jaehaerys almost wished for a traitor in the Reach so he might reward Fossoways
with untold amounts of land. They are something else.

He sat down with the men, pulled out his dagger and sliced up the peace of bread and ham,
handing it around the circle of men. He took a sip of the ale before he passed it to the instigator
whose name he still didn't know.

The man took the skin with reverent hands, staring at it as though he couldn't believe his eyes. He
took a small sip and handed it off to the next man. They all looked at him with wide eyes, none
more so than Ser Oswell and Ser Loras.

''What is your name, good man?''

''Tymon, Yer Grace,'' he replied, sounding shaken.

''Tymon,'' Jaehaerys repeated, ''I get the sense it's not your first time fighting as a part of an army.''

'''Tis not, Yer Grace.'' Tymon admitted as the skin of ale moved around the circle, ''I fought under
yer Father at the Trident, that I did.''

''At the Trident?'' Jaehaerys asked with a frown, even as a thrill went through him. ''Were you a part
of the detachment Lord Tyrell sent from Storm's End?''

''I was not, Yer Grace. I come from the Riverlands.'' He said as he took a bite of the ham and bread.
Lucas returned with enough food to feed half the Realm in the meantime.

''The Riverlands?'' Jaehaerys asked, ''How did you end up here?''

''I be working as a blacksmith since the war, Yer Grace. I made a good living. When I heard Yer
Grace's escape King's Landing, I bought a horse and followed ye's here with all the swords I could
carry.'' The other men in the circle looked to the swords lying at their sides as proof of his story.

''Do you have family there?''

''Aye, Yer Grace, two boys, and a girl. They pray for you every night.''

The optimism Ser Arthur had sparked the previous night roared into a flame. He put his hand on
Tymon's shoulder and said, ''When we win this war, Tymon, I want you to know; it'll be heroes like
you who've won it.''

Tymon favored him with a bright smile, the missing teeth making it all the brighter. ''I thank you's,
Yer Grace, but I'd like much more to see you beat that Blackfyre boy yerself.''

''Your wish might just come true, Tymon,'' Jaehaerys said, to the laughter of the men.
 Chapter 24

It took them the rest of the day to reach the village of Black Tree. Lord Tarly was right, it is lovely
ground. They made camp at the top of a small rise, looking down on the small settlement. The
river protected their right flank and the forest protected their left. The tree line had been cut down
further away from the river the closer one got to the village, giving his troops room to maneuver.
The open ground was a league wide at the top of the rise and almost three at the bottom. Lovely
ground. If Blackfyre wanted to out-flank them, he'd have to advance through a league of forest or
swing all the way around. By which time, Lord Tyrell will be here, and Gods know how many other
Houses eager to enjoy the spoils of victory. No, he had to face them here. The price of being the
invader.

His scouts had reported Blackfyre force-marched his men through the night and remained only
half-a-day away. Let him march them through the day as well, Jaehaerys pleaded to the Gods even
as he knew, deep down, that Blackfyre would. He has no choice, he's been out-maneuvered and
most likely doesn't even know it.

The Golden Company was capable of weathering the weariness, but can Florents and Oakhearts
do the same? And has Deamon chosen the House he will grant the title of Lords Paramount of the
Reach?

Even if he did, Jae felt certain it would leave one of the two Major Houses unsatisfied. I grappled
with malcontent Lords and prevailed, why not take advantage of Daemon's own political
problems?

Are you a King? Or a boy with Blackfyre in his hands, playing at war? He asked as he stared down
the long descent. At the bottom of it, Blackfyre and his army would appear in mere hours, that
much he knew.

And what of you Varys? Do you sense the trap? He got off on imagining the almighty Master of
Whisperers pleading words of caution as men of war ignored him and headed straight for
Jaehaerys' little trap. Varys' influence had never been questioned, but due to his methods, he'd
never been respected or admired either. I doubt veteran warriors will heed the advice of a schemer
when it comes to matters of war.

''Your Grace, our scouts beg report the enemy is but an hour's march away,'' Lord Fossoway said.
He, along with the rest of the Lords and prominent knights, stood behind him.

''We should hit them the moment they arrive, Your Grace,'' Lord Meadows said, eager and willing
to make up for Lord Caswell's political favor with daring and boldness in battle. The rest of the
Lords seemed to agree with his assessment.

''No,'' Jaehaerys shook his head, earning the outrage of Lord Tarly as well. ''It would not be
chivalrous of us,'' he said, his lips stretching into a dangerous smile. ''Gather all the squires, all the
whores, all the healers who shall not take part in the battle. Give them a shield and a spear to hold.
When Blackfyre arrives, we shall position them at the edge of the rise and blow our warhorns the
entire night. Let them think we'll attack them at their weakest.'' His plan began to dawn on his
commanders. ''Why fight an enemy after one sleepless night when you can fight him after two,
eh?''

Grins met his plan and laughter soon followed. Even the mighty Lord Tarly cracked a smile.
''Aye, Your Grace,'' Lord Caswell said.

''We shall get to it right away,'' Lord Meadows added, the two of them failing to notice they were in
agreement for the first time in years.

''Make sure to tell our men to ignore our warhorns 'till the morning and get a good night's sleep.''
They all nodded at his command and retreated back to their men.

''A brilliant plan, Your Grace,'' Ser Loras commented as they stood, waiting for Blackfyre to arrive.

''Save your compliments until we win, Ser Loras,'' Jaehaerys revealed his true doubts when the
commanders left him.

''I apologize, Your Grace.'' Ser Loras said, bowing his head to hide the insult he thought he'd been
handed.

''Do not apologize, Ser Loras.'' Jaehaerys faced him, ''There is simply a difference between a truth I
tell my commanders and a truth I tell those I trust. You fall among the latter group, exclusive as it
is.'' Ser Loras looked up at him, his face brightening. ''Tomorrow morning, the two of us along with
Ser Barristan and Ser Oswell shall ride down this hill commanding the vanguard, and all shall
remember the brave charge that put an end to Blackfyre pretensions once and for all, as well as the
men who led it.''

Ser Loras instantly fell for the picture Jae painted, while his more experienced knights looked less
convinced. ''Are you certain that is wise, Your Grace?'' Ser Arthur asked, though if he had a
problem with his plan or being left out of it, Jae did not know.

''I am, Ser.'' Jae nodded, ''These men do not expect me to be another lordling commanding them
from the back. When they see me charging ahead of them, they shall follow with a fury.''

''It is risky, Your Grace.'' Ser Barristan said, sounding as though he forced himself to say it. He
wants me to charge with the vanguard as well. He knows what it'll do to the men.

''Yes, I think I've heard this about war,'' Jaehaerys replied, earning reluctant laughs from his
Kingsguard.

''And what shall my role be, Your Grace?'' Ser Arthur asked, the only one who abstained from
laughter.

''Why, good Ser, you shall have the most important role of them all,'' Jaehaerys said as he looked
back.

An hour later, the first of Blackfyre's army appeared at the bottom of the hill. The cavalry arrived
first, the five hundred knights from the Golden Company along with some thousand knights from
the Houses Florent and Oakheart. Jaehaerys wanted to attack, to crush the invaders as they trickled
to the battlefield one by one. The Realm may turn on me if I win in such a manner. I'm in the
Reach, I might as well create the legend of my chivalric nature.

The rest of Blackfyre's army arrived in the next hour, setting up camp at the bottom of the hill. He
could spot the organized camp of the Golden Company in the middle and the chaotic messes that
were the camps of the Oakhearts and the Florents at the flanks.

His decoy army turned out to be two-ranks deep, all the whores proudly lining up with shields in
their hands to hold their positions the entire night. Some moaning could be heard from the men
who would be deprived of their nighttime tumble, but most were willing to sacrifice it in exchange
for victory.

He met with his Lords and assigned the battle positions for the coming engagement, giving each
man a specific task to accomplish, before he retired to bed.

The annoying sounds of his army's warhorns bothered him for about an hour before he finally fell
asleep, hoping fear would keep his enemies awake. That night he dreamt of Margaery and a
beautiful little child growing in her womb. He dreamt of a silver-haired boy he'd get to teach about
the ways of the Court and the sword, tell him all about the petty Lords of Westeros and how to play
them like a fiddle.

Dawn did not wake him that morning, Lucas did. ''Your Grace. Your Grace!'' he shook him.

''Yes, yes, I'm up,'' Jaehaerys said as he sat up in his bed.

''Ser Arthur told me to wake you, Your Grace. He says it is time.'' Adrenalin infused every part of
his body and Jaehaerys found himself wide awake in a matter of moments.

''Go fetch my armor, Lucas.'' He said as he stood up. Dark Sister rested against the edge of his bed,
as always.

''I've already brought it, Your Grace,'' Lucas said, pointing to the stand carrying his shining white
armor.

''Good, good,'' Jaehaerys blinked a couple of times. ''Help me put it on.''

Lucas got right down to work, saying, ''I've brought you a bite to eat, Your Grace.'' He glanced at
the table where a pitcher of water waited for him along with a bowl of fruit and a dried sausage.

Jaehaerys devoured it, much to Lucas' annoyance, as the boy fought to tie all the straps while
Jaehaerys ate. He had Jaehaerys ready for battle in a matter of minutes in spite of his obstacles.

Jae grabbed Dark Sister, strapped it to his waist and walked out of the tent.

Men were moving toward the front lines in many streams, an ever-growing tidal wave gathering at
the edge of the rise. His Kinsguard waited for him outside his tent, a young boy given the honor of
handling his horse.

''Your Grace,'' they all bowed.

''I trust everything's prepared, good Sers?'' he asked as he took the reigns from the boy, thanking
him with a kind smile.

''It is, Your Grace. The men are in position and our scouts report the enemy troops have been up all
night, waiting for an assault.'' Ser Arthur reported, quick and succinct.

''Excellent,'' Jaehaerys said as he mounted his horse. ''Let us sally forth, then.''

His knights nodded, mounted their horses and followed him to the front lines. None of the men
bowed as he passed them on his horse, all of their eyes looking straight ahead at the battle to come.
The flower of Reach's nobility had assembled at the edge of the rise, a line of knights four lines
deep.

Jaehaerys rode among them to the front, coming upon a grand view; twenty-something thousand
men arrayed at the bottom of the rise, waiting for Jaehaerys to charge down the hill into their
embrace. He looked to the right and to the left to find his own force looked no less impressive.
Shoulder to shoulder they stood, twenty-five thousand men looking down at the invaders.

Lord Tarly commanded his right flank, his elite troops behind him. Lord Fossoway commanded
the right while Lord Caswell commanded the reserve. Lord Fossoway had proven himself the most
sensible of the two, whereas Lord Caswell could be trusted to do as he's told because I've expressly
told him when to join the fray. Lord Meadows commanded the center because he would only have
to command the archers and follow Jaehaerys.

He gave no speech; these men did not need it. He could see it in their eyes, the way they looked
down the hill at the enemy. They smell victory.

''Shall we begin?'' he asked of his Kingsguard. Ser Loras, Ser Barristan, Ser Oswell snapped shut
their visors and gave him a nod. ''Very well.'' He looked to the herald and nodded. ''Sound the
charge.'' He put on his own helm, an intricately crafted piece of armor in the shape of a dragon's
head that did not overly impair his sight.

The herald let loose an almighty warhorn. At his right flank, Lord Tarly drew his Valyrian blade
and shouted, ''Men of the Reach! Charge!''

They began in a slow trot down the hill, almost two thousand knights following Lord Tarly. They
slowly gained speed as they approached Blackfyre lines. When they came in range of the
longbowmen, mere hundreds of yards away from their enemy, Lord Tarly raised his sword once
more. The charge slowed and Lord Tarly wheeled his cavalry around, returning back to their
original position. A flight of arrows took flight from Blackfyre lines, but only select few found
their mark.

Jaehaerys' heart pounded in his ears. A disciplined commander such as those from the Golden
Company would never fall for it, but an ambitious one like Ser Axel will have a hard time resisting
the opportunity to fuck them in the arse.

Lord Tarly had completed his maneuver and began his climb back up the hill. Come on you
ambitious bastard, bite! Just as Jaehaerys thought he failed, a horn sounded from the Blackfyre left
flank and the fox banners sprang forth.

Lord Tarly's knights galloped back up the hill with all haste and made to reform. That'll take time.

''Archers,'' Jaehaerys muttered, his command quickly relayed down the lines. Behind the ranks of
mounted knights, four thousand men-at-arms armed with longbows and close-quarter weapons
awaited.

''Nock!'' he heard Lord Meadows shout. ''Draw! Loose!''

He heard the twang of thousands of bows loosed at once and a hail of arrows took to the air. Lord
Tarly screamed at his men to reform. The Florents were a few hundred yards away when the first
volley hit them.

Arrows fell like rain. Horses reared. Men were unseated only to be trampled by the knights riding
up behind them.

''Again,'' Jaehaerys said, keeping his eye on Tarly.

''Nock! Draw! Loose!'' Ser Axel had pulled his entire flank with him. There's got to be a few
thousand of them. The lines of horsemen thinned when another volley fell on them. He looked to
the right; Tarly still hadn't pulled all his riders into line, but it did not matter. He has to go.
''Sound the charge.'' He said again and the warhorns blared. The right flank burst forth as the third
volley fell on the attackers. At the same time, five hundred riders burst from the treeline led by Ser
Arthur, headed straight for Florent's exposed right flank.

Lord Tarly hit them first and the two forces met with an explosion of screams. Jaehaerys saw a
Florent knight launched from his saddle. Lord Tarly in the thick of it, his blade already running red
with blood. Lances breaking, riderless horses galloping away from the chaos, men pulled off horses
only to continue the fight on foot. One moment they were the picture of order and chivalry, the
next a vision of chaos and savagery.

The Florents were so preoccupied with Tarly they did not notice Ser Arthur and his knights until
they smashed into their flank. Slowly, they began to push them towards the river. Jaehaerys turned
his eyes to the bottom of the rise. Go on, Blackfyre, hurry to help.

Blackfyre had to do it or risk losing his entire flank at little cost to Jaehaerys. The horn he waited
for sounded. The Blackfyre forces moved forth en masse, marching up the hill, the cavalry
breaking into a charge early to rush to the aid of the Florents.

But Florents were already breaking. He saw the first man run away from the giant melee taking
place at the edge of the river, then another, and another.

Ser Arthur and Lord Tarly will regroup after the Florent cavalry breaks, and crush their
infantry. Jaehaerys knew it. But for that to happen, I have to keep Blackfyre busy.

''Prepare to charge,'' he said, closing his own helm, adjusting his grip on the lance. They were
headed toward victory, but in the jumbled mess that is an open battle, anything can happen. Stray
arrows kill commanders every day. He muttered a quick prayer to the Old Gods and the New. All I
have to do is survive.

''Prepare to charge!'' Lord Meadows screamed at his back. Jaehaerys shifted in his saddle, his heart
pumping so quickly he feared he might faint.

Keeping a tight hold of the reins, he raised his lance and shouted, ''For Westeros! Advance!'' He
gave his mount a light kick to get the horse moving. Ser Loras and Ser Barristan rode at his sides,
knee to knee, both of them carrying lances, the banner of House Targaryen flapping proudly as
they rode.

The walk turned into a trot, the trot into a canter. The gleaming wave of steel and flesh carrying his
enemies approached with deadly steadiness. The grass was still wet from the morning moist and
more than once he felt his horse lose his footing. His thighs squeezed the animal beneath him,
desperate to keep his balance.

When they were but fifty yards away, he gave one last command. ''Lances! Charge!''

He gave his horse a hard kick and then he was flying down the hill, his fears left behind. He
ignored the mass of men heading for him, focusing only on the golden knight at the tip of his
lance. There came a moment, right before the collision, when everything slowed down and he
seemed to float on his horse, mid-stride.

He put his lance right through the heart of a knight, deflecting the knight's own lance with his
shield. He closed his eyes, fully expecting to collide with another rider or get hit by an unseen
enemy...

And then he passed through their first two lines, untouched, even as mayhem erupted.
He raised his shield just in time to deflect another lance aimed at his heart. Instinctually, he drew
Dark Sister from its sheath on the saddle and slashed upwards, sewering the knights arm and
coating his own in blood.

Ser Loras and Ser Barristan were nowhere to be found. A knight came screaming at him from the
side and he ducked under his swing, the man lost in the chaos before he had a chance to retaliate.

He wheeled around and charged back into the chaos, cutting off the arm of a knight dueling one of
Fossoways men, and burying Dark Sister in the head of a knight who continued his fight on foot.
Blood sprayed across his helm, he tasted it on his lips. He pulled the blade free and faced his next
opponent; a huge knight with the leaves of House Oakheart on his shield.

The knight's powerful first swing almost wrenched Dark Sister from his grasp as he deflected it.
The knight rained blow after blow down on him, determined to beat Jaehaerys into submission. Jae
danced in and out with his horse just as Jaime taught him; denying the man a chance for a balanced
swing. He had to lean forth or to the side to reach him, convinced the next swing would put an end
to it, only for Jae to maneuver his horse out of the way.

I only need one opening. It came when Jaehaerys deflected a side-swing over his head, twirled his
sword to bring it high into the air and brought it back down on the knight's arm. Dark Sister
cleaved through his armor and chainmail.

Jae rode on to find his next challenger as the knight fell from his horse screaming, clutching at the
stump of his arm. From atop his horse, he could survey the battlefield and saw his right flank
gaining ground against the Florents, pushing them to the breaking point.

He slew two more knights on foot, taking one's arm and opening another's throat to the bone when
arrows came flying out of nowhere. One glanced his helm, making his head ring, two more
embedded themselves into his shield and the fourth hit his horse right behind the ear.

He jumped clear of the stirrups and rolled away on the ground, all of his instincts screaming at him
to get up. He was defenseless! He grabbed Dark Sister and jumped to his feet. He thanked the
Gods for having listened to Lord Tarly; he wore leather boots instead of sabatons. It proved a wise
decision when a knight in dark armor came charging at him, only to slip on the blood and gore of
the fallen. Jaehaerys did not give him the chance to get up, planting his heel into the man's head,
putting an end to the fight with one savage thrust.

He looked around and saw Lord Meadows engaged in a duel. Quickly closing the distance, he put
Dark Sister through his opponent's back. Kicking the knight off his sword, he turned to the Lord
only to see his face squashed in by a morningstar. The man wielding it swung for him next. Jae
ducked under the first blow and lopped the head off the morningstar when he blocked the second
one. He buried his sword in his chest, kicking the corpse at his next attacker, making the
mercenary stumble – he got his throat slashed for his troubles.

His head whipped back when a man tackled him from behind and brought him down into the mud,
Dark Sister slipping from his grasp. Because of the sheer panic brought on by his position, he
barely felt the punch to the back of his head, drawing his dagger and stabbing blindly behind him,
earning a cry of pain. He rolled over, slipping and sliding in the mud as he straddled the man and
buried his dagger in his throat.

He frantically looked around to find Dark Sister, spotting it only a few feet away, its golden hilt the
only remaining recognizable feature in the mud. He got up and desperately ran for it. A knight
appeared in his path but Jae threw himself at him, dagger first, finding his eye-slit. He crawled
over the knight to the Valyrian blade, sighing in relief as his fingers wrapped around its hilt,
switching his dagger to his left hand.

He staggered to his feet, his next opponent already on him. He deflected his swing with Dark Sister
and stabbed at his side with his dagger. He hit the man in the face with the hilt of his sword to put
him on his back, Dark Sister once more playing the role of executioner.

He fought on, losing all track of time. He ceased thinking; he focused only on the men before him
and how to put them into the ground. All other concerns vanished and a savage part of him
emerged. He felt alive as he never had before, going up against warriors with everything on the line
and emerging victorious over and over again. Dark Sister sang in his hands, caked in blood yet
always thirsting for more as he stalked the battlefield like an angel of death in search of his next
victim. Too slow, he thought when he side-stepped a thrust and opened the throat of a Florent men-
at-arms. Too weak, he thought when a knight of the Golden Company tried to beat him to his knees
only to get a sword through his face instead.

He never noticed how the crowd around him thinned and the number of corpses on the ground
increased. Never saw how men began to avoid him and he got to pick and choose his opponents.

''Your Grace!'' he heard a scream, turning around to find Ser Barristan, caked in blood and gore
from head to toe, his unblemished white armor gone. I must look even worse. ''We must put an end
to this!''

He pointed his red blade at a group of men fighting together in the midst of all the chaos; the black
dragon on the chest of the man in the middle unmistakeable. Daemon Blackfyre. He said nothing,
running past Ser Barristan straight at them.

A man-at-arms got in his way. Jaehaerys put all his weight behind his swing, cutting through his
club and nearly taking his arm. It's not even fair. He ducked under another man's swing, opening
his guts with a quick slice.

And then he was on them; a group of four men surrounded the pretender, undoubtedly the best
fighters the Golden Company had to offer.

''Blackfyre!'' he screamed as one of the men rushed him. Jaehaerys planted his boot in his chest and
put him on his arse. Ser Loras appeared from his right to finish him off, Ser Oswell right next to
him. Thank the Gods.

There was a lull in the battle as they eyed each other. It lasted but a moment as all of them sprang
forth as one. Jaehaerys ignored the other three men, going right for the pretender.

Dark Sister met the blade of Aegon the Conqueror with a scream. ''You're going to die today,
dragon,'' Blackfyre growled, pushed Dark Sister to the side with his crossguard, brought his own
sword behind his head and swung down at Jae's head.

Jae spun on his heel and knelt, Blackfyre passing harmlessly over his head, as he planted Dark
Sister's hilt in the boy's knee, making it buckle. He spun back to his feet and went for the kill, but
the boy brought Blackfyre up in time to block it. This is not a dance. Jae kicked him in the groin,
saw the boy's eyes go wide with pain through his eye-slit. He doubled over, Blackfyre falling to
the side as Jaehaerys brought Dark Sister high into the air and swung down with all his strength,
splitting the boy's skull. There will be no one-hour duels from the songs today.

''No!'' came an anguished scream from the side and Jae turned to find a knight had knocked Ser
Oswell to the ground and headed straight for him, sword raised.
With the calm and poise of a man who knows he's won, Jaehaerys lunged forth, quick as a snake,
expertly finding the gap between the neck-brace and the helm to pierce the knight's throat. When
he pulled back, the knight collapsed to his knees, trying in vain to stop the bleeding and get a
breath of air.

Jae watched life slowly leave him, oblivious to the cheers of his own men, to the panicked retreat
of the rebels or how quick some were to surrender, Ser Arthur's and Lord Tarly's men surrounding
them.

Jaehaerys won his first major battle but watching that man die before him, he did not feel very
victorious. What now? He asked himself as he looked around at the thousands of dirty, bloodied
and exhausted men cheering with their swords, axes, and clubs raised.

The songs never mentioned this part. He felt as though he woke from a haze; his eyes roamed
across the corpses strewn across the battlefield. How many did I kill? He saw the man whose arm
he nearly cut off writhing in the mud, pleading for an end to the pain. He's little more than a boy,
asking for his mother!

Lord Tarly rode up to him, caked in blood and mud but looking as alert and ready for action as
ever. I could force-march this one to the Wall and he'd still keep his posture. ''Your Grace,'' he
hailed, bowing his head. ''We've got thousands of traitors on the run. Permission to pursue them?''

''Aye, Lord Tarly, but focus on capturing rather than killing them. The battle is won, Blackfyre
dead. There's no need for further killing.'' Jaehaerys said as he pulled off his helm and ran a hand
through his hair, only to learn his mistake. He looked down to find his hands bloody, pieces of
bone and flesh sticking to them.

He had to swallow the bile that rose up to his throat; wouldn't do to throw up in front of Tarly.

''Are the men capable? I would imagine they're exhausted.'' Ser Barristan asked, having noticed
how pale his King had gone and quickly moved to shift Lord Tarly's attention.

''Aye, Ser, but the sight of the enemy fleeing from the got them all the energy they need.'' Lord
Tarly said, showing one of his rare smiles. Born and bred for war, as Lady Olenna put it.

''You go on, Lord Tarly.'' Jaehaerys nodded to him and the man rode off.

Jaehaerys himself wanted nothing more than to retreat to his tent and scrub his hands for the rest of
the day. ''Your Grace,'' Ser Barristan said. Jaehaerys looked to him to find him glancing at the men
around them and then the dead Blackfyre boy.

None of them were leaving, even the commanders quietly watching Jaehaerys. What in the world
are they waiting for?

Ser Barristan, seeing Jaehaerys incapable of reason, stepped forth and picked the sword Blackfyre
from the hands of the dead boy. With a quick swipe, he cleaned it of blood and mud and
approached Jaehaerys. He went down on one knee and held the sword for Jaehaerys to take.

''For decades, this sword has been wielded by those unworthy of it. Let now, after all this time, the
rightful King of Westeros once more wield the sword of the Conqueror.'' Ser Barristan looked
around and shouted, ''All hail the King!''

''All hail the King!'' his army responded as one.

Jaehaerys sheathed Dark Sister and grabbed Blackfyre with reluctant fingers, lifting it high into the
air, the cheers of his men drawing a practiced smile to his face.

How many did I kill?

 Chapter 25

A dozen candles flickered through his tent. In his lap laid the freshly polished Blackfyre; Lucas
had been most keen to perform the task. Lord Fossoway sat to his right, Lord Tarly to his left for
none could dispute their seniority as commanders of the army any longer. Other commanders and
warriors who'd proven their mettle during the battle stood around the tent, glaring at the prisoners
while his Kingsguard stood at his back. Even some newcomers joined his fledgling Court in the
last two days, Lord Rowan and Lord Tyrell chief among them. Scouts reported Hightower a day's
march away, twenty thousand men at his back.

To the left of the table, the entire treasury of the Golden Company had been piled up, a dozen
crates filled to the brim with gold. The men who escaped the battle tried to take the treasury and
make a run for it, but Lord Tarly quickly put an end to all such notions. How much more wealth
they'd pull off the bodies of the dead and the captured, Jae could only guess. Enough to buy the
Golden Company and then some. Enough to buy a kingdom. Jaehaerys had all sorts of plans for it.

On their knees before him were the principal commanders of the sellswords and all those who
joined the cause of the Blackfyre pretender. Harry Strickland glared up at him with the look of a
man who meant to go to his grave shouting insults and cursing everyone around him. Ser Barristan
nearly cutting off his hand probably hasn't helped his disposition.

The rest of the sellsword commanders looked much the same. They had nothing to offer him; all of
the captured men they commanded, if they weren't maimed or dead, already offered to buy their
freedom by fighting for Jaehaerys. There weren't many, a thousand or so, but Jaehaerys had no
intention of wasting their desperation.

The allies of the Golden Company, on the other hand, looked much different. Ser Errent Florent
trembled like a leaf, having found himself the Head of House Florent at its historic low point. His
brother Ser Axel had the bright idea to challenge Ser Arthur to single-combat and lost his head for
it. Not much of a loss, come to think of it. He wasn't using it anyway.

To the left of the little group knelt the two surviving Oakheart men, Ser Artys and Ser Arys. The
eldest brother, the one who led them into the entire mess, got himself killed on the initial charge
and Jaehaerys apparently killed the second-eldest brother himself. I can barely remember it. He
had to give the two men credit, though. They did not cower before him nor did they glare hatefully.
Solemn-faced and grief-stricken, they stared into the middle-distance, awaiting his judgment.

Outside the tent, his victorious and weary army rested for the night, having spent the day looting
corpses and preparing to march from whence they came.

''That's the rightful King of Westeros you've killed, boy.'' Strickland accused, spitting at his feet.

Jae gave him a look of utmost indifference. The times when Blackfyres could spin such nonsense
had long passed. He thought they'd label him a kinslayer, while conveniently forgetting how
desperate they were to kill me.

A guard put the butt of his spear into Strickland's stomach when the man went to get up, sending
him into the ground face-forward, coughing and wheezing, hands tied behind his back.

He hadn't asked for the sellswords to be brought before him to listen to their bleatings. He brought
them so the other traitors witnessed their fate and trembled in anticipation. ''Your machinations fall
on deaf ears, Strickland. Why anyone would listen to a sellsword's opinion on succession is beyond
me, anyhow.'' The men around the tent chuckled at that.

''I am a knight!'' Strickland thundered, ''I come from a noble House of the Realm.''

''Once-noble House of the Realm. It's been a century since anyone called a Strickland 'My Lord',
hasn't it?'' Jae's words cut deep, he could see it. ''And I don't know how you can claim I've killed
the rightful King of Westeros. The Florents are descended from Garth Greenhand, but you don't see
Ser Errent claiming Ser Arthur killed the King of the Reach.''

That got him a full-blown round of laughter from the men, all of them savoring the humiliation of
their fallen foes. That's not right, he immediately chastised himself, noticing Mace Tyrell's gleeful
grin, I shouldn't have said that.

''Is that it?'' Strickland asked, ''You've brought us here to mock us?'' The other sellswords watched
him through hooded eyes.

''Not at all,'' Jae replied, hiding a wince, ''I've brought you here because it is only proper to look a
man in the eye before you give out your sentence.'' He straightened in his seat and cleared his
throat. ''As commanders of the Golden Company, I hereby find you guilty of invading the
sovereign Realm of Westeros, of causing the deaths of thousands and attempting to place the
Pretender Daemon IV Blackfyre upon the Throne of Westeros. As such, I hereby sentence you to
death.'' He took a deep breath, ''The execution will take place at dawn.''

He nodded to the guards. They each grabbed one of the commanders and dragged them out of the
tent, kicking and shouting. His eyes fell on the three remaining men. There were more men outside
in the bull-pens, knights and minor Lords who'd sworn their swords to traitors, fearfully awaiting
his decision.

The three of them watched the Golden Company commanders leave with terror plain in their eyes.
''Now then,'' Jaehaerys said, wiping imaginary lint from his doublet, ''If you all have some great
story to tell me, one that might come close to explaining why you thought it a good idea to side
with a Blackfyre pretender and rebel against the Crown, now's the time to tell it.''

They kept their silence, but Jae saw the discreet glance between the two brothers, saw the way Ser
Ryam went to look up but stopped himself at the last second.

''Come now,'' Jaehaerys prodded, ''Tell me tales of Varys' schemes to get you into this war.'' He
wagered Ser Ryam would break first. ''Lord Florent?''

Ser Errent flinched at his new title, hesitantly meeting Jae's eyes. ''There is no excuse, Your
Grace.''

''Oh, I know,'' Jaehaerys nodded, ''I'm merely looking for an explanation.''

''I—I don't have that either, Your Grace. My Uncle, Ser Axel, hoped he'd be named Lord
Paramount of the Reach in exchange for his support of the Blackfyre boy.'' Ser Errent said, his
voice growing steadier as he talked.

''And he was so convinced of his success?'' Jaehaerys asked with a frown. War's a dangerous
gambit, even idiots know that much.

''He thought with you dead and Lord Tywin busy dealing with the northerners and the valemen, we
would win, yes.'' Ser Errent nodded. Ah, so Lord Varys expected his last scheme in the capital
would end with my head on a pike. Pity.
He knew he would not kill the man. I've killed enough of them as it is. Besides, attaining a Major
House would bring untold amoung of headaches. Though it would be amusing to watch men try to
stake their claim on Brightwater without admitting to any familial relations to the Florents.

But he couldn't tell the man he'd live another day yet. He had to deal with the Oakhearts first. Gods
above, let them have a better story to tell. ''And you two, what did Varys do to entice your brother
to join the Pretender?''

The two shared a look with a thousand words behind it. Surprisingly, the younger of the two spoke
up. ''Lord Varys provided proof that Lord Tyrell had been involved in the death of our father, Your
Grace. Jon sided with Blackfyre for vengeance.''

''Lies!'' Lord Tyrell erupted, ''I'll have your tongue pulled out, man!''

''You will do nothing of the sort,'' Jaehaerys continued in his calm voice. Lord Tyrell, of all the
men present, could be put down most blatantly. I'm fucking his daughter, what else could he want?

He looked for Ser Arys to elaborate. ''I didn't say it was true, merely that my brother considered to
be.'' Ser Arys said, but the passing glance at Lord Tyrell told a different tale. Believes the evidence
but is smart enough to keep his mouth shut. Very good indeed.

''So your brother had no intention of seeing himself named Lord Paramount of the Reach?'' he
asked, internally praying the man would put on a display of humility for the ages.

''He did not, Your Grace. Jon never much cared for politics or power.'' Ser Arys said.

''Yet how am I to believe you still do not shelter desires for vengeance against Lord Tyrell? You
were willing to go to war on the belief that he had a hand in your father's death.'' Jae asked.

''Even if I had, and I must stress I've always had my doubts, we both did,'' he looked to his brother
who nodded along, ''I would consider the matter to be settled by combat. The Gods have spoken.''

Jaehaerys nodded, choosing not to point out that Lord Tyrell did not take part in the battle as any
sensible Septon in the Realm might have.

One of them had been led by his oaths, the other two fought for vengeance. Not much, but it's
something.

''My decision is as follows,'' he began and the three of them straightened up, while greedy looks
appeared in the eyes of all those who stood to profit from their downfall. ''Both Houses shall lose
the majority of their lands to those who remained loyal. Both Houses shall give up hostages to the
Crown to vouchsafe future loyalty. And finally, both Houses shall add all of its remaining forces to
my army, to serve under me until this war's completion.''

Should be another couple of thousand men. The three of them exhaled in relief, the greedy looks in
the eyes of his Lords temporarily sated. Good enough.

''The specifics shall be arranged at a later date, but know that none of you shall be leading your
men directly and your banners shall not fly in this army.'' He added the last part with a stern tone of
voice. He had to divide the men and spread them out among his army. If he tried to have thousands
of men marching in his army under the Oakheart leaves, there'd be in-fighting in his camps by the
morning. ''Until then, you'll be kept a prisoner in circumstances that befit your station.''

He nodded to the guards. The three of them were escorted outside as opposed to being dragged out.
''A wise course of action, Your Grace.'' Lord Fossoway nodded from his side. The rest of the Lords
and knights voiced their agreement. How one victory turns proud Lords into bootlickers, though he
believed Fossoway's compliment to be genuine. The young Lord had proven his worth in the battle;
he'd been instructed to hold the right flank at all costs and ended up crushing the Oakheart flank
and met a mildly startled Lord Tarly in the middle.

''Keep that one close, Your Grace,'' The Lord of Horn Hill told him after the battle.

''Glad to see we are in agreement, my Lords,'' he said with a smile. He saw no reason to squander
the popularity he killed thousands for. He looked to Ser Arthur and said, ''Bring him in,''

The man he'd been waiting for the entire evening. The man responsible for the entire affair. Four
guards brought Lord Varys into the tent, the man looking a much different than Jae remembered.

Funny things happen when you interrupt an actor's performance. Punch a man mid-sentence and
you'll see if he's pretending. The Varys Jaehaerys knew always maintained an image of detached
interest. He had the look of a man who kept his mask on the privy and would hold onto it on the
executioner's block. Jae thought Varys the type who would glide through a storm with ease, always
keeping his hands in his sleeves, always holding that faint smile.

The man who walked into his tent looked nothing of the sort. His immaculate robes had been
replaced by a dirty tunic and trousers. He looks different without his costume, weak even. His eye-
watering perfumes no longer clung to him, replaced instead by the stench of shit. The powder on
his face gave way to his true pale skin, and for the first time, Jaehaerys saw a bead of sweat trail
down his face.

When the guards forced him to his knees, his shoulders hung low, the picture of a man
defeated. This is him. This is the man who made fools out of Kings and dancing monkeys out of
Lords.

He would have to be erased from history, forgotten by the world. Jaehaerys meant to do it himself.
A commoner, from Essos of all places, who rose up so high he embroiled Westeros in a war from
Sunspear to the Wall. People must forget all about him, lest they get a glimpse of the possibilities.

The narrative of God-given rights to rule might have been constructed by powerful men tired of
being challenged, but Jaehaerys knew of no better alternative. If the nobles can be such savages
when they're well-fed, what would the commoners do if given half the chance?

No, Jaehaerys would strive to make the nobles truly noble and do his best to improve the lives of
the smallfolk. But no more.

''Varys,'' he said, purposely avoiding the man's honorary title. ''Anything you care to tell me?''

Varys looked up, a bitter smile on his lips. Sixteen years I've known him, this is the first time he's
shown any genuine emotion. The discipline! ''What would you like to know, Your Grace?''

''You do not dispute my right to the Throne?'' Jaehaerys asked.

''You've been the King since the day you were born, Your Grace. I am but one of many who
wanted to deny you your birthright.'' Varys admitted, choosing honesty on his last evening.

Jaehaerys nodded, pleased by the effect his words had on the men present. ''And care to tell me
why you've chosen to plunge Westeros into chaos?''

''I did nothing of the sort, Your Grace. I merely took advantage of the chaos caused by others.''
Well, Varys had him there. ''And why did you choose to do so?''

''Blood is thicker than water, Your Grace.'' He said, his eyes falling to Blackfyre. How much grief
one bloody sword could cause. Jae had to admit he found it awe-inspiring, but I doubt I'd start a
war over it.

''Never expected such a complex man to be driven by such basic desires,'' Jaehaerys said.

''I've always wanted what's best for Westeros, Your Grace,'' Varys said, some of that old passion
back in his voice. ''But I admit to wishing it under certain conditions.''

Jae nodded in understanding. The rest of the men present may have glared at him for his words,
choosing to forget each and every one of them had killed, lied and stolen for the sake of their own
families. Jae did not spare himself such hard truths. How many have I killed to keep the Targaryen's
on the Throne?

''Your sentence is clear, I'm sure you know that much, Varys.'' He said. He could not even muster
the hatred he should have felt for the man. I was always going to fight a war.

''I do, Your Grace,'' Varys said, having given in to his fate. ''But if I may, perhaps I could try to
offer one last service to Your Grace. Mayhaps the Gods shall look more kindly upon me once I
descend to the Seven Hells.''

''So you may drip a final dose of poison in my ear, Varys?'' Jaehaerys asked, but his nails scraped
the armrest of his chair.

''Come now, Your Grace. We both know you would never act on my word alone. I merely wish to
push you in the right direction.'' His eyes had that gleam to them, savoring the last occasion in his
life when he knew something others did not.

O-O-O

Jae stared at him in silence, weighing the options and playing out games in his mind. If I give him
the chance to talk, he'll cast suspicions on one of my allies, no doubt about it. If I don't, I might end
up blind-sided as I did during the Council. Not really much of a choice.

''Everyone out.'' He barked. Most left without a word, a sign of his growing prestige and power,
quickly bowing and leaving the tent. Lord Tyrell went to argue, but one look from Jaehaerys had
him reconsider.

When all the Lords and knights had left, and his Kingsguard took positions around the tent so that
no one could eavesdrop, Jaehaerys said, ''Well, then, Varys; time for your last dance.''

Jae came out into the cool night air and took a deep breath to steady his nerves. Gods above, can it
be? Aside from a few flickering fires, the camp hid in the darkness, only the occasional sentry
disturbing the quiet. And me.

''Your Grace?'' Ser Barristan's voice came from the side. ''Everything all right?''

''Yes, yes, quite all right,'' Jae responded, though he knew he had a monumental decision to
make. No point in worrying about it now.

He moved away from the camp, his Kingsguard falling behind him like silent shadows. His feet
guided him back to the rise where the battle had been fought. The reek of the rotting corpses
remained, though men had been tossing them into the river the entire day. The entire
field felt wrong, in a way it hadn't before the battle.

''Death leaves a mark wherever it goes, Your Grace,'' Ser Barristan had told him. The venerated
knight had taken him from the battle-field after bestowing Blackfyre upon him. Jaehaerys had
expected they'd go back to his tent, but Ser Barristan took him into the woods instead, away from
the eyes of the army.

Once there, he pointed to a tree and nodded. Jaehaerys wanted to ask what it was all about, the next
he was puking his guts out, leaning against the tree. Ser Barristan controlled the rest of the
afternoon. He demanded a bath be prepared for Jaehaerys and told him to scrub his skin until he
had it red and raw. Jae obeyed, crying his eyes out in the privacy of his tent before Barristan sent
him off to bed as though ordering a petulant child.

He woke up in the middle of the night, his tunic drenched in sweat, shaking and shivering. Ser
Arthur, Ser Barristan and Ser Oswell were all there for him. They had seen his embarrassment,
noticed how weak he felt to have them see him in such a state, and so they told him all about what
had happened the first time they took a life.

Ser Barristan's first kill came unexpectedly, during a Tourney. A Tyroshi man, lance through the
heart.

''The knight I squired for took me away from the people and did for me the same thing I did for
you,'' Ser Barristan said with a smile as Ser Oswell handed him a cup of wine.

''Mine was not long after I was given Dawn,'' Ser Arthur continued, ''We'd gone out to track some
bandits on our lands. I'd never so much as cut a man intentionally before that day. I knew what I
could do with a sword, but I didn't understand what I could do to other men.'' He sighed, eyes far
away. ''I killed half a dozen bandits before it dawned on me that these weren't sparring partners,
and they'd never get up again. I didn't notice how Dawn had turned red until it was all over.'' He
looked Jae right in the eyes then. ''It took a week locked in my chambers and a barrel of wine for
me to get myself together. The day I came out, I announced I wanted to join the Kingsguard.''

''Why?'' Jaehaerys asked, more a little boy asking about a fascinating story than a King.

''Because if I was going to kill again, I wanted to do so for a greater purpose, Your Grace.''

''But—But—'' he hiccupped from the crying, ''This wasn't the first time I killed.''

''Then you are stronger than any of us,'' Ser Oswell said with an encouraging smile, eager to
dispell Jae's embarrassment.

''You killed in pursuit of peace until today, Your Grace. Now you kill to make war. These are two
entirely different things.'' Ser Barristan told him, ''But as long as you fight toward that same end,
you need never hesitate to look in the mirror.''

Jaehaerys had felt a knot ease in his chest, a sense of sickness wither away. He remembered that
field of corpses and men with sharp blades he'd seen riding out of Cider Hall. I've come a step
closer. This is but a nightmare; the only thing to do is put your head down and win.

Jaehaerys had made his peace with the crimes he committed, the crimes he had yet to commit. My
feelings do not matter. He served the people of Westeros and the ends would always justify the
means. No matter how bloody, no matter how vile. If I'm going to burn in the Seven Hells, I'll do
so for a good cause.

He stood at the top of that rise, his silhouette illuminated by the pale moonlight. Varys' words
echoing in his mind, he chartered the next part of his dance, one destined to leave countless corpses
in his wake. Power. Absolute power is within my grasp. All I have to do is reach out and take it.

He turned and approached Ser Barristan. ''Go to the command tent. Find a blood-red casket in the
Blackfyre loot and bring it to me.''

Without another word, he walked on to his tent. He had a long night's sleep ahead of him.
 Chapter 26

Ser Jaime had gone to great lengths to explain the art of sleeping in a saddle once upon a time.
Jaehaerys had not paid too much attention, but luckily he remembered the most important
part. Keep your bloody helm on. It worked wonders to stabilize one's head. Combined with the
neck-brace, you could lean your head to the side and relax your neck. The gentle rocking of the
horse lulled a man to sleep and as an added bonus, the helm made sure the soldiers did not see their
King dozing off on the march.

It served Jaehaerys well on the long march to the Stormlands. He'd ordered his infantry to
Bitterbridge, some fifty thousand men. The commanders had been given orders to tell everyone
their King rode with them. Even the people at Bitterbridge were told to announce loudly and to
anyone who would listen that the King was on his way. Likely it wouldn't do much, but perhaps
the Lannister spies wouldn't bother confirming the rumors.

Fifteen thousand horsemen followed him in pursuit of the next battle. Half of them had taken part
in the Battle of the Black Tree, bloodied warriors whose trust Jae had earned. The other half of the
cavalry consisted of knights and warriors drunk on tales of Jae's brilliance, eager for the chance to
be a part of his next great victory. Desperate not to miss it.

Lord Tarly had called them foolish boys. Jaehaerys called them useful. If he could justify their
conviction, they'd be his men for life. Such men are hard to beat in battle.

They marched from dawn 'till dusk. They covered nearly fifteen leagues per day, pushing their
horses to the brink of exhaustion. Jaehaerys knew he would have to afford his men some rest
before the fighting or risk making the same mistake as the Blackfyre boy.

In the evenings, they made camp, dozens of scouts spreading out in every direction to ensure there
would be no surprises. Jaehaerys feared Oberyn's aggressive disposition.

''I imagine we are about three days away, Your Grace,'' Ser Baelor Hightower muttered from his
side in the evening, after they crossed the border of the Stormlands. He'd been sent by his father to
command the Hightower troops in his stead. Brightsmile, men called him, but Jae had yet so see
him smile, let alone a brightly.

The nature of war, I suppose. He knew he liked the man, though. When thanked for his Houses
support, Ser Baelor replied, ''My Lord Father thinks you're going to win, that's all.''

Jaehaerys would have laughed were he not in the presence of all the Lords of the Reach. He did not
remember the last time he'd seen an honest man, let alone one who looked so formidable. That
Valyrian sword at his hip is not to be scoffed at either.

Vigilance, the Hightowers called. An appropriate name for a House who kept to their bustling city,
ever-watchful of the next great threat to their domain.

''What's the latest report on Prince Oberyn's position?'' he asked Ser Arthur. They all sat around a
camp-fire, night having fallen long ago. Whatever small luxuries Jae allowed himself during the
march to fight Blackfyre disappeared this time around. They had to move light, and so he shared a
tent with his Kingsguard. Lord Rowan might have frowned when he heard about it, but the rest of
his men watched him with stars in their eyes.

''Sacked Blackhaven. Lord Dondarrion is dead, his younger brother Oberyn's prisoner.'' Ser Arthur
said, his eyes locked on the fire.

''What?'' Jaehaerys erupted, jumping to his feet. ''Why wasn't I told of this?''

Ser Arthur forgot himself in the fire, weariness getting the better of even the Sword of the
Morning. He stood up, hands behind his back. ''I waited for a second confirmation, Your Grace. I
apologize for not bringing you the news directly.''

Jaehaerys took a deep breath, knew he suffered from exhaustion as much as the rest of the men.
''And Lord Orys?'' he asked, sitting back down and rubbing his temples.

''Scouts reported he's begun his march from Summerhall. Oberyn will have to meet him in the field
since there's little left of Blackhaven.'' Ser Arthur said, watching Jae closely.

''Sounds like we'll be there right in time if we keep our present pace.'' Lord Rowan muttered, half-
asleep.

''Doubtful,'' Ser Baelor countered. Jae's heart soared to hear him say so. ''Lord Orys has proven he's
as fond of speed as His Grace. Prince Oberyn has just finished a bloody sack. If I were the
Baratheon boy, I'd rush south to take advantage.''

''Ser Baelor is correct,'' Ser Barristan agreed, giving the Heir to the Hightower a respectful nod. Ser
Baelor didn't puff up his chest or anything of the sort. ''Lord Orys will be aggressive.'' Am I a lucky
bastard or what?

It is an unspoken fact of war. Nobles, in particular, do not like to mention it. They want the world
to fear them based on the numbers of men they can call up not on the competence of the men
commanding them. ''My thousand men will defeat his five hundred,'' they tell themselves. A folly.

Soldiers win wars, it is true, but commanders lose them. Give an idiot a thousand men, a brilliant
man a hundred, and you will learn the true workings of the world. Whether people care to admit it
or not; in the heat of battle, when arrows fall like rain and the Stranger lurks close by, most men
cower while some find greatness within them that cannot be contained.

A good commander is worth thousands of soldiers. It is why for all the tens of thousands of
soldiers he had under his command, Jae worried about his safety. I have eighty thousand men with
swords and four men who can tell them who to stab.

So he had to sacrifice one. Leave a commander he needed by his side, behind. Simple subtraction
answered the question for him. It couldn't be Lord Tarly; the rigid Lord couldn't deal with the
politics even on a fundamental level. Couldn't be Ser Arthur or Ser Barristan; they had to be seen
riding by his side. So Lord Fossoway stayed behind to lead the infantry to Bitterbridge, the only
one Jae trusted not to do something stupid while he warred in the Stormlands.

Yet now the Gods have seen fit to send a man to take his place, he thought as he watched Ser
Baelor chew on a piece of salted beef. I have to keep them alive. These are the men that will keep
my kingdoms together once the war is over.

''Lord Orys does not know we ride to his aid. He will have a plan of his own.'' Jae commented,
taking a swig of ale.

''You do not mean to say we should let him fight the battle on his own and sweep up whoever
remains at the end?'' Lord Eustace Bulwer asked. One of Hightower's bannermen, the last of his
House in the male line. A boy of three-and-ten, in command of five thousand men. Jaehaerys could
not blame him for his zeal or his bravado. He sat in the presence of men he considered legends. If
he were but another squire, he'd gawk at them, tongue-tied. As a Lord in his own right, he wanted
to prove himself their equal.

Jae kept his mouth shut, the glares of his companions would chastise the boy well enough, and
took another swig of ale. He wanted to get drunk so he'd fall asleep the moment he laid down. ''We
must give Lord Orys the chance to play out his plan. Observe, analyze, and attack at the most
opportune moment.''

''Hit them when they're at the breaking point,'' Ser Baelor nodded. He's had the same plan in his
mind the entire time, only waited for me to bring it up. ''The Dornish will break on account of the
surprise alone.''

''But for that to happen, we'll have to get there in time. Tomorrow, we'll rest for an hour at noon,
then ride on all through the night.'' He told them, getting up from the stump he'd chosen as his
chair with a groan. ''I suggest you all get a good night's rest, my Lords.''

With a nod, he walked off into the night, Ser Arthur and Ser Barristan quickly falling at his side.

He hadn't initially planned to assist Lord Orys in his war against the Dornish. He counted on the
boy being capable enough to keep Prince Oberyn busy while Jae went off to win the war. A similar
role Robert Baratheon assigned Lord Stannis. A messenger from Lady Olenna changed his mind.

Lord Royce had led an attack against the forces of Aegon, thinking to route the Usurper and lift the
siege of Maidenpool before Lord Tywin came to his aid. Not a bad idea, and one that would have
worked, if he hadn't gone up against Aegon.

No one knew the details. Some implied sorcery, Jae suspected trickery, others claimed Aegon to be
a beast in human form. All agreed, however, that Aegon had given Lord Royce a thorough
thrashing. Though Lord Royce eventually forced Aegon to retreat through the sheer strength of
numbers, he lost thousands of men first.

It worked well for Jaehaerys still. Tywin and Aegon wouldn't march against him with Royce at
their backs. On the other hand, he couldn't count on Royce to swing through the Crownlands and
join his army. Thus, Orys Baratheon.

That one had proven himself to be far more formidable than anyone anticipated. More than
Jaehaerys anticipated. I should have known. Stannis Baratheon raised him.

Prince Oberyn had marched into the Stormlands but did not seek out his young opponent as
everyone expected. Deciding to take advantage of Orys' unproven track record, Oberyn sacked
every castle on the way north, Blackhaven being only the latest casualty in a trail of destruction.
He wanted to prove to the people of the Stormlands their young Lord could not protect them,
thinking Orys would rush south to face him. Lord Stannis never cared what people think of him,
why should his son?

Lord Orys chose to thank the Red Viper for his folly and marched to Summerhall where he crushed
all the bannermen who'd taken the side of the Dornish. Never a popular thing to do in the
Stormlands. Now Prince Oberyn and his twenty thousand men stood against Lord Orys and his
fifteen thousand. Or so the rough estimates claimed. Jaehaerys believed the difference in strength
to be greater. He'd been hearing about sellswords fighting in Oberyn's army and smelled Lord
Tywin's influence. Casterly Rock gold can buy a lot of killers.

He didn't have much trouble finding his tent. The entire thing glowed yellow in a sea of white
spots, Ser Oswell standing guard outside. He imagined Ser Loras passed out in his bed at the first
chance.

''Ser,'' he greeted the knight. ''Everything going according to my instructions?''

''Aye, Your Grace,'' Ser Oswell responded. ''The brazier has been lit since we made camp. They're
glowing again.''

''Very well,'' he held the flap of the tent to the side and walked in to find two dragon eggs in the
brazier, snuggled neatly among the glowing embers. One the color of screaming red, the other one
the color of ice. Am I to take this as a sign?

Ser Loras snored on the cot to the side, even the heat in the tent couldn't keep him up. Jaehaerys
approached the brazier, quietly drawing his dagger. He pricked his finger and watched a drop of
blood form.

''Seven drops of blood for seven days,'' he remembered the first part of the instructions. He first
completed the process for the white egg, the blood sizzling when it hit the shell, sending a puff of
smoke into the air, then repeated the process for the red one.

He placed his hand on the white egg when it was done. He couldn't remember if he ever had such a
relationship with fire. He seemed to recall getting burnt on a candle once or twice as a boy. But on
the second night of his little experiment, something drew his hand to the glowing egg and Jae
hadn't felt a thing aside from a pleasant warm tingle.

His Kingsguard watched the spectacle with no little amount of trepidation but wisely kept their
mouth shut. Ser Arthur, Ser Barristan and Ser Oswell because they had a healthy amount of respect
and awe for Targaryen dragonlore. Ser Loras because he knew better than to speak out against it on
his own.

He'd chosen to trust the young knight with the information and thought he made the right call.
Whatever his misgivings, Ser Loras did so love to be part of the small circle entrusted with the
knowledge. Tickles his pride, as Ser Oswell put it with a laugh.

Jaehaerys didn't stay up any longer to stare at the glowing eggs in fascination, as he'd done the
previous nights. Weariness got the better of him, so he chose to forget about Lord Varys' words and
opted to deliberate about their validity another day. I need to sleep.

He unbuckled his sword-belt, placed Blackfyre next to his cot and laid down for some much-
deserved rest.

O-O-O

What to do? What to do?

''Your Grace, the two armies will be coming to blows at any moment,'' the scout informed him, his
voice frantic as his eyes took in the state of the army behind him. Jaehaerys turned in his saddle;
some men had fallen from their saddles, others looked half asleep – all looked bone tired, their
former parade-groud form long gone.

The sun peeked over the horizon in the distance, the grey light of the overcast sky waking up all the
killers in the land. They'd ridden throughout the night, leaving behind more than few stragglers
who couldn't keep the pace. Only his naps in the saddle kept Jae on his horse.

''Are they aware of our presence?'' Ser Arthur asked, the most alert man in the army beside Lord
Tarly.
''They are not, Ser. We've taken out a few of their scouts, but they'll think it to be the work of the
Baratheons,'' the man assured them, ''I'd stake my life on it, Ser.''

Ser Arthur nodded and looked to Jaehaerys for a verdict. Jae bit his lip, glanced back at his men
one more time.

''They'll wake up soon enough when it's time to fight, Your Grace,'' Ser Barristan murmured from
his side. Ser Barristan had been the most staunch supporter of the forced march and a major reason
Jae agreed to it. Talking about marching throughout the day and the night is one thing, doing it
another. Ser Barristan assuaged his fears that the men would be useful once they got to the
battlefield.

''Aye, Your Grace,'' Lord Tarly agreed, ''In times of war, when in doubt, the aggressive option is
always the wiser one.''

He's not wrong, Jae simply did not want to fight himself. His arms felt heavy, his shoulders
burdened. The prospect of a long fight did not appeal to him in the slightest. He remembered his
long fights with Ser Jaime well enough, did not want to see his strength leave him in an actual
battle. But then if we time our appearance right, it won't be a long fight.

''Tell the men to get back into line,'' He barked for the sake of waking himself up, ''It's time to
fight.''

''Aye, Your Grace,'' Lord Tarly replied, bowed in his saddle and rode back down the line, shouting
instructions.

''You know the plan,'' he told the rest of his commanders, too tired to pontificate. ''Join your units
and don't charge until I give you the fucking signal. We ride in silence from now on.''

Ser Arthur, Ser Baelor and Ser Barristan nodded and rode off, shouting their own orders. He heard
the men behind him stir to life. He'd have liked to keep Ser Arthur and Ser Barristan by his side,
but the presence of legends turned even cowardly men into lions. That Ser Barristan now wielded
Dark Sister only furthered their awe.

They told him repeatedly, Ser Barristan most of all, that Dark Sister had exclusively been wielded
by Targaryen's throughout history. Jae appreciated the sentiment, but at the end of the day, Dark
Sister was a weapon, not just a symbol. A very deadly weapon. He wouldn't leave it to gather dust
when it could be on the battlefield, killing his enemies in droves. A painter, who only uses red.

He clicked his tongue and gestured for the column to continue its march. Where in the Reach, they
were surrounded by lush forests and endless open fields, the terrain of the Stomlands consisted of
never-ending wind-swept hillocks followed by small depressions. Constant gusts of wind had him
on the verge of shivering, creeping through the cracks in his armor to finish the job the night's rain
had started. A man could never see more than two hundred yards ahead of him and it had worn on
Jaehaerys, made him worry about what awaited him beyond the next hill no matter how much the
scouts assured him of Oberyn's location.

''They'll spot us the moment we ride over that rise over there,'' the scout pointed out the hillock in
question, some half a league away.

''What does the terrain look like?'' Jaehaerys asked.

''More or less even ground, Your Grace.'' The scout replied. Jae didn't know his name, but
everything about him screamed of steady competence. ''Baratheon got here first, fortified his
ground.''

''At the front?''

''Aye, Your Grace, and only at the front.''

''Oberyn knows about it?''

''I doubt it, Your Grace. Baratheon had a line of men standing before the trenches. I wouldn't know
it myself if I hadn't had the right vantage point.''

So he wants to bleed Oberyn on a frontal charge, then funnel him to his flanks. That's when they
would strike, Jae knew at last. If that is Orys' plan. Oberyn's forces split between the sides of Orys'
army, the dornish wouldn't survive a charge at their back. There's the infantry to consider. They'll
be able to overcome the trenches.

He wanted to send orders to his commanders but opted to have a look first. They rode on in silence,
Jaehaerys calmed by the lack of screams in the distance. He looked up, the gloomy grey sky
serving as a backdrop for the grim atmosphere in his army. The men rode in silence; palpable
fatigue pervaded the army, but Jaehaerys saw the alert looks in the eyes of his men, the
determination to finish the job. They smell victory. They know tiredness is the only thing that
stands between them and glory.

For a brief moment, he wondered how his men would react if certain doom ever looked to be their
fate, but dismissed such thoughts. A worry for another day.

They rode down into another depression and then Jae ordered the scouts to fan out in every
direction, bows in hand. He gave the order for the column to halt and dismounted his horse.
''Come,'' he said to Ser Loras and Ser Oswell and followed the scout to the top of the hillock. He
drew Blackfyre and advanced slowly up the small hill, almost slipping in the moist grass, ever
wary of unexpected attacks.

None came, though the blaring of trumpets from the other side of the hill nearly made him kill his
scout. He'd never seen the man before and he wouldn't put it past the sneaky Martell's to plant a
man into his council.

They arrived at the top of the hillock to find a glorious sight unfold before them; the might of the
Dornish army charging the lines of the Baratheons. He saw the banners of half a dozen dornish
Houses flapping in the wind, Aegon's dragon banner most prominent of them all. Like a wave they
moved beneath him, the uneven terrain ruining their perfect formation, screaming like furies.

Many times had Jae imagined a battle, but never did he think he'd feel like a spectator, watching
from afar. He spotted the fortifications the scout had told him about and considered, in a sort of
morbid fascination, how many dornishmen didn't know they were about to die. I don't think Lord
Orys will even need us to win this one.

He turned to Lucas and said, ''Ride down the lines. Tell Ser Arthur he's to hit their left flank. Ser
Baelor he's to hit their center with me, and Lord Tarly to wheel his men around and hit their right
flank.''

''Aye, Your Grace,'' the boy nodded and sprinted to his horse, riding away with all haste.

He stuck around long enough to see Baratheon's front lines pull back before the dornish charge,
revealing their trenches at the last second. The first line of the dornish charge never stood a
chance. Is Oberyn among them? He'd given specific orders to capture the dornish Prince, not kill
him. Lord Orys may have rendered them moot.

Launched out of their saddles straight into the waiting pikes of the Baratheons, those screams he'd
been waiting for began. Dornish formations shattered, Baratheons held, calmly killing every
dornishman that came flying into their ranks. The third and fourth lines of the charge slowed down
and began trickling to the flanks where archers and armored knights awaited them. Jae saw the
shining armor, knew men do not fall of horses even if he didn't see the arrows that killed them.
Another horn blared from the Martell lines, signaling the advance of the infantry. Whoever's
commanding them knows they fucked up. Only strength of numbers can win it for the dornish
today. The time had come.

He ran to his horse, Ser Loras and Ser Barristan hot on his heels. ''Find me if you survive. I'll make
you a Lord!'' he shouted to the scout and galloped back to his men. Ser Arthur, Ser Baelor and Lord
Tarly had already deployed the men in four columns, stretching for hundreds of yards back. Four
lances to put the Martells to bed.

Jaehaerys hadn't intended to make any speeches, but his men needed one last kick in the butt to
wake up. ''The Baratheons are slaughtering the dornish!'' he screamed as he rode the line, to the
shock of his soldiers. ''Will you let them steal all your glory?!''

Oh, that woke them up all right. An indignant cry rose from their throats. We have fucking ridden
all this way for nothing, they seemed to say. ''Glory awaits us over that hill. Who shall ride with
me?''

The following scream might have given Martells some warning if they weren't too busy being
slaughtered to notice.

His heart pounded in his head as he rode to the head of his own column; his limbs, so sluggish only
moments earlier, pulsed with energy, and he knew what Ser Barristan meant. No one wants to be
asleep for his own death. The adrenaline would carry them for a while, but not forever. We have to
break them instantly!

He took his place at the front of his men, all of whom followed him in the Battle of the Black Tree.
Perhaps some of the finest soldiers in all the realm; exceptionally trained fighters who'd seen the
horrors of battle. One glance at them and he knew none of them would hesitate.

He took his position at the head of his column, Ser Arthur's column to his left, Ser Baelor's and
Lord Tarly's to his right.

He drew Blackfyre and held it high into the air. The blade still felt unfamiliar in his hands, though
Jaehaerys took to it far better than he did Dark Sister. Mayhaps it was its greater weight, its length
or it simply being a two-handed sword; his duels with Ser Arthur had become noticeably longer.

''For Westeros! Let us put these dornishmen to bed!'' He shouted, the sounds of battle from the
other side of the hill spurring him on. A battle-cry answered his words. With a nod, the trumpets
blared the order to charge and the four lances of steel and flesh sprung forth.

The frantic beating of his heart did not surprise him this time around so he did not fear losing
control. Instead, it assuaged his fears, knowing his men must feel the same.

With a glad cry he rode up the hill, Ser Loras and Ser Oswell right at his side, Blackfyre leaning
against his shoulder. His speed slowed as they crested the hill to see the horrors it had been hiding.

Down below, the Baratheons were surrounded on three sides. Their flanks looked to be holding,
Jaehaerys could see only corpses and fallen horses writhing on the ground and other riders who
were about to join them. The center looked much different, the fighting in the Baratheon middle
told him brave dornishmen had jumped the trench, and more jumped every moment, ranks upon
ranks of men eager to follow.

''Sound the horns!'' he screamed, pointing Blackfyre right at the enemy. ''For Westeros! Charge!''

He gave his horse a kick and his canter turned into a gallop, his knights right behind him, a
thousand names on their lips. His horse raced down the hill, and this one knew what would come
next as well as Jaehaerys did, and seemed much steadier for it. Makes two of us.

The ground shook from the charge of his cavalry. Wind whistling in his ears, the slit of his helm
allowing him to focus only on his enemy, Jaehaerys saw the pause in the fighting. Men looked as
one up the hill to find the source of the horn. He faintly heard a cheer come from the Baratheon
lines, though he could not be sure, focused more on the dornish spearmen trying to get in line.

Commanders screamed at their men to move as their men froze at what they knew to be a glimpse
of their doom. He glanced to his left; Ser Arthur kept up the pace, his white cloak billowing behind
him, as the dornish cavalry desperately tried to form up and face him. Ser Baelor rode beside him,
waving Vigilance high in the air, not a hundred yards away while Lord Tarly began his maneuver
to the right. Mounted cavalry can't corner worth a damn, he had to give himself room before he
could wheel them to the left.

Jaehaerys had been passive when charging the Blackfyre lines and later knew he'd made a mistake.
This time around, he leaned forth in his saddle, pushing the black steed beneath him to the limit.
Crouching low, he twirled Blackfyre through the air, picking a spot in the row of spears he meant
to hit. Right in the middle of what looked like the world's deadliest thorn bush.

At the last second, two of his flapping banners overtook him, Ser Oswell and Ser Loras aiming
their lances right at the men positioned in front of Jaehaerys so as to clear a path for him.

He swung down with Blackfyre blindly. His horse barely lurched as it mowed down the front line.
A flash of white flew by the corner of his eye. He'd thought he hit nothing but air, but when he
brought Blackfyre up again, blood dripped from it.

A spear came at him. He lopped its head off and rode past the man before he could retaliate. He
passed another dozen men ripe for killing before he could muster another swing and took the arm
of a knight. He rode on, kicking his horse a dozen times, knew he had to push as far into the
dornish lines as he could. He did not dare look back to see if his men followed.

A mounted commander looked like the perfect way to find out. Changing course to the right, he
rode down another half dozen men pulling back in panic, before he came upon the commander; a
man with a vulture on his yellow shield. Straight at one another they came. Jae feigned a strike,
pulled back before they hit and leaned to the side. The Blackmont knight's sword passed over his
right shoulder before Jaehaerys lurched back into his saddle and swung back of the knights head
before he passed him. He did not know what, but he knew he hit something. Ser Jaime's tricks
always work.

He pulled on the reins and wheeled around to find the commander had fallen from his saddle just as
the charge of his cavalry swallowed him. With a shout, he rejoined the charge and pushed on. In
the distance, he saw Lord Tarly's cavalry decimate the Martell right flank and suddenly nobody
fought back anymore. They ran, all of them, dropping their weapons and running the only way
open to them; back to Dorne.
His men rode down most of them, sparing some and killing the rest. Shouts of victory on their lips,
they screamed his name, though the loudest cries came from the men behind the trenches. Dirty
and bloodied, Baratheons howled like wild men.

''Your Grace! Your Grace!'' Ser Loras shouted as he rode up to him, ''Are you well?''

''I am,'' Jae nodded, not comfortable enough to pull off his helm. He looked around. ''Where is Ser
Oswell?''

As it happened, Ser Loras did feel comfortable enough to take off his helm, and his face said it all.
 Chapter 27

Two dozen knights surrounded him, pressing all around him as they rode the battlefield. They
feared one of the wounded or captured men would try to kill him in one last act of vengeance and
chose to put their bodies in the way. Jae smiled to see their eyes scan the corpses around them,
bloodied blades at the ready. My men.

Lord Tarly rode up, once more asking for permission to pursue the fleeing enemy.

''Only as far as their camp and no further. Free any prisoners you can and return at once.'' With a
nod, Lord Tarly quickly rallied a couple hundred men who still lusted for battle and disappeared
over a nearby hill.

As they moved across the battlefield, the consequences of their devastating charge became clear.
Severed limbs, decapitated heads, corpses turned to a pulp by the hoofs of his cavalry; they littered
the ground, more than he could count. Puddles of blood were commonplace; the legs of his white
charger were stained red to its knees.

Nausea did not come this time. Jae's eyes saw all, but his soul felt little. More pawns removed from
the board, that's all. He could not mourn their deaths, they'd come north for the express purpose of
murdering him. He could not blame himself, Martell's had long proven themselves beyond reason.

Killing is an essential part of kingship, he'd come to know better than most. It's what you do with
the masters that matters, their puppets are irrelevant.

Ser Arthur and Ser Barristan rode up to his little entourage, neither of them riding the horse they
charged on. Grim-faced, their white cloaks splattered with blood, they nodded to him and made
their way to his side.

''Go get some rest, good Sers, you have done enough for a day. I'm sure my Kingsguard will keep
me safe enough,'' he told the men riding around him.

He received a dozen nods from faceless men hidden behind their helms. They dispersed in every
direction, while Jaehaerys wheeled his horse towards the Baratheon battlements.

''Ser Oswell, how is he?'' he asked Ser Loras when the knights rode out of earshot. He didn't have
the chance to ask earlier. The knights surrounded him right after the dornish broke and he had no
wish to dampen their spirits.

Ser Loras swallowed, glancing at Ser Arthur and Ser Barristan who both gave him a look that
demanded answers. ''He—uh, he's dead, Your Grace. Killed when we hit the line of
spearmen.'' Killed to clear a path for me, you mean.

''Where is he?'' Ser Arthur demanded, ''Where have you taken him?''

''I left him where I found him.''

''What? Why would you do that?'' Ser Barristan asked, keeping his voice down so the men around
them looting corpses didn't hear.

''He was caught under our own charge,'' Ser Loras shot back, ''If it wasn't for the armor I'd never
have recognized him.'' He clenched his jaw, lower lip trembling. He averted his eyes, looking out
in the distance. I imagine those chivalrous ideals of war are good and dead now.
Jaehaerys mourned the man, knew he'd likely never find another knight to feel his shoes. What did
they say about the Conciliator? He had great knights in his service, but none could come close to
matching his first Seven.

Jae didn't even have seven knights of the Kingsguard serving him. The four he had, however, were
the finest in a generation. Even Ser Loras looked to be slowly earning his spot among that
number. What will I do, should the day come when the Sword of the Morning no longer guards my
back, when Ser Barristan the Bold isn't there to assuage my worries with his steadfast council?

Ser Barristan and Ser Arthur both looked crestfallen, glancing guiltily at Ser Loras. ''I apologize,
Ser—'' Ser Barristan went to say.

''It's all right,'' Ser Loras cut him. ''He was your friend. But he was mine, too. I saw him fly out of
his saddle. I could've gone for him, but he told me if I had to choose between protecting His Grace
and saving him, I should always go for the King and...''

''He told you right, Loras.'' Ser Arthur said, his expression telling Jae he's had to make the same
decision before.

''The hell I did,'' Ser Loras erupted, quickly hunching down and glancing around to see if anyone
heard him. ''Jaehaerys killed every man who got in his path anyway, I didn't even reach him until it
was all over. I could've gone for Oswell and His Grace would still be safe.''

Jae watched the exchange silently, knew this to be a matter for the Kingsguard to handle. ''Maybe
His Grace did not need you today, but someday he might. It's for that day that we make such
precautions. Oswell himself would tell you, you did the right thing.'' Ser Barristan told him. Ser
Arthur nodded in agreement.

Ser Loras stared at Ser Barristan for a few moments, then looked away, grinding his teeth. He
nodded. Jae eyed Ser Loras as they rode, weighing what went on in his head. Did Oswell's death
cast his service to me in doubt, or has it reaffirmed it? Men change when their outlook on the
world is shattered and their ideals are laid to rest.

''Your Grace,'' came a voice. Jaehaerys looked in front to find some six men go to their knees
before him. ''In the name of all the people of the Stormlands, I thank you for coming to our rescue
this day.''

Jaehaerys had to blink twice, unsure his eyes told him true. Before him knelt Lord Orys Baratheon.
Back at the capital, he met a green boy, easy to smile and quick to laugh, though always held back
by his father's judging eyes. This man kneeling before him looked nothing like him. Dark rings
under his eyes, mud, and blood covered him from head to toe. Jae spotted more than a few wounds
bleeding freely. Born a year after Jaehaerys, he looked a decade older. Or mayhaps I just haven't
seen my reflection in a long time.

''Rise, Lord Baratheon,'' Jae said, more than willing to give the young man his due. Orys got up
with a noticeable groan, Jae spotted the cut in his right thigh. He dismounted his horse and
approached. ''It was an honor to fight beside you, my Lord. I'm glad we got here in time.''

The two men shook hands, Jae observing the grim men standing behind Orys. Warriors, tried and
tested, but they all deferred to the boy who led them. Jae spotted a curious member of their party.

''Lord Swann, a surprise to see you here.'' He'd never met the man, but could still read sigils just
fine.
Orys chose to answer the silent question for him. ''Lord Swann learned of the deceit perpetrated by
the Martell's and the Lannister's, Your Grace. He's chosen to come over to our side and has been
instrumental in our efforts. I had hoped Your Grace wouldn't mind.''

Jae's respect for Orys only grew. Though little more than a catspaw, Swann played a crucial part in
getting Stannis Baratheon's head chopped off. That Orys could ignore that piece of information in
favor of political expediency...

He gave the best smile he could under the circumstances and said, ''That is your prerogative as a
Lord Paramount, my Lord, and one I support wholeheartedly.''

Lord Orys' shoulders sagged in relief and he bowed his head.

''I'm sure you'd like to get some rest after such a trying fortnight. I will leave you be today, but if
you could join me tomorrow morning?'' He asked, glancing around to see the clean up had begun;
carts were brought forth to load the wounded, the silent sisters walked among the corpses like
ghouls and the cries of pain and pleads for mercy still hadn't gone quiet.

''It would be an honor, Your Grace.''

Jae nodded and turned his eyes to the Lords standing behind Orys. ''You have done the Crown a
great service today. Rest assured, it will not be forgotten.'' He left them there, mounted his horse
and rode off.

''Anyone know what happened to Oberyn?'' he asked his Kingsguard as they trotted away from the
battlements, back to the hill from which they charged.

Ser Arthur nodded and his eyes told Jae he'd come face to face with the dornish Prince. It couldn't
have been easy, fighting his own countrymen let alone the man he'd been raised to obey.

''Dead?''

''No, Your Grace,'' Arthur looked steadily ahead and clenched his jaw. ''But he might lose an arm.''

They came up to the top of the hill and Jae spotted the command tent his men set up. ''I cannot
imagine what this must be like for you, Ser Arthur, but I do want you to know I appreciate it.''

''It is what it is, Your Grace. My oaths to the Crown come before all else. It is what will happen to
my home when the truth of this comes out that I am more worried about.'' Ser Arthur said as they
dismounted their horses and handed them to their squires.

Jae had barely considered the implications of this conflict on the political landscape of Dorne. A
civil war could not be ruled out, and even if Prince Doran managed to hold onto power, it would
take decades for a return to former glory.

And what do I want to happen? He didn't know. Martell's had committed treachery on a scale
hitherto unheard of. To ever trust them again would be foolish to the point of lunacy. Even if he
kept Arianne hostage in the Capital, it wouldn't be enough. Martell's chances of ever developing
close ties to the Crown were gone and who knew what they'd be willing to do to regain them.

But to put another in their place? The dornish with their hot-blooded ways, whatever House rose up
to replace the Martell's might secede from the Crown if only to gain full support from the people.

What's better? To leave Prince Doran on his shaky throne, exploiting his dependency on the Crown
to keep him in line, or risk someone worse taking his place?
He walked into the tent, his desk already set up in the middle of it. He zeroed in on the pitcher of
wine and poured himself a cup.

He turned to Ser Arthur and said, ''Have my Maester tend to Prince Oberyn's wounds. It wouldn't
do for a Prince of Dorne to die on our watch.''

It only occurred to him then that Ser Arthur waited for that very command, so quickly did he bow
and leave the tent.

Jae turned to the remaining two Kingsguard. He had another task for Ser Barristan, one he knew
the venerated knight would loathe to complete. But it had to be done. ''Ser Barristan, you know
what you have to do,'' he said. ''Two men, two enemies, with fatal wounds that are sure to die by
tomorrow. Understood?''

Ser Barristan swallowed and nodded, bowed and left the tent. A sign of his disapproval that he did
not say anything, but Jae would have to live with it. Ser Loras watched the exchanged with a
pinched look on his face, but wiped his face of any expression when Jae's eyes fell to him.

''You disapprove?'' he asked as he moved to the tent and called for Lucas. The boy came running
and Jae gestured to his armor as he turned to Ser Loras.

Ser Loras' eyes fell to Jae's squire, a question in them. ''You can speak freely around Lucas, I trust
him with everything.''

He didn't, of course, but it would only make the boy more loyal and it's not as if he could do much
damage. By dawn tomorrow, the world would change and no one could stop it. Prince Oberyn had
been the last one who had a chance to do so.

''Dragons are dangerous beasts, Your Grace.'' Lucas froze in the middle of unclasping Jae's neck-
brace. His eyes darted between Loras and Jae before he quickly got back to work when he noticed
he'd drawn his King's attention.

''Great periods of peace are always a result of dominance, not compliance, Ser Loras.'' He rubbed
the back of his neck, sore from days of wearing armor.

''And I have no doubt you shall engineer it, Your Grace. It's your descendants I'm worried about.''
Ah, the Dance of Dragons. The Conciliator's peace had made his descendants careless, made them
think themselves untouchable.

If all went according to plan, history meant to repeat itself. Oh, sure, the question of succession
wasn't around to create any chaos anymore, but power-hungry fools always find a worthy excuse.
No check on their power would stop it, no amount of warnings would prevent it.

A change of culture could go a long way, though. Send the ambitious and the power-hungry away
to conquer new territories was one solution, but as Old Valyria learned, one can run out of territory
to take. His descendants would turn on each other eventually.

Jae found he cared very little; he was going to be long dead and the prospect of an era of peace
appeared too enticing to give it up on the off-chance that his blood-line produced another
generation of idiots.

He worried more about the present. He worried more about the Lords and their reaction to the
return of Dragons. He'd gain a thousand enemies overnight. The Lords never liked the Targaryen's
while they had dragons under their command, he knew that much. Made them too powerful,
depriving the nobles of any sort of leverage.
So a Lord came with a petition before the King? All the political maneuvering in the world couldn't
get him what he wanted, not when the King in question had a weapon of mass destruction purring
at his side.

No, dragons made Targaryen's too powerful, so dragons made nobles nervous. Made them
question the worth of their own precious bloodlines and put a check on their ambitions. You can
rise high, my dear, but you'll never soar across the sky!

Still, Jaehaerys figured he could think of a way or two to counter their frustrations.

''Your Grace?'' Ser Loras asked.

''Oh, excuse me, Ser, got lost in my thoughts,'' he smiled and took a deep breath as Lucas freed him
of his breastplate. He'd begun to fear the bloody thing joined with his body. ''And to answer your
concerns, I have some plans in place to ensure history won't repeat itself.'' Ser Loras believed him,
he could tell.

''And the cost required to birth them in the first place?''

''Ah... well, as to that, I can only ask you; how many men have you killed today?'' Ser Loras stared
at him, chewing on his lip. He finally looked away; the bloody arithmetics of life showing their
face for the first time. ''We shall sacrifice two today, but spare thousands.''

Ser Loras nodded, though he kept his eyes on the ground, his brows furrowed. He's beginning to
understand. Good. ''I'm with you, Your Grace.''

''Glad to hear it, Ser.'' Though what kind of a choice the man thought he had, Jae didn't know. That
he had to reaffirm his loyalty only put him more on edge, made him wonder if he misjudged the
situation. ''Now if you wouldn't mind waiting outside, I would like to get some rest.''

Ser Loras looked around the tent, utterly devoid of everything but his table and two chairs. ''But
Your Grace, the men haven't brought your bed yet.''

''After the last couple of days, Ser, the ground looks mighty comfortable.'' Ser Loras gave a snort of
laughter, surprising himself even more than Jaehaerys.

With a smile lingering on his face, he bowed and walked out of the tent. ''You too, Lucas, I'll call
you when I have need of you.''

Lucas nodded, his eyes wide in disbelief with what he heard, and walked out. Jaehaerys picked up
the cloak Lucas left behind for him, laid it on the ground and settled himself over it.

But sleep wouldn't come. He closed his eyes and his mouth filled with the taste of blood, his arm
twitched in memory of how it jerked when he cut his opponents. He wondered who the Blackmont
knight had been. He wondered if he wanted to know. Better to leave his opponents faceless than
learn about them and the families waiting for them at home.

He clenched his teeth, I have people waiting for me too. Daenerys, if he was being honest with
himself, and only Daenerys. But he needed no other incentive, no other justification.

He hadn't realized he'd fallen asleep until Ser Barristan shook him awake. ''Your Grace, Your
Grace.''

He opened his eyes. Night had fallen while he slept, and only the candle in Ser Barristan's other
hand illuminated the tent.
''It is ready, Your Grace.''

Jaehaerys sat up and nodded. He thought he'd have some qualms when the time to make the final
decision came, but none came forth to make themselves heard. Perhaps his pity died somewhere on
that field by the Mander, perhaps he'd never had any to begin with. The face of that boy flashed
through his mind, of the first time he murdered. Why should this be any different? I murdered to
earn Oberyn's favor and still ended up fighting him. This time, I will not murder in vain.

He stood up and Lucas was there to provide a fresh cloak and some gloves. He handed him a
freshly polished Blackfyre last.

''Where have you set it up, Ser?'' he asked as he rubbed his eyes and grabbed a pitcher to pour
himself another cup.

''About a league away.'' Ser Baristan replied. He'd never spoken so mechanically to Jae before.

''And the story behind the men?'' he downed the cup in two large gulps.

''Your Grace ordered your own physicians to help them.'' Jae nodded and walked out of the tent.

''Very good,'' he mounted his horse. Ser Arthur and Ser Loras already stood at the ready and
together they rode away. Some of the men shot them curious glances – while Jae slept an entire
camp sprung up around him and he was in the middle of it – but no one paid too much attention.
Their exhaustion came before their interest in the strange habits of royals.

Ser Barristan had chosen well; a ring of fire surrounded the small depression, men with torches in
their hands, looking out into the night to prevent any from approaching.

''Can we trust them?'' Jae called when he rode past them.

''They will talk, Your Grace,'' Ser Barristan said as they reigned up before the funeral pyre. Jae
spied the two men tied to it, shivering in the cool air of the night and looking around in panic. ''But
if things go as you say, it won't matter by the morning.''

That's one way to put it, he dismounted his horse and gestured for one of the torch-bearers to
approach. He took the flame and moved towards the pyre with no hesitation. He had no use for it.

''Your Grace,'' Ser Barristan's concerned voice stopped him. ''Are you certain about this?'' Does he
fear the rise of the second Mad King?

Jae turned back to him and allowed himself to show some of the regret he felt about the necessity
of his actions. ''Would that I was not, Ser.'' He walked on and approached the pyre. The two men
watched him with terrified eyes, the two dragon eggs between them. Ser Barristan had chosen two
with stomach wounds; fatal, but it would take them a hell of a long time to die. I imagine they'd
prefer it to the fire.

''I want you to know, I am sorry about this.'' He murmured, keeping his eyes low.

''No! Please,'' one of them begged, glancing at the torch. ''You can't do this! Please.''

''It takes the sacrifice of a soul to birth a dragon,'' he remembered Varys' instructions. Let us pray
to the Old Gods and the New he wasn't lying.

''Your death will bring peace to thousands. I know it doesn't mean much, but it's all I have.'' The
man went to say something else, while the other kept his silence, his eyes glued to the eggs. He
threw the torch into the pyre before his resolve melted away like morning dew.

He backtracked away and that's when the other chose to make himself heard. ''I will hold you to
that, Jaehaerys Targaryen!'' he shouted as flames began to lick the sides of his body. ''You hear me,
I will hold you to those words!''

They had doused the entire pyre in oil and the fire enveloped to the two men seconds later. The
night lit up in a brilliant yellow and no matter how hard he tried, he couldn't block out the screams.

What would Jaime say?

 Chapter 28

The fire burned for hours. He did not know when the screaming ended. He could still hear it in his
ears, like when Viserys held his arm so tightly he felt the grip for hours afterward. A gray dawn
had come by the time the final embers of the fire went out. All around him he saw grey, as though
he torched the entire Stormlands. His Kingsguard stood behind him, grim-faced and quiet. None
said a word through the night, no one looked away.

But Jaehaerys did not see any of it, his eyes glued to the glowing embers. Something called to him,
a beast in his chest demanded he go into the fire. He could not identify the feeling, other than to
compare it to the times he'd let his lust run rampant. Only more primal. More powerful. More.

Ser Barristan's hand on his shoulder kept him from walking into the fire a dozen times but now
even the venerated knight took a step back. A glance told Jae he was as desperate for the ritual to
work as he was. He does not want to have to know he burned two men in vain.

Jaehaerys' legs carried him forward of their violation, his eyes watering with the smoke that blew
in his face. He could not hear any movement from the fire, no noises, but he
knew something waited for him there.

He approached the remains of the pyre, now nothing more than a pile of ash and some burned-out
sticks. He moved around it, waiting for a sign of life, waiting for proof his sacrifice hadn't been in
vain.

He saw nothing, but maybe they're hidden under all the ash. He crouched down, about to bury his
hands in it when something rustled just to the right. His eyes snapped in the direction of the sound.
Again he saw the ash shift, like a snake beneath the sand.

He swallowed and reached forward, gently dusting the ash away. His fingers fell on something
smooth, and warm, and white.

The tiny head of a snow-white dragon poked its head out, staring up at him with small, golden
eyes. It shook itself free of the soot and awkwardly crawled its way to his hand, carefully sniffing
his fingers before it looked back up at him again.

Jae did not have the time to think, to celebrate. The magnificent little creature before him captured
his imagination and his heart with but a single look. Unconsciously, he opened his palm and it
crawled into it, settling down in his hand as though it belonged there. Jae felt a smile bloom on his
face and tears pricking at his eyes. He stood up and brought the dragon closer, wanted to run his
fingers over its scales, feel its breath, anything to convince himself it was all real, he wasn't
dreaming, he had a live dragon in his hand...

More movement from the right caught his eye. A blood-red dragon crawled its way out from the
pile of ash and looked up. He could've sworn it glared at him, demanding to know why it hadn't
been given the same treatment. Laughter bubbled up in his chest. Daenerys. This one's yours. He
squatted down again and allowed it to crawl into his left hand.

A sob escaped him and a tear trickled down his cheek even as he smiled so widely his muscles
hurt. By the Old Gods and the New, I've never seen anything as beautiful.

He held them gently in his hands but they quickly sought to prove they were no fragile creatures.
The white one began to crawl up his arm and the red one, seeing its brothers initiative, followed.
They both came to rest upon his shoulders, rubbing their tiny heads against his neck like cats. Scaly
cats, that'll breathe fire one day.

Their claws clung tightly to him, but never so tightly to break his skin. In a daze, he slowly turned
around and walked back to where his men waited for him, trying to make sure his little dragons
enjoyed a smooth ride. He feared he might get a cuff around the ear or a vicious tug on his hair if
he did not.

He emerged from the smoke to find his Kingsguard standing still as statues, their eyes showing
such shock it could only mean their stoic expressions didn't have a chance to catch up yet. His eyes
strayed to the side, to the ring of men that surrounded them through the night. He knew they'd
followed his orders, did not turn to look at the fire once, no matter how loud the screams became.

They all looked at him now, silent sentinels who could not grasp what their eyes told them.

Ser Barristan recovered first and dropped down to one knee. ''Your Grace,'' he breathed with a
touch of reverence Jaehaerys had never heard before.

The rest of his Kingsguard followed his lead, the men surrounding them a moment behind. ''All
Hail the King!'' Ser Barristan shouted. Not in the way he shouted after the Battle of Black Tree,
when his eyes had been more on the soldiers standing around than Jaehaerys. This time his dark
eyes stared right into Jae's soul and Jae recognized what hid in their depths. He will do anything
now. No order will be too ludicrous, no idea foolish. I can do no wrong. A shiver ran down his
spine.

''All Hail the King!'' came the echoing shout from two dozen throats.

''Rise, men,'' Jaehaerys said with a smile as the white dragon hissed in annoyance from his white
shoulders. I really have to think of a name for them. ''Let us return to the camp. There is an army
whose faith in me I must justify.''

Bright grins answered his words as they rose to their feet and together they walked back up the
small hill. ''Tell the men to erase all evidence of the fire. I want it to look like nothing ever
happened here within the hour.'' Jaehaerys ordered as he glanced at the men. They knew the truth,
but they would be the only ones. By the time they made it back to camp, their story will but one of
a thousand. I'll make sure of it.

He felt a warm breath on his cheek. He almost looked over his shoulder to see where Arianne had
come from only to find himself eye to eye with the red dragon. Meleys. He knew it with certainty.
The name of the mount of the Queen Who Never Was, perhaps the greatest of all Targaryen
women aside from Alyssane Targaryen. A name fitting for a dragon that's to be ridden by
Daenerys.

He looked to the right and examined the dragon he claimed as his own. Its white color was without
blemish, even its claws were white if his eyes did not deceive him. He'd never heard of a dragon
like it, had no name he could pull from the history books. Morning was the name of Rhaena
Targaryen's dragon, but that one had been a pale pink. He thought about using a Valyrian name but
none seemed to fit.

Vermithor, the Bronze Fury. He thought as he walked down into another depression. He noticed
the clouds had begun to clear; it would be first sunny day in a fortnight. Another good
omen. ''Would Your Grace like to ride?'' Ser Arthur asked.

''No, Ser,'' Jae said, his mind far away. ''I want to walk among the men, I want them to see me.''
Ser Arthur nodded in understanding and his knights led their horses behind them. I've been
painting myself as the next Conciliator this entire time. Naming my dragon after the Old King will
seal it.

He nodded to himself. Yes, he knew now. ''Vermithor,'' he murmured to the dragon who cocked its
head to the side and sniffed as if he was trying to decide if he like the smell of it. ''Your name is
Vermithor.''

''And you,'' he looked at his left shoulder, ''You shall be called Meleys.''

Meleys huffed and a puff od smoke left its nostrils. Jae smiled, taking it as a sign of agreement,
watching as Meleys shifted on his shoulder to look ahead with such haughtiness Jae fully expected
a barked command to change course. They'll be telling me here to go before long.

''Beautiful names, Your Grace,'' Ser Barristan nodded, ''And wisely chosen.''

He gave the old knight a slow nod as they crested the hill, the camp coming into view. Hundreds of
small tents littered the valley, fires burning throughout. With dawn, the camp slowly crawled to
life. He saw squires running to and fro on the orders of their knights, others huddling around the
firepits in the hope of a measly breakfast.

Jae stopped and took a deep breath. He had to move carefully, had to evoke the right sort of
emotions in the men. They couldn't think that their King had gained a dragon. They had to
think they gained dragons, and they would soar with them.

''How do you want to do this, Your Grace?'' Ser Loras asked, returned from giving them men their
orders.

''Ride to camp. Tell Lord Tarly to sound the assembly.'' He said. He couldn't afford for a single
soldier to miss what came next. Ser Loras nodded, launched himself into the saddle and rode off.

''Ser Barristan, Ser Arthur, take your places at my side. We will walk straight to the middle of the
camp. Everyone will catch a glimpse by then.'' He told them.

''Aye, Your Grace,'' Ser Arthur nodded, his eyes straying to Vermithor. Jae bit his lip to hide a
smile. He could grasp what he had achieved in political terms but sensed there might be something
more to it than that. Have I just become a legend? An evil sorcerer? Does everything I have
achieved so far pale in comparison?

He began to walk down the hill, his boots sinking in the wet grass, muddy up to his ankles. Meleys
hissed at his side and Jae ran a gentle finger over it again. I will get to fly through the sky one
day. All the plotting he usually busied his mind with was put on hold, his childish exuberance
taking over. Fly through the sky, cross Westeros in a day if I like.

He wanted to giggle like a little child, but the warhorn from the camp tore through the morning
silence. Heads perked up, knights stuck their heads through the flaps of their tents. They did not
know where to look. Ser Loras and Lord Tarly helped with that. They rode their horses straight
down the middle of the camp towards Jaehaerys, and all eyes followed them.

Jae eyed those closest to him, those at the edge of the camp. They stood up, curiosity etched on
their eyes. A few frowns of confusion followed, they pointed at Jae and asked their brothers-in-
arms, ''Oi, what's that on the King's shoulder?''

A squire cottoned onto the truth first. Or mayhaps he had a wild imagination that turned out to be
accurate for once. He froze before the entrance to a tent as his eyes jumped between Jae's face and
his shoulders. He dropped the buckets of water he carried, turned on his heel and bolted down into
the heart of the camp yelling, ''Dragons! The King has dragons!''

Strangely enough, Jae heard no scoffs of derision or disbelief. Men exchanged looks, wondering if
they heard right, and moved closer. Jae reached the first line of tents and many got to see for
themselves. It would take a while before fifteen thousand men got their eyeful.

They stood in mute silence, staring at him as though convinced their eyes deceived them. Murmurs
spread among them until the air around him buzzed. They lined the path between the tents to allow
Jaehaerys room to pass, and every second another rank of men came from behind to see for
themselves.

Jae heard shouts in the distance, could sense the word spread along the camp. Lord Tarly and Ser
Loras rode up to them, Loras grinning like a maniac while Lord Tarly maintained his composure
even in this, the unlikeliest of developments.

The martial Lord needed only one look and a long blink before he dismounted the horse and
handed the reins to Jae with a bow. Yes, they'll see me better from horseback. I should've ridden in.

Jaehaerys took the reins with a nod and carefully mounted the horse, focused on the dragons on his
shoulders. Wouldn't do for one to fall off. Can't be seen picking dragons off the ground like an
idiot.

From horseback, he could see thousands of men had gathered in a matter of minutes. He rode on
slowly, his back straight, his head held high; these men would remember the moment for the rest
of their lives. Only fitting I act the part.

The stunned amazement began to give way to smiles of joy, hoots of triumph. Tymon, that old
soldier, watched him pass with tears streaming down his eyes. Jae gave him a nod and a slight
smile. He'd never seen such devotion in anyone without having to earn it first.

He rode on to the middle of the camp, past hundreds of knights and men-at-arms, past squires and
cooks, past whores and healers. The whispers went quiet; all knew what had happened, and they
only wanted to see for themselves.

When he reached the middle of the camp, they formed a loose circle around him, all of them
staring up at him, a sea of faces. Ser Arthur, Ser Loras, Ser Barristan and Lord Tarly took their
places around him, like four points on a compass.

Jae took a steady breath and wheeled the horse around so as to give everyone a chance to see his
face. If we're writing a legend, let's make it a proper one, shall we? ''Last night,'' he began, putting
an end to the last of the murmurs. ''The Seven came to visit me in my dreams.'' Oh, I have their
attention now. ''They charged me with restoring peace and prosperity to Westeros. They demanded
I lead my armies against all those who would sow chaos and reap destruction. To show their favor
to you, my brave warriors, they revealed the secret that laid at the heart of the birth of dragons.''
The eyes went wide, the breaths hitched.

He stood up in the stirrups, hoping Meleys and Vermithor wouldn't be too annoyed at what came
next. ''Aye, my brave warriors, my fierce fighters, dragons have returned!'' Jae shouted and as one
they replied in a thundering cheer. ''We shall go forth from this place! We shall fight our enemies
and we shall bring them to their knees for I promise you, my good men; all shall remember the Ice
Dragon, the peace and prosperity he brought and the brave men who stood by his side on the field
of battle!'' A bit presumptuous, but Jae cared little in the face of their deafening screams. ''Will you
fight by my side?''
''Aye!'' came the shout from twenty thousand throats.

''Will you birth a new age in Westeros?!''

''Aye!''

He grabbed the hilt of Blackfyre, drew the sword and held it high into the air. ''For the dragons!''

Their cheer was like a thunderclap, their delirious shouts of support like blessed summer rain. I do
not want them loyal. I want them fanatic.

O-O-O

He gave the guard a nod as he approached the tent, the torch illuminating his face. They held
Prince Oberyn at the edge of the camp, surrounded by knights. The man held the flap open and Jae
ducked inside, absent-mindedly stroking Vermitor's neck. Meleys remained behind with faintly a
bemused Ser Barristan.

Prince Oberyn sat turned away from the entrance, his legs chained to the pots in the middle of the
tent. He spied the sling for his arm over his shoulder. ''Jaehaerys Targaryen!'' Oberyn said, still
turned away from him. ''I've heard the cheers earlier. It must've been a thrilling speech. Celebrating
all the good dornish boys you massacred?'' Oberyn leaned back against the post, determined not to
look at him. Some petty act of defiance?

''Oh, I can only wish my words alone could cause such a stir. I'm afraid most of the gratitude goes
to my little friend here,'' Jae sat down on a barrel by the entrance, Vermithor purring in pleasure.

Oberyn heard. Jae saw his body tense. He looked over his shoulder and froze. He shifted around to
face him, shaking his head the entire time. Where did the proud Prince go? He reminded him of
Varys without his costume; Oberyn wore but a threadbare and dirty tunic, and patched up breeches.
A sobering lesson, though not for Jaehaerys. If they ever capture me, I won't live long enough to be
humiliated.

''It can't be,'' Oberyn finally breathed, unable to take his eyes off the dragon.

Jae absent-mindedly brushed some dust off his cloak as he said, ''Ravens fly as we speak. This time
tomorrow, all of Westeros will know dragons have returned.''

That proved enough to break the spell and steel returned to Oberyn's gaze. ''Dragons can be killed,
we dornish know better than most. Especially baby dragons.'' He spat.

''Too true,'' Jae agreed, ''But we're not talking about dragons, are we?'' he allowed a vicious grin to
spread. ''The ravens claim I walked into the fire with two eggs and emerged untouched with two
dragons. Do you think they'll demand Aegon does the same?''

It had been Ser Baelor's idea and a most inventive one at that. If people believed he'd hatched the
dragons due to some hidden knowledge, they wouldn't blame Aegon for failing to do the same. But
if Jae hatched them simply because he had Targaryen blood, well...

''You bastard!'' Oberyn growled.

Jae smirked. ''Don't the dornish accept bastards?'' he mused, ''I suppose now I know why. You're
all bastards yourselves.'' Oberyn watched him in silence as he got to his feet.

''You started this war to keep your blood on the Iron Throne, and now you'll pay the price. You'll
burn, every one of you. The Dragon's Wroth will be a joke before I'm finished.'' Jaehaerys growled
as he stalked around the fallen Prince of Dorne.

''Unbent, unbowed, unbroken,'' Oberyn hissed, his eyes following him.

''But not unburnt,'' Jae allowed a smirk. ''And I much prefer you all dead.'' That earned him a flinch
from Oberyn. ''You see, I've been thinking about this all wrong. I've been thinking small, like most
of my pathetic ancestors. I actually worried about how to politically maneuver Dorne back into the
fold.'' He barked a laugh. What a ridiculous notion.

He faced Oberyn then, allowed his thoughts to surface so Oberyn would see the malice in his eyes.
''You'll be my testing ground. You'll be the enemy I unite all of Westeros behind. You'll be the
threat that frightens the Lords into backing an army controlled directly by the Crown.''

''We will defend, but we won't attack. It'll never work!'' Oberyn went to lounge at him, but the
rattling chains kept him in place. He knows I have plans in place, that's why he looks so scared.

''Won't it?'' Jae asked idly. ''You dornish are so proud of your underhanded methods. When Lords
start dying like flies from poison, who will doubt me when I point the finger at you? All empires
are built on the bones of the defeated, Oberyn. You should be proud. The dornish are to be the
fertilizer that makes a New Valyria bloom.''

''You—you can't mean this,'' he shook his head, trying to convince himself to believe it.

''No? Why not?'' Jae raised an eyebrow. ''Is it all the death that I am supposed to worry about?'' he
snorted. ''Valyria burned millions, yet all anyone does these days is speak of its great achievements.
Do you think the elimination of your pesky desert fools too high a price to pay?'' He shrugged. ''I
suppose it doesn't matter since I can assure you my historians won't.''

''Why keep me alive then?'' Oberyn asked, his voice much calmer than Jae would've expected.

''Why, you'd be so useless to me dead. I can't be seen agitating for another war. These things must
come naturally; a call of fate, if you will. I'll take you to King's Landing instead. One day you'll
escape straight to the bottom of the Narrow Sea, while someone else goes on to do such terrible
things in your name. We'll see. I'm sure I'll think of something.'' He gave him an ugly smile. ''I do
hope your little scheme was worth it because it certainly worked for me.''

''I don't fear death,''

''Of course, you don't.'' Jae nodded as he completed his circle and sat back down on the barrel. ''The
world's a shit place. Men like you and I almost welcome the idea.'' He ran a hand through his hair
and pretended as though he'd been struck by an idea. ''Say, you've got eight daughters, don't you?''
Oberyn's eyes snapped to him. There's the weak spot. ''I heard some of them are formidable
warriors, yet none of them fought in your army. Wanted to keep them safe?''

''Jaehaerys...'' he said, and this time his desperation became evident.

''I don't mind death, not anymore. Men, women, children; when my soldiers go foraging and come
back with bloody blades, you think I ask them what happened?'' he shook his head. ''You sit here,
Prince of Dorne, and you think things through while I go kill that pretender of yours. When I come
back, we'll have this conversation again and I hope you'll remember the survival of your family
depends on your answers.''

With that, he left the tent, leaving a seething Oberyn behind, though Jae saw the sheer terror he
tried to hide. ''I gather he bought that, Your Grace?'' Ser Barristan asked as he fell into step with
Jae, having listened in on the conversation.

''We'll see,'' Jae muttered, his feet taking him back to his command tent where the rest of the
commanders had gathered. Oberyn had to see the futility of resistance. Let him picture Sunspear in
ashes for a few days. The Prince had to know times had changed; the Dornish have grown spoiled,
used to eating more than snakes and fruits. During Aegon's Conquest, they fought against an
invader. Should the same thing happen again, they would die for the folly of Martell's.

In spite of their words, I have to break them. Oberyn had to come to a place where he did not
consider burning just to spite Jae. The children, it's always the children. Jae had to remind him
what his death would mean for his precious Sand Snakes.

He heard the murmurs coming from the tent, two dozen Lords and knights bending over the maps
and discussing what might come in the following days. No one shouted or cursed those who
disagreed with him; the fools were all dead or back at Bitterbridge with Lord Fossoway.

They all bowed their heads when he entered, parting to allow him to make his way to the head of
the table, their eyes glued to Vermithor. He gently held the dragon and placed him on a perch one
of Baratheon's builders hastily constructed. He meant to have him present for every one of his war
councils in the future.

''My Lords,'' he nodded to the men and turned his eyes to Ser Arthur. ''Any news?''

''Tywin Lannister and the Pretender march south towards us. Seaguard's retaken, Royce
momentarily broken. They linked up at the Trident and now march for us. It'll be weeks before
they cross the Blackwater.'' Ser Arthur said, his eyes going to the map.

Jae nodded. There wasn't much to discuss except to give orders. ''With the addition of the
Baratheon forces, we have nearly thirty thousand able-bodied soldiers here, and sixty thousand
more at Bitterbridge.'' He looked around the assembly. ''Anyone have any inspired ideas besides
the obvious?''

''The obvious being marching straight at them for a re-enactment of the Battle of the Trident?'' Ser
Baelor asked with a slight smile.

''Indeed.''

The men looked down in thought, rubbing their beards and sipping their wine. Jae saw them
glancing at Vermithor, more interested in the dragon before them than the battle ahead. All but
Orys Baratheon. He stared at Jae as though unsure how to phrase his thoughts. Jae smiled at the
warrior, beaten and bruised and not even close to broken. ''Yes, Lord Baratheon?'' he asked.

The eyes of the men turned to him. Orys ran a hand over his face and said, ''When your father,
Prince Rhaegar, and my uncle Robert came to blows at the Trident, they both charged over the
river. They had no other choice, of course, but the fact remains they allowed bloody melee to win
the battle.''

Jae nodded for him to go on, knowing he had the attention of the other men as well.

''We are weeks away from the river ourselves, but our forces at Bitterbridge are not. They could
march ahead and prepare the battlefield.'' He raised a hand when many went to object. ''We cannot
know for certain where they will cross, but we can guess. I may not know myself, but I am sure
one of the reacher Lords must know how many crossings over the Blackwater rush there are.''

''Five bridges, and one ford where an army could cross,'' Ser Barristan spoke up, looking to Jae.
''Lord Orys is correct.''

''The smallfolk called it Death's Doorstep before Aegon's Conquest,'' Ser Arthur added, ''It's where
the armies of the Storm Kings and Ironborn went to slaughter each other every summer.''

''You believe Lord Tywin's aware of it?'' Lord Rowan asked.

''We should operate under the assumption he does,'' Jaehaerys muttered. It changed the game;
instead of hoping for a surprise they needed speed. Lord Tywin could send some of his men
ahead, but not in as great a numbers as I. Jae nodded, pictures forming in his mind. ''You propose
to send our men ahead, to destroy the bridges and erect defenses at the ford?''

''I do, Your Grace,'' Orys nodded. He glanced around the tent to gauge the reactions of the other
Lords.

''Lannister will learn of it. What's to stop him from wheeling his army to King's Landing and
crossing there?'' Lord Rowan asked.

''Nothing,'' Orys shrugged, ''But then we have a different battle. His Grace's forces will be able to
harass their army for the entirety of the march since we'll control the only crossing, while the main
army screens their movements. In the end, we'll still be waiting for them across the river.''

Jae wanted to giggle. ''Won't these defensive measures have us branded cowards?'' Ser Loras asked
in worry.

He shot the fool a sharp look. ''They'll have us branded wise. Aegon's the Pretender, he's the one
who has to prove his legitimacy, so he must be aggressive and rush straight into our loving arms.''

There were some chuckles around the tent as the Lords came to see the sense of his words. Jae sent
Ser Loras a look of warning. What's the use of a Kingsguard if he undercuts a brilliant strategy?

''Are we all in agreement with this plan?'' he asked.

''Aye, Your Grace,'' Ser Barristan nodded, the rest of them voicing their approval. Jae glanced at
the map again, if only to ensure no better possibility would occur to him.

''Sent word to Bitterbridge. Lord Fossoway is to move the entire army to the Blackwater Rush with
all haste, destroy all the bridges and erect defensive palisades. We march tomorrow.''

''Aye, Your Grace!''

 Chapter 29

A column of horsemen moved north, slithering forth across the landscape like a great serpent. The
sun beat down upon the army from a cloudless sky and only the strong winds that call the
Stormlands home kept them from sweating under their armor.

Five days of riding brought them to the edge of the Stormlands and within a day of the Grassy
Vale.

Meleys nipped his ear in irritation, sniffing the air. Jae laughed and fed her a piece of the ham he'd
been munching on. She purred and rubbed her head against his ear. Spoilt brat. Some of his men
had offered to make cages for the dragons so they might travel on horses, but Jae refused outright.
His dragons would never know confinement; no manacle would ever hold them back. They rode on
his shoulders instead, eyeing all those around him with great interest.

When a truly strong gust of wind swept through the army, they spread their wings and soared
through the air like kites only to quickly return to the safety of his shoulder. Jae rewarded them
with a piece of cooked meat every time. Though their intelligent eyes told him he'd never get them
to do his bidding through incentives alone, he decided it couldn't hurt.

Vermithor showed promise; he kept his eyes on the sky more than on the ground and took personal
offense to any bird that flew by as though enraged an animal would dare fly through his airspace.

He'll be dueling hawks before long. Poor hawks. The fight promised to be a one-sided affair if the
puffs of smoke he belched out now and then were of any indication. Fire made flesh. They smelled
like ash and smoke, sitting on his shoulder like the hot coals servants used to put in his bed to warm
up the sheets. He'd read all the Valyrian books on dragons still available in the Red Keep. He
knew they responded to High Valyrian, knew his blood earned him their cooperation, if not
their obedience.

So it confused him that there seemed to be another element to the connection he shared with them,
some bond at the back of his head he couldn't put his finger on. But he always felt it when he
looked into Vermithor's eyes. As though the baby dragon would listen to his verbal commands, but
essentially did not need them.

Go on, fly, he commanded, and the dragon spread his wings, flapping them until he rose into the
air. He'd have to grow some more, gain some muscle to achieve true flight because at present he
looked like a drunkard stumbling home from the brothel. Come back, and the dragon crashed more
than landed back on his shoulder.

Jaehaerys gently adjusted his place on his shoulder and looked forward, at the great expanse of
land before him; the rolling hills of the Stormlands were slowly beginning to give way to Reach
meadows and forests. He pictured the enemy that waited beyond. Aegon the Pretender and Tywin
Lannister.

''Has there been any word from Lady Olenna, Your Grace?'' Lord Orys asked from his side.

Jaehaerys rode at the head of the column, his Kingsguard behind him, and Orys took the place of
honor for the day. Jae had brought every one of his commanders to ride with him over the days, so
as to better gauge their moods.

''There has. She's agreed to my proposal. Every Lord in Aegon's army will be offered a full pardon
in exchange for submission, though I have little clue as to how she means to deliver the messages.''

Orys chuckled. ''If someone knows the way, I have no doubt it would be her, Your Grace.''

Jae smiled at the young Lord, and nodded in agreement. The morale in his army had never been
higher. Soldiers whispered Jae could not be defeated in battle, that he'd been sent by the Gods to
right the Realm. His commanders walked around with grins on their faces at the prospect of putting
an end to the war and enjoying the spoils of it.

It made it easy to spot the men who found themselves less than pleased with the latest
developments. Oh, they'd all been awed and amazed when Jae first revealed the existence of
dragons, but the excitement settled down in the days since and given them a chance to think.

Jae did not know how to deal with a problem when it originated deep in men's souls. How do you
get an ambitious man to renounce his ambition? Even if he tried, they would not trust him. They
played the waiting game now, and they'd think he only wanted to stall them.

This is their last chance. If I win the war; hell, if I only survive another year or two, the dragons
will grow so large they will put an end to the discussion. Jae could tell them they'd always have a
voice at his Court and promise their leal service would never go unrewarded. It wouldn't solve
anything; not when he could base his decisions on whim rather than external pressure.

Treachery will come. He had no doubt about it. He could smell it in the air. Perhaps I should've
waited. He did not even consider it before, the negative implications of hatching dragons. That's
because I wasn't even sure it would work!

''Do you believe it will drive discord in their camp?'' Orys spoke up again as he grabbed a cantine
from his saddle and took a sip.

''Depends.'' Jae shrugged. ''If they're stupid, they'll make their opinions known. If they're smart,
they'll keep quiet and wait for a chance to strike.'' Just like the men in my camp. Gods, how I wish
for idiots. Most battles are decided through some form of treachery; Lords turn on their
commanders, retreat when it's crucial they advance. Jae's Lords undoubtedly knew it, more than
aware they held him by the balls for the last time. After the coming battle, Jae would be free to
disregard their opinions and compel cooperation through other means.

My defensive measures will be useless if an entire flank welcomes the Lannisters across the
river. He could prepare for it. He could win in spite of it. But he had to know who would betray
him first.

''Just the tense atmosphere should go a long way, I suppose,'' Lord Orys mused and gave Jae a
meaningful look. Yes, he sees it too.

He would have liked to think the footsoldiers would not go along with the commands of their
commanders if they gave the order to betray Jae. Their awe-struck looks gave him hope, but little
more. They had obedience beat into them since infancy; they'd obey the order first and consider its
implications later.

Hope remained his one great weapon. The war was not yet won, so every knight in his army still
expected to achieve great deeds and reap still greater rewards. No, only his Lords truly worried
him. 'You'd be surprised how many Lords prefer their Kings brave and stupid.'. Did the prospect of
supporting Aegon suddenly seem enticing? A pretender on the Iron Throne, one fully reliant on
their support. They could extract a great many concessions from Aegon, and very few from
Jae. Not when I have dragons at my side. Not when another Field of Fire can be one insult away.
Have I become too powerful, too quickly? He could guess away until he drove himself mad, or
perhaps there existed a method to draw out any potential traitor. He had no other choice. He moved
against Tywin Lannister now, a man fully aware of his shortcomings in the martial arena. If he
can't beat me on the field of battle, he'll exploit another weakness.

He gave Lady Olenna his blessing to drive discord into the rebel camp, though it probably won't
work. Tywin Lannister kept an iron grip on those around him, quashing rebellions before they
began. I have to do the same. If Olenna could get messages into the rebel camp, then Tywin could
get messages into his.

''Say, Lord Orys, what is the mood among your Lords?'' he asked as he took another bite of his
ham.

''What do you mean, Your Grace?'' Orys eyed him warily.

''Would you say most are happy to support me, or merely consider me the lesser evil?''

''If you're asking for any hints of plots, Your Grace, I can't say I detected any,'' Orys cut through the
chatter, adjusting his neck-brace nervously. He thinks I remember Robert Baratheon.

''Oh, no, nothing so nefarious, Lord Orys,'' Jae tried to calm him. ''I'm merely asking what might be
going through their minds, especially now that dragons have returned.''

''I couldn't say for certain, Your Grace.''

''Guess, then.'' Jae shot him a smile to lessen the severity of his pressure.

Orys took another sip from his cantine, to buy himself time to think, and said, ''Lord Swann is here
because he expects us to win, I'm sure. By the time I defeated him at Summerhall, word had come
of your victory at Black Tree. He gave up on his dream of Storm's End and decided fighting on the
winning side would be his consolation prize. I still expect to have to watch over him for the rest of
my life, though.''

''Hmm,'' Jaehaerys nodded. Perfect. ''And who would you say is the greatest supporter among your
bannermen?''

''Lord Buckler, Your Grace, though my betrothal to his only daughter might have something to do
with it.'' Orys rolled his eyes, and Jae could picture a lone bootlicker in a sea of traitors.

He laughed, remembering how many times he felt the same annoyance about the primitive
motivations of these noblemen. ''And who would you say is the willow of the bunch? Who might
lean in either direction if the situation called for it?''

Orys frowned but did not balk at the question. He rubbed his chin and thought it through. ''Lord
Mertyns, I should say. A reserved man, no one quite knows what he's thinking. My father once said
he only has to check if Lord Mertyns is nodding along to his words to know if his proposal earned
the approval of his bannermen.''

A political animal, then. They might be thrown off if he starts making avert moves. Then again,
they might be emboldened by it.

''May I ask why you want to know, Your Grace?'' Orys asked him. He held the reins of his horse so
tights, Jae feared they might snap.

''I have a job for wise Lord Mertyns.'' Jae murmured. ''Tell him to meet me this evening, but make
sure no one else learns of it. Understood?''

''Aye, Your Grace,'' Orys gave him a nod. Now that he knew a plot was afoot, he seemed to require
no further explanation. Good man. ''I'll send one of my men, though the meeting might have to take
place in the middle of the night.''

''Very well,'' Jae said, and they rode on in silence. He had no need to charm Lord Orys, or entice
him with promises. He had Storm's End, and Jae remained his only hope of keeping it. It made
matters rather simple, and Jae appreciated an afternoon off.

But Lord Orys surprised him. ''Your Grace,'' he asked, biting his lip. ''I'm told—I'm told you were
there when—when my father died.''

Jae's eyes snapped to him. He hadn't talked to Orys about it, hadn't even thought about it. Fool. ''I
was.''.

''Did—Did he die well?'' Orys mustered up the courage to look him in the eye.

''Aye,'' Jae gave Orys an encouraging nod. ''Never saw anything quite like it, to be honest. Even the
strongest men tend to break right before the end, but your father... he never wavered. Never
doubted he was doing the right thing, never doubted you.'' Jae huffed in amusement. ''Though I
have to say you may have exceeded even his expectations.''

Orys flushed and averted his eyes. ''That was all him, Your Grace. I only gave the orders.''

''What do you mean?''

''We rode all across the Stormlands when I was little,'' his eyes lit up at the memory, a smile
playing upon his lips. ''He'd often make us stop in the middle of nowhere, come up with a battle
scenario and demand I tell him how I'd react. We must've gone over a thousand different battles
just by talking; one for every field, every hill, and every forest in the Stormlands.'' He laughed to
himself.

''When I heard my rebel bannermen gathered around Summerhall or the reports of the dornish
invasion, it seemed...'' he shrugged, as though he unsure how to explain it. ''It seemed as if I'd done
it before. The maneuvers, the orders... I just had to repeat his words.''

Jae stared at him, at the fond look in his eyes. The safety, the assurance... to have a Father who not
only cares but takes the time to prepare you for any obstacles in your way. Who could ever harm
Lord Orys within his own lands?

He swallowed the thoughts as something occurred to him. ''This plan you've put forth. Another one
of your father's?''

''Aye, Your Grace. We went over it many times. He wanted to have one in place in case
Connington got any ideas. Said he'd defend his people but never move against the capital unless
Your Grace rebelled.''

''Did he expect me to?''

''He expected someone to push you into it,'' he gave a wry smile, ''Beg your pardon, Your Grace,
but Father thought Your Grace too idealistic to realize you have to bury some people to get a
chance at peace.''

Jae snorted. He wasn't wrong. He wished he'd gotten to know the man better, but then he'd been
just another Lord to appease. You wish you'd get a taste of what he was to Orys, not what he'd be to
you. ''I get the feeling half my problems would disappear if he'd come and told me what he
thought.''

Orys laughed, shaking his head. Jae shot him a curious look. ''He wanted to, you see,'' he explained.
''But Mother told him to hold his tongue.''

''Ahh—held him back, did she?''

''Father... Father wasn't the best when it came to politics.'' Orys admitted. ''Mother handled that
side, helped him keep the peace.''

''Sounds like a formidable Lady.''

''She is,'' Orys nodded in agreement in the way that all sons with formidable mother's do. ''The
bannermen might've feared my father's blade in battle, but it was my mother who made sure they
didn't even consider it.''

''You must bri—'' he fell silent when a lone rider emerged from a forest in the distance. ''Swords!''
he commanded, Blackfyre sailing out of its sheath.

Orys and his Kingsguard followed, the tension spreading down the column. Jae watched the lone
rider, watched the banner he carried. Mayhaps he came with news from Grassy Vale, mayhaps he's
got a thousand swords chasing him.

The rider gave a single wave and they all relaxed. A message, then. He galloped all the way to Jae
before he came to a stop, the hoofs of his horse sliding on the grass. ''Your Grace, a message from
Lady Meadows.'' He said, bowing in his saddle.

''Tell me,''

''Lord Tarly has reached the main force a day into their march to the Blackwater. He begs report he
guarantees they'll reach it before the Lannisters.''

''Excellent,'' Jae gave him a nod and the man rode down the line.

''We should reach them in about four days, Your Grace. Three, if we pick up the tempo.'' Ser
Barristan spoke up from behind him.

''And so we shall. There are some things I have to do.'' He couldn't well execute his scheme on the
eve of the battle. ''Speed up to a trot. We ride until nightfall.'' He gave his horse a light kick as the
order sped down the column.

''Your Grace, may I ask you one question?'' Orys asked as he matched his rhythm.

''Of course.''

''What do you mean to do with Tyrion Lannister?''

''That's not the right question, Lord Orys.''

''What is, then?''

''What do you mean to do with Tyrion Lannister.''

O-O-O
Dusk had fallen by the time he came upon a surprising sight as he rode into the Grassfield Keep,
the home of House Meadows. He was exhausted, and on edge, and the gaggle of Lords that greeted
him filled him with nothing but foreboding and annoyance.

The townspeople of the Grassy Vale had all come out to see the King, lining the streets as they
cheered his victorious army. Maidens threw flowers in their path, old men bowed as they passed
and mothers wept in the knowledge that their fears could be laid to rest. Glimpses of the dragons
upon his shoulders elicited stunned silence, praises to the Gods and a few screams of fright.

Jae saw little of it, too busy scanning rooftops and windows for any sign of crossbowmen hoping to
kill him. His Kingsguard pressed tightly all around him, Ser Arthur whispering as they rode,
''Remember Fireball, remember to fear the unknown hero.''

And now, the majority of the Reacher Lords knelt before him on the ground of the courtyard, the
entire household of the Castle behind them, or on the ramparts that ran above it. People peeked
through every window and around every corner for a chance to see him.

Jaehaerys dismounted his horse and approached the Lady Meadows, eyeing Lord Tyrell that knelt
beside her. His eyes trailed down the line of Lords; Caswell, Merryweather, Redwyne, Norridge,
Beesbury, Chester and on it went. At least a dozen of them had come to Grassfield Keep to greet
him, and they all peered up from their place on their knees to catch a glimpse of the dragons. Now I
know what they're doing here. Margaery was the lone figure on her feet, standing next to Lady
Meadows. One look from Jae and her smile turned brittle.

''Rise,'' he commanded. Lady Meadows faced him; a tall, dark woman with dark hair and darker
eyes, she wore all black in mourning of her husband who'd died at the Battle of Black Tree.

''My lady,'' Jae murmured and took her outstretched hand. He placed a gentle kiss on knuckles and
said, ''I would like to express my condolences for the death of your Lord Husband. He was a brave
man, who fought until the very end. Know that your family shall always find help at my Court, for
his service to House Targaryen will never be forgotten.''

''I thank you, Your Grace,'' she said and curtsied, though her demeanor lacked the sadness and
fragility one expects to find in a widow. She did not blink when Meleys hissed at her. Formidable.

He moved on to Margaery next. ''My Queen,'' he said, but could not even muster a smile. ''I trust
you are well?''

''I am, Your Grace,'' she said with a beaming smile, more for the crowd than Jae. Her eyes jumped
between Vermithor and his face the entire time. ''And pleased to see you so hale and healthy after
your battles.''

Jae nodded and gave a perfunctory kiss to her hand. He turned to the rest of the Lords then and
they all froze under his gaze. I think it just occurred to them they made a mistake, though they do
not know how big one yet.

''My Lords,'' he said, ''My commanders are tired and in need of rest. I trust we can reconvene for a
council in an hour or two?''

They bowed their heads and murmured their assent, as though they had a bloody choice. Away
from their men and at my mercy, could it get any better?

He turned around and called, ''Kingsguard, Lord Baratheon, with me!'' He walked on without a
backward glance, the people parting for him with bowed heads. He spied Lady Olenna by the
entrance to the Keep, eyeing him with a peculiar expression.

''My Lady,'' he nodded, ''Would you mind joining me?''

''And the Queen?'' she bit out, hobbling toward him with her cane.

''Of course,'' Jae smiled to diffuse the tension. He felt a hundred eyes on his skin. He turned around
and said, ''My love. Care to join us?''

''Of course, Your Grace.'' Margaery smiled, full of relief as the discreet glances aimed in her
direction withered away.

''Your Grace,'' Lady Meadows spoke up as she also approached. ''Chambers have been prepared for
you. I can lead you to them if you like?''

How many protocols have I disregarded exactly? ''Of course, my Lady, forgive my lack of
manners. I'm afraid after weeks and weeks of being surrounded by only soldiers, seeing my
beautiful Queen so unexpectedly has turned me into a fool.''

The men around him laughed, as men do when a King makes a joke, but Margaery did not miss the
hidden message, nor Lady Olenna.

Lady Meadows nodded and led them through the Keep, past the Great Hall, and up the stairs to the
family wing of the Castle. They passed half-a-dozen doors before Lady Meadows came to a stop
and said, ''This chamber has been prepared for you, Your Grace.'' She gestured to the first door.
''And this is the one where you may conduct your council meetings.'' She pointed out the next.

''I thank you, my Lady, you are too kind.'' She nodded, curtsied and strode off.

''After me,'' Jae said after she disappeared and led them into the study. Most of the decorations
seemed to have been removed; all that remained was one large table with the map of the South. The
fire crackled in the hearth, and a portrait of Lord Meadows hung off the wall. Apparently they
carried off his table, along with all the chairs. Even the bookshelves laid empty.

As Ser Arthur closed the door behind him, Jae turned to the little group he gathered. Margaery
looked anxious, Olenna pissed, while Orys and his knights wore looks of dire anticipation.

''Lord Orys, you are to approach Lord Mertyns immediately. He's to come to me before the
council.''

''Aye, Your Grace,'' Lord Orys nodded and made to leave, but Jae stopped him in his tracks.

''Just because we are in a hurry doesn't mean we're allowed to be sloppy. Send Lord Buckler's
squire to approach Lord Mertyns; that should keep the suspicion off. Meanwhile, you go to the
Maester of the Castle to enquire about any messages. If anyone asks, that's why I demanded you
join me. Understood?''

Orys nodded, his hand on the hilt of his sword, and left the room. When the door closed behind
him, he turned to Olenna and Margaery. ''Care to explain what so many commanders of my army
are doing here, welcoming me?''

''Trying to catch a glimpse of the dragons,'' Margaery spoke the words Jae expected to come from
Lady Olenna. One glance at the Queen of Thorns and he knew their latest approach; if the
fluttering eyelashes didn't elicit love, and if the fucking didn't elicit enough lust, then we shall have
to hope usefulness earns respect. ''Lord Fossoway was most supportive of the idea.''
That made him pause. Fossoway supported the idea? A lopsided grin spread across his face. Oh, he
could just picture Fossoway, tired after weeks of herding the sheep, jumping at the chance to get
rid of fools and keep only the useful commanders with his army. ''How much trouble did your
father give him about being in overall command of the army?''

''Loads,'' Margaery smiled, ''But he calmed eventually after it was suggested one of your dragons
might sneeze his way if he didn't back down.''

Jae laughed and nodded. He turned to his unofficial Spymaster. ''What's the situation with the
North and the Vale?'' he asked Lady Olenna.

''Stark broke the wildling army. They scattered back into the frozen wasteland they call home, but
he'll never get south in time for the battle.'' Olenna said, sounding bored. ''Royce, on the other
hand, is trapped in the Vale.''

''Trapped in the Vale?'' Ser Barristan asked. ''How can that be?''

''It seems the Pretender got the bright idea that choke-points work both ways. He left five thousand
men behind and armed the clans from the Mountains of the Moon to the teeth. The Knights of the
Vale shan't sally forth to glory any time soon.''

''Then we fight we the army we have,'' Ser Arthur spoke up. ''With the men under Lord Fossoways
command, our army numbers nearly ninety thousand, whereas the Pretender should have around
—''

''—Ninety thousand men,'' Olenna cut in, her eyes on Jae the entire time. ''This battle-plan of yours
that everyone's talking about better work wonders. Or should we expect one of these lizards to turn
into the Black Dread by tomorrow?''

Meleys and Vermithor did not appreciate the comparison. They hissed and snapped in her direction
and for the first time both belched out a puff of smoke. The Queen of Thorns flinched only to then
try and hide her reaction by smoothing out her skirt.

Jae smiled dangerously, the fire in his chest burning away any hesitation. I am a dragon! His
expression seemed to unsettle Olenna more than his dragons. ''You doubt me still, my Lady?'' he
murmured quietly.

''No—no, of course not,'' she hurried to pacify him. I've never seen her like this before. Good. ''But
you must see the cause of my concern.''

''I do not, as it happens,'' Jae replied as he reached up to his shoulders. Meleys and Vermithor
crawled into his hands and he gently placed them onto the table. ''Tywin and Aegon will both be
dead this time next week, if only you do your job.''

''And what's that?'' Margaery perked up.

''Tell me, who looked less than pleased after word came of the return of dragons?'' he asked, eyeing
them both, wondering if he could even trust these Ladies who called themselves his family. The
last time a Lady of the Reach married into House Targaryen, we got the Dance.

''No one, Your Grace,'' Margaery wished to assure him, ''The news was accepted with great
celebration!''

''Mhmm,'' Jae nodded and turned his expectant eyes to Olenna who looked less than pleased by
Margaery's blunder.
''Redwyne. Redwyne most of all. I can't be sure who agrees with him.'' Olenna said with some
hesitation, knowing perfectly well what conclusion Jae would reach.

Because he's in Tywin Lannister's pocket. Because he means to betray me. Jae had threatened to
murder his son, so it did not surprise him too much. Redwyne couldn't hope to find any favor in
Jae's Court after the war.

A good thing the battle-plan did not have to remain secret. In fact, it's even better this way. If Tywn
thought one of his traitors went unnoticed, he'd fight them at Death's Doorstep, counting on
treachery to carry the day. And therein lies my opportunity.

''Very well. Dismissed.'' He said and turned to his Kingsguard.

Margaery went to leave, but Olenna stayed in place. ''What's this about Mertyns?''

''Nothing that need concern you, my Lady.'' He said, and added, ''Though if I should hear even a
whisper about him outside this chamber, know that I will be most... displeased.''

Olenna stared at him for many moments. ''Seems blood and battle have made you into a proper
King,'' she gave a nod, looking him up and down. ''Good. We may survive this yet.''

The two of them walked out of the chambers together. Margaery shot him a small smile over her
shoulder, and he found himself returning it. He didn't have a chance to think about it earlier, but her
presence meant he'd have someone to keep him company through the night.

''Find me two dozen of your most capable, most loyal men,'' he told the Kingsguard when they
were left alone. ''They will guard the dragons every moment I'm not with them, and one of you
shall be there to command them.''

''Aye, Your Grace.'' Ser Barristan bowed, ''It shall be done.''

''Good,'' he leaned over the table with a huff and watched Meleys crawl over the map. Is she
pretending to fly over Westeros? ''Now if you don't mind, can someone bring me a chair and find
the Steward so we may eat a hot meal?''

''I'll do both, Your Grace.'' Ser Barristan said and left. Jae nodded and stepped from the table; his
legs were stiff from the riding and his back cracked when he pushed his hips forward. He sighed
and ran a hand through his hair. ''All this conquering business is quite tiring, wouldn't you agree?''

''Aye, Your Grace,'' Ser Arthur nodded. Ser Loras regarded him with a blank look on his face.

''Something the matter Ser Loras?''

Loras staring at him in silence, and only glanced once at Ser Arthur. Ah, so he wants to say
something that might earn him a thrashing in the practice ring. ''Go on,''

''Did Your Grace have to spurn my sister like that in the courtyard?'' he erupted in spite of himself.

''Ser Loras!'' Arthur hissed. ''You've no right to question the King!''

''How about my brother-in-law?''

Impudent little shit. ''Your Grace,'' Ser Arthur said, ''Ser Loras is tired. I beg permission to dismiss
him for the day.''

''In a minute,'' Jae held up his hand. He had no intention of revealing his true thoughts, but he
couldn't let this fester. ''I was displeased because Margaery disobeyed my direct orders. I was
displeased because she's walked into a dangerous situation. I was displeased because my wife has
chosen to put herself at risk and I worry for her. Does that satisfy your curiosity?'' Jae growled the
last question and Loras nearly took a step back.

''But—But Tywin Lannister can't get to her here,'' he said, suddenly uncertain, looking to Arthur
for support. ''Why would she be in danger?''

''It's not Tywin Lannister I'm worried about.''

''Lord Mertyns,'' Ser Loras breathed in dawning realization. ''You fear she might end caught up in
the scheme you mean to execute with him?''

Jae nodded, eyeing Ser Loras in interest. He knew he had the boy's absolute loyalty as long as he
did right by the Tyrell's. As long as he thinks me in love with his sister.

''If I may ask, Your Grace, what are you planning to do?'' Ser Loras asked, trying not to wring his
hands as he did his best to retain his posture under the combined glares of Jae and Ser Arthur.

''Why, I mean to murder a couple of Lords. You don't mind, do you?''

 Chapter 30

''Jaehaerys, I'm sorry! I'm so sorry!'' Margaery assaulted him the second he entered their
bedchamber. She tried to throw herself in his arms but stopped short when she found Meleys and
Vermithor on his shoulders and in her way.

''It's alright,'' Jae held up his hand to halt her as he walked inside. Their chamber was small enough,
only a four-poster bed inside, a table sitting at the opposite wall and a small settee at the foot of the
bed. They had a balcony that overlooked the keep, and a glazed door that led to it.

He walked to the table and laid his dragons upon it. Rest, and don't murder Margaery while she
sleeps. The two dragons gave him a look Jae had come to regard as understanding and buried their
heads beneath their wings. They're as tired as I am.

He turned around to face his wife and she wasted no time in throwing herself in his arms. ''I didn't
know, Jaehaerys,'' she moaned into his shoulder. ''Loras told me you're up to something and I didn't
want to come, but Grandmother demanded it.''

You're a Queen, Jaehaerys wanted to say, I'm the only one who can make demands of you. He held
his tongue. Lady Olenna must've seen the folly of their arrival and told Margaery to put all the
blame on her, so Margaery might stay in Jae's good graces. He had no doubt his wife wanted to
come as much as the rest of the foolish Reacher Lords, eager to bask in the glow of being married
to a future dragon rider.

Is this what a political marriage is supposed to look like? Where's my Alyssane to tell me to shut
up? He saw a flash of silver hair and amethyst eyes and blinked to dispell the vision. Gods know
where she is, Gods know what they've done to her. A furnace lit up in his chest as Margaery pulled
back from his arms. If I find so much as a single hair out of place, I'll murder the lot of them.

''It's alright,'' he repeated, favoring Margaery with a tired smile.

''We'll leave tomorrow,'' she said, voice verging on frantic. ''Me and Grandmother, we'll leave and
you'll have nothing to worry about.'' Good to know Loras told them everything.

''No,'' Jae shook his head as he approached the bed and took off his doublet. ''You're far more
vulnerable on the road. You'll stay here and I'll do what I can to protect you.''

She nodded. ''Here, let me help you with that,'' she murmured as she appeared at his back. She
helped him take off his doublet, even unlaced his breeched and slid them down his legs with a
mischievous look on her face.

''You are incorrigible, darling,'' he huffed down at her.

''Well,'' she purred as she stood up. ''I have missed my husband.'' She whispered in his ear.

''Your husband's been riding for days. I do hope the reunion can be postponed until the morning.''
He said, even as he grabbed her around the waist and lifted her into the air. He carried her to the
bed and landed on top of her. Both of them laughed and he couldn't help but pepper her cheeks and
neck with kisses.

Just the chance to hug someone, to let loose and drop his mask worked like a balm to his soul. ''Are
you sure?'' Margaery giggled.
''Not entirely,'' he murmured but rolled off of her all the same. She rolled onto her side and he
helped her get rid of her corset and her dress. They ended up lying in their bed, both wearing
nothing but smallclothes. Jae held her close and fell asleep with his face buried in the crook of her
neck.

''Jaehaerys,'' he heard a moan and he shot up in bed. ''What?'' he demanded, ''What's happened?''

His bleary eyes cleared to find only Margaery in bed next to him, naked as the day she was born.
She looked startled by his reaction, but a look of understanding appeared on her face in the end.
''It's all right,'' she said. She put her hand on his chest and pushed him back down into the bed.
''Your wife is going to pleasure you now.'' She moaned as her hands trailed down to his crotch. ''No
enemies to fight, only a pretty young lady to fuck.''

She took his cock in hand and gently began to stroke it. Weeks in the camp made him ready in a
matter of moments and Margaery straddled his lap. They came face to face, her lips brushing
against his as she guided his length to her entrance. ''I'm your Queen,'' she moaned as she lowered
herself down on his length. ''Let me take care of you.''

He groaned as her warm core enveloped his length. She slowly began to move up and down his
cock, her eyes lock with his the entire time. He could not take the slow torture. He put his hands on
her hips and rolled over so he ended up on top. Margaery gasped as his shaft hit new depths and
wrapped her legs around him as he began to pump his cock inside her eager cunt.

He was a madman; driven to insanity by her soft skin, her smooth smell, and her eagerness. The
cold, the desperation, and the hunger shone in stark contrast to her honeyed lips, her soft hands and
the heels of her feet, pressing against lower back, demanding he go deeper.

He lost himself inside her, nibbling on her ear, licking her neck with abandon and meeting her lips
in sloppy kisses. Only her scream woke him from his stupor as she trembled beneath him and he
thanked the Gods she enjoyed it, for he wasn't sure he would've noticed if she hadn't.

She pushed him off of him and the fear that he'd done something unforgivable returned, only to
dissipate when she went on all fours and arched her back. She looked over her shoulder, her
famous smirk in place. ''I thought we might try something new.''

Jae had to take her word for it. He didn't have much chance to consider their sex life and its lack of
diversity, though he had no complaint with her taking charge. He waddled toward her on his knees,
pushing his length between her legs. His hands roamed over the soft skin of her butt-cheeks and up
her back. He moved his hands beneath her arms to her breasts and raised her up until his chest
pressed against her back. He wanted to feel her, all of her, he wanted to feel something.

He slipped inside her with nary a thought and they both moaned in unison, Jae kissing the back of
her neck as he slowly began to push in and out of her. Little by little, the madness returned and he
found a hungry beast where his reason ought to stay. He put his hand on the back of her head and
pushed down, burying her face in the sheets. His hands went to her hips and he started to fuck her
with no mercy, Margaery's fingers gripping the sheets so hard her knuckles turned white, only the
pillows muffling her screams.

He didn't last long; the ripples on her skin from his thrusts, her delighted moans and the feel of her
warm embrace proved too much as he unloaded inside her with a cry of his own. He shuddered at
the feel of it and all but collapsed back onto his back, more himself than he felt in weeks.

Margaery crawled into his arms and he kissed her forehead lovingly, seeing her in an entirely
different light. Must be the orgasm talking. But she did prove herself devoted to him, regardless of
her pride and political aspirations. Is there a maiden in the Realm that doesn't have
them? Margaery had the political acumen, and the devotion to him that ensured she worked with
him on his path.

It was her expression that surprised him, though. She did not look satisfied, did not wear a look of
pure bliss as he expected her to. She looked worried instead. Mayhaps this was more of a one-sided
affair than I thought.

''Jaehaerys, I need to tell you something.'' She murmured, her face buried in his chest.

''What?'' he asked, and cold fear gripped him. What has she done? He rose up to lean into the
pillows, but Margaery only hid her face further. ''What is it?''

''I—I cannot bear children,'' she murmured, her eyes still hidden. Jae froze, his entire body went
stiff. She finally looked up at him with tearful eyes. ''Grandmother didn't want me to tell you but...
after you left, I felt sick for a couple of weeks. We thought I was pregnant, only one day... I was
very ill. When the Maester examined me, he said I lost the baby. Said I would never be able to bear
children. He said I'll be barren for the rest of my life.'' She sobbed.

Tears streamed down her face, but it was her eyes that took him off-guard. She looked terrified, oh-
so terrified. She thinks I'll set her aside, forget her in an instant. The look on her face when he
spurned her in the courtyard, her smile when she realized her presence at the Keep did not please
him. It all became startlingly clear.

He rolled on top of her and demanded, ''Who knows?!''

''No one,'' she responded, only from more tears to sprout from her eyes. ''Me and Grandmother.''

''And the Maester?''

''Grandmother slit his throat the moment he told us,'' she said, her hands gripping his arms as
though she feared he'd leave at any moment, pulling him close while she still had the chance.

''Good,'' Jae replied instead, and she froze. ''You will tell no one. No one, you hear me! Not until I
tell you so.'' She nodded, terrified of him. He brushed the hair off her face, wiped the tears from her
cheeks. ''You are my Queen, you understand? You will be my Queen until the day I die. Nothing
will change that.''

''B—But Jaehaerys, I can't bear—''

''I'll find another way. I always do.'' He smiled down at her and kissed her lips softly. ''But you'll
remain by my side until I'm dead. My Queen. The woman who'll rule the Seven Kingdoms with
me, just like her grandmother taught her.''

She did not know what to say, but Jae saw the raw hope in her eyes, dreaming beyond belief that he
meant what he said. ''Are—Are you sure?''

''I've never been more sure of anything in my life,'' Jae smiled down at her, and the fear
disappeared from her expression. ''The ability to bear children does not make a Queen. Character
does, even if you still have some things to learn.'' He chuckled and she gave a breathless laugh.
''You understand?'' he asked, and she nodded. He peppered her face with kisses. ''Your King asked
a question; do you understand?''

She laughed, a beaming smile upon her face. ''I understand, Jaehaerys.''
''Now, then,'' he slid his hand down her body and spread her legs. ''As much I'd like another go at
it, I think you have something to tell your Grandmother, don't you?''

She bit her lip and considered it for a few moments. She sighed in the end and nodded. ''I suppose
you're right, but I expect you to make it up to me another time.'' She laughed as she wiped the last
of her tears from her face.

''I'll try my best,'' he said as he rolled off her. Margaery got up from the bed, wrapped but a cloak
about her and left his chambers.

So they kept it from me, he sighed as he watched her go, though it mattered little. They thought
themselves cornered, with little choice. That much I can forgive. Yes, Jaehaerys could understand,
and he could forgive.

He laid back in bed and sighed. This changed things, presented an entirely different set of
challenges. Gods knew how she truly reacted, how much of her sadness she tried to keep at bay. He
rolled over and sat the edge of the bed, the sun peeking over the horizon in the distance. He stood
up and approached the glazed doors; in the castle below, the servants and the squires already went
about their duties. He imagined things looked much the same in the sea of tents outside the castle
walls.

A knock came on the door. ''Come in,'' he called, putting a night robe around his shoulders.

A maid peeked through the crack. ''Your squire is here, Your Grace. He asks if you're ready for the
day.''

''Send him in,'' Jae nodded as he walked to the settee where his breeches laid. ''And have someone
bring me some breakfast. Some ham and bread will do.''

''Aye, Your Grace,'' she nodded and left, leaving the door open for Lucas.

The boy came in, two men trailing behind him with Jae's armor and clothes. The boy carried
Blackfyre himself. ''Put it right there,'' he pointed to the place by the desk. ''Very good. Dismissed.''

The two men, confused that they were being ordered about by a boy twenty years their junior,
looked to Jae for confirmation. He gave it, nodding to them with a smile.

''I see command suits you, Lucas,'' he said after the men left.

The boy had the sense to look sheepish, shuffling his feet. ''I needed some help. I hope I didn't
over-step, Your Grace.''

''Not at all,'' Jae said as he put on his tunic. ''They obeyed first and wondered about it afterward.
You'll make a fine Lord someday.''

''Thank you, Your Grace,'' Lucas kept his eyes on the ground as he began to disassemble the armor.
''I polished and scoured your plate and mail yesterday, Your Grace, so it should be in fine
condition.''

''I leave it in your capable hands,'' Jae smiled down at him as they went through the process of
putting on armor once more. Their many repetitions meant Lucas had him ready to face a horde of
Dothraki in ten minutes flat.

Jae ate his little sandwich as he walked down to the courtyard, his Kingsguard and Lord Orys
flanking him, Meleys and Vermithor flanking his head. Lady Olenna intercepted him on the way.
''I do not like to be kept in the dark.'' He told her as she struggled to keep up with his pace.

''I understand that, Your Grace.'' She said though he could find little remorse in her voice. ''We only
meant to wait until the end of the war.''

''I'm sure,'' Jae murmured as they came into the courtyard. His commanders were all already on
their horses, and ready to go, their attendants and squires waiting anxiously for the march to begin
anew. He stopped and faced her, ''Is there something you'd like to tell me?''

She tapped her cane on the ground and looked around for any sign of prying ears. There were
many with the opportunity, but most were too busy to listen in. ''Whatever you're doing with... a
certain Lord, Redwyne has fallen for it, Rowan and Caswell too.'' Rowan and Caswell? It appears
my little alliance worked better than I thought.

''And the rest?''

''Some wanted to sit back and see if they can pull it off, others wanted to warn you. The latter have
been told to keep their mouth shut.''

''Good.'' He leaned closer to her and murmured, ''I trust you know me to be your best option,
regardless of the latest... developments?''

''We've always known that, Your Grace,'' Lady Olenna replied, with a tremor in her voice. ''I
understand the optics of the revelation, in light of other developments, but we were neither aware
of them nor complicit in them.''

''And the involvement of your Great-Nephew? Are you capable of sitting by and watch him
stumble to his doom?''

''I am a Tyrell first. The boy should've known better.''

Jae leaned back to examine the old Lady, searching for any hint of treachery in her countenance.
Finding nothing he could declare suspicious, he nodded as Margaery came to join them. ''You will
both stay here until the fighting is done, and I expect you to obey this time.'' He couldn't help but
smile when he saw Lady Olenna's mutinous expression. Still a wild child at heart.

''Of course, Your Grace,'' Margaery smiled as she curtsied.

''Very good,'' he approached his wife and gave her a light kiss. It did not go unnoticed by the nobles
around. ''I will send word when there are developments.''

She nodded and wiped away an errant tear that escaped down her cheeks. ''Be well, my King.''

''And you, my Queen.''

He strode into the middle of the courtyard where Lucas already waited for him with his steed and
mounted up. Most of the Reacher Lords who'd come for a chance to see dragons were also already
mounted, with one peculiar absence. ''Where's Lord Tyrell?'' he asked no one in particular.

He got his answer when the fat man blundered into the courtyard, red-faced and panting. His
doublet was only half-buttoned, his armor nowhere in sight. ''Your Grace,'' he exclaimed, trying to
catch his breath. ''I was under the impression Court would be held during breakfast.'' He said. More
like, I was under the impression a little war wouldn't get in the way of comfort.

''Court? We march to battle, Lord Tyrell, there's no time for such things.'' Lady Olenna snorted in
derision and hobbled away as Jae gave the man an appraising look. ''But feel free to take as long as
you like. I'm sure you'll catch up.''

''Catch up?'' Mace looked up at him in confusion.

Jae did not deign to answer his question. He clicked his tongue and the entire courtyard sprang into
movement as one, riding out of Grassfield Keep in rows of two, the rest of the army already
waiting outside, mounted and ready to go.

O-O-O

Over the next five days, the anticipation in the army slowly increased. The boasting and the jesting
quietened down and men looked to the horizon, grim-faced. Jae's mood matched theirs, though for
different reasons. He did not mind a death on the battlefield. It was an honorable way to go, one fit
for a dragon.

The thought of dying because of treachery, on the other hand, filled him with such a cold rage he
could barely control himself. Even his dragons felt it as they grew agitated and snapped at anyone
who got too close.

Men die in battle. It can happen a thousand different ways, few of them in his control. Errant
arrows, a slip in the mud, a tactical mistake – he made his peace with it. But dying because he'd
been outsmarted, that one he'd never forgive himself.

So he rode, day after day, and he waited as Lord Mertyns worked his magic among all the Lords
who dreamed of a weak King they could bend to their will. They passed through Tumbleton on the
third day, and the moment of reckoning began to approach.

They still had another five days to reach the Blackwater, but he couldn't well spring his trap on the
eve of battle. He needed time, to settle the men and establish a new chain of command.

Dusk began to fall on the sixth day when he ordered the army to make camp at the edge of a forest,
some thirty leagues north of Tumbleton, a wide meadow spreading before them. His Kingsguard
nodded, their helms hiding their anxious expressions. They'd argued and argued against his plan
when he revealed it on the march. In their opinion, he should've forced Mertyns to name his co-
conspirators and execute them all before they got a chance to strike.

Knights, he shook his head as he dismounted. Never saw a problem they couldn't kill. Jaehaerys
had to maintain at least the appearance of justice. He couldn't accuse men of treason they hadn't
committed, execute them for an act they merely talked about. Mertyns' testimony would be far
from enough to convince the rest of his Lords. Besides, it's not as if I have time to hold a bloody
tribunal.

Some of his men set up a table at the edge of the forest and laid with fruits and ale for Jae to enjoy
while they set up his tent. Jae sat there, plucking a grape every once in a while and tossing it into
his mouth as he watched the camp rise up in front of him.

A chill had fallen on the land, and with every minute the shadows grew darker, the torches more
prominent. His Kingsguard stood behind him, one eye on the forest behind him and the other on
the men in front of him.

He saw men in Baratheon colors sneak into the forest in pairs. To hunt game, others claimed,
though if anyone wondered why they did so in full armor, nobody brought it up. The darker it got,
the more men disappeared into the forest, and none came back.
Still, Jaehaerys sat there and enjoyed his grapes, his fingers itching to draw Blackfyre even as his
armor weighed on his shoulders. Lord Orys creeped out of the shadows behind him, and his
Kingsguard let him pass right after they nearly killed him.

''Your Grace, my men are ready. When we see the traitors approach, they'll immediately surround
them.'' He whispered in his ear, sticking to the shadows so no one else could spot him.

''Very well,'' Jae nodded and reached up to his shoulders. Vermithor and Meleys crawled into his
hands. He stood up and quickly placed them on Orys' shoulders, much to their displeasure. Stay
with him, just for a little while, he commanded, and no biting. They both turned their heads toward
Orys, who froze upon finding himself in such close vicinity of death, and examined the young
man. Declaring themselves satisfied, they gave a resigned purr and settled on his shoulder.

''Keep them safe, Orys. And do try to save my life.''

''I will not fail you, Your Grace,'' Orys nodded and walked back into the forest, stiff as a board as
he did his best to avoid annoying the young dragons.

Jae chuckled and sat back down, rubbing his palm over the knuckles of his left hand. Something
told him everything would come down to the following chain of events; all he'd achieved, all the
crimes he committed, he'd know if they were worth it soon enough. If he walked away unscathed,
he'd win the war.

''Your Grace,'' a steward approached with a bow, ''Your tent is ready.''

Jae glanced at the giant white pavilion and the Baratheon men sneaking inside it. ''Indeed it is,
thank you.'' He gave the steward a kind smile and got off his chair.

''Come,'' he motioned to his Kingsguard. ''Let's see if we mean to die tonight.''

He walked to his tent, held the flap aside and entered. He came face to face with at least three
dozen Baratheon men-at-arms, Lord Orys' best. In their chainmail, their swords drawn, they stared
at him in silence, their faces hidden in the shadows. They huddled together with little room to
breathe, their bodies taut like drawn bowstrings.

''A thousand dragons to each of you if I survive this,'' he told them as he drew Blackfyre and turned
to the entrance into the tent.

''You're not going out there first, Your Grace.'' Ser Arthur grabbed him by the shoulder and pulled
him through the crowd of bodies to the back of the tent.

''Am I to wait here like an idiot and pray it all turns out all right?''

''Yes,'' he and Ser Barristan answered in unison. They had a point, though Jae wanted to argue it
dearly. The rebels needed to finish him off quickly; if they waited too long, the rest of the camp
would stir and they'd end up slaughtered.

No, by the time other commanders came to ask about the commotion and the screams, they had to
have Jae's body lying at their feet. Once the other Lords saw the deed was done and they could do
nothing about it, they'd be far more inclined to listen to any proposal that involved making peace
with Aegon and Tywin Lannister.

So he waited, and he listened for any sound of movement from the outside. Time passed, little by
little, and a thousand fears made themselves known. Mertyns could actually betray him. And Orys,
did he forget about Robert Baratheon and his foolish dream? He hated the thought of relying on
others so heavily, of knowing one whimsical, unexpected decision could decide his fate. Now you
know why men don't like the thought of you with dragons.

I am King, and they are not. He kept a firm grip of Blackfyre until he heard the footsteps
approaching the tent. There had to be dozens of them, but no more. The traitors couldn't justify
marching through the camp with all their men behind them. A dozen men each, at most.

Suddenly the sounds of footsteps went silent. Every man in the tent tensed in anticipation, those in
the front row most of all.

Jae watched the entrance motionless and did not even blink when half-a-dozen men burst through
the flap only to find glinting Baratheon swords arching toward their necks. They died quick deaths,
gurgling blood and gasping for breath. More sounds of running followed, but this time they came
from behind the tent. Jaehaerys clicked his tongue, and the men inside the tent streamed outside as
one.

''What is the meaning of this?!'' he heard Lord Redwyne call, the hint of panic in his voice
unmistakable.

Jaehaerys wanted to follow, but Ser Arthur's hand on his shoulder kept him from moving. He heard
a clash of steel, followed by a grunt and what had to be the sound of a body hitting the ground. All
went quiet again.

''Lord Mertyns!'' came a call, followed by exclamations and curses. He's turned on them.

''If you lay down your arms, His Grace has promised no punishment will come to you. The treason
is that of your Lords, not your own. Lay down your arms and live.'' Lord Orys commanded in a
voice that eerily reminded Jae of Stannis.

A beat of silence, followed by a clatter of swords and pikes. ''Search them!'' Orys barked and more
sounds of movement followed. Searching for hidden daggers.

''This is an outrage!'' a voice called, ''I demand to see the King!''

''You'll see him soon enough, Caswell, him and Blackfyre.''

No response followed.

''Am I allowed to leave, then, dear mothers?'' Jae asked, tired of trying to divine meaning through
sounds alone while staring at the dark, empty tent.

''Aye, Your Grace,'' Ser Arthur said, but his three Kingsguard all stepped in front of him,
brandishing their white shields to cover his entire body, in case any quarrel came flying out of the
crowd. Ser Arthur and Ser Barristan had no intention of holding the flaps aside only to end up
surprised at what awaited them outsides.

With two quick slashes of their ancient swords, they sheared the flaps off the entrance and snapped
back into formation. They came upon a glorious sight, one that had the corners of Jae's lips
twitching.

Baratheon men surrounded the traitors in a half-circle, a growing crowd gathering beyond. The
men-at-arms were being detained one by one, searched for their weapons and pulled away, while
the rebels Lords found themselves on their knees with swords at their throats.

The instant Jae stepped outside, two forms flew through the air and landed on his shoulders,
playfully nipping at his ears. Capable of flight when the occasion calls for it, huh?

His Kingsguard relaxed, but still they did not lower their shields. They saw traitors everywhere.

''Your Grace, what is the meaning of this?!'' Rowan demanded.

''You tell me, Mathis.'' Jae replied, ''Do you usually send your men into the King's tent with drawn
swords?''

''Your Grace,'' Lord Swann said, ''We did not mean to—''

''Murder me?'' Jae finished the sentence for him. ''Lord Mertyns, what did they intend to do?''

''Murder you, Your Grace.''

''You fucking traitor!'' Caswell shouted, damning them in front of the entire army. Jae could not
begin to guess how far back the crowd went in the darkness, but he knew all would know of it
within the hour.

''Ah, but he led you astray on my orders, so he is no traitor at all,'' Jae said without bothering to
keep the pleasure from his voice. He looked to Lord Orys and said, ''Restrain them and take them
into the tent. Keep the other men under watch until we can be sure there are no catspaws among
them. ''

''Aye, Your Grace.'' Lord Orys said. He cleared the area before the tent within a minute. And I am
pleased to present your next Hand of the King...

When the Lords and the men were taken, Jae faced the expectant eyes of the knights who'd come to
see what had happened. They stared at him in silence, and only the select few hurled curses and
accusations at the traitors. ''These men have been paid by Tywin Lannister to betray this army, to
betray you and murder all those who oppose the Pretender in their beds. As long as I am King, such
treason shall never go unpunished. The opponents of justice shall all be brought to heel, this I
promise you.''

They nodded to his words, the occasional shout of, ''Long live the King!'' ringing through the night.

Some of Orys' men came to his side bearing torches so everyone might see him. As planned. Jae
smiled widely as he gazed upon the knights. ''Do you see how badly Lord Tywin fears you, fears
us?'' he shouted. ''He knows himself to be doomed, for what chance could he hope to have in face
of warriors such as yourselves?'' The play on their pride elicited far more shouts and jests. ''And
how could he not? You form the greatest army Westeros has ever seen, and tomorrow we will
march to the Blackwater and put these Lions to bed!''

Chants erupted all over the camp, and it startled Jae to see that almost the entire army had gathered
to listen to him, to hear what had happened. The chants of ''Long live the King,'' broke out as Jae
turned and moved back inside the tent, only stopping for long enough to tell Lord Orys, ''Do try to
make sure they get some rest tonight.''

''Aye, Your Grace,'' Lord Orys laughed as Jaehaerys entered the tent, now lit up by the torches
from a dozen Baratheon men standing around it.

He paced around the six rebel Lords, eyeing them all in interest. ''I will forgo the torture, won't
have you experience pain that leaves you on the edge of insanity. Instead, I offer the following
proposal; you tell me exactly what Lord Tywin ordered you to do during the coming battle, and I
don't wipe out your families root and stem with dragonfire.'' The men exchanged looks, trembling
and pale. Jae spied a trail of piss making its way down Caswell's leg. ''What say you?''
 Chapter 31

Birds cawed in the distance. The rush of the Blackwater hummed in their ears. A clear sky graced
them, and a pleasant wind whistled among the ranks upon ranks of armored men. A perfect
summer day; one made for hunting game, fishing in the river or riding in the forest.

He could see himself holding a picnic with his family in the middle of a meadow, laughing and
drinking, while someone else took care of the running of the Realm. The real Aegon would've been
stiff and disapproving, certain a Crown Prince must keep his composure. Jae, Rhaenys, and
Daenerys would've teased him endlessly about it, while Elia and Lyanna looked on from an open
tent, sipping fine wine and quietly chatting about the gossip of the Court. They would've brought
hawks. Jae and Aegon would've challenged the Sword of the Morning to a duel or held an archery
competition until exhaustion got the better of them and they surrendered to an evening around the
fire, munching on roasted boar as Ser Barristan recounted his greatest deeds or Lyanna told them
all about the legends of the North.

Jae heard the laughter in his ears, the warmth of the fire on his skin. His mother's hand going
through his air as she whispered about the Others and the Long Night.

He took a shaky breath and looked toward the army on the opposite bank. I will kill thousands
today.

Tarly and Fossoway had done their jobs well. They'd stripped the opposite side of the river of trees
for nearly half-a-league to provide wood for the pikes that now jutted into the air in an inverted
half-circle line around the ford. Their bank was bereft of any protection, though for the most part
they stood out of range, and the ground slowly rose up higher toward the hill some five hundred
yards back.

Rows of Lannister men in their red armor stood straight across the river from Jaehaerys. Aegon's
center. Some of them spilled over into the right flank, while Crown and Riverlands Lords made up
their left. Jae saw Darry and Tully banners flapping proudly in the air, along with a dozen others.

Thirty thousand men stood at his back and a thousand crossbowmen at his front. Beside the
Targaryen and Tyrell banners, Redwyne and Rowan colors featured most prominently of them all.

He'd thought about playing a game of chicken with Aegon, but decided against it in the end. His
banners featured a white dragon upon a black field. Let Aegon claim a banner that does not belong
to him. It makes the legend of the Ice Dragon only so much more powerful.

Tarly held his left flank, Fossoway his right, each with twenty thousand men under their command.
Orys commanded the reserve of thirty thousand. It had been a spirited discussion that decided the
matter.

''Your Grace,'' Orys only let his thoughts known after the rest of the commanders left the Council
of War. ''Surely it should be you who commands the reserve.''

''Quite the opposite, Lord Orys.'' Jae argued back. ''Tywin sees me as a foolish boy wanting to be a
hero. When he sees me on the front lines, he will want to take advantage.''

''And he may succeed!'' Lord Orys looked to the Kingsguard for assistance. '' Surely you must
agree? It is too risky to have the King fight on the front lines!''

''We obey the King,'' Ser Barristan said, his voice hollow behind the helm.
''Your Grace,'' Orys pleaded, throwing a disgusted look at the knights. ''Allow me to command the
center and you command the reserve. You shall do a much better job than I!''

Jaehaerys smiled and took a sip of the delicious Arbor wine. He found he enjoyed the little things
far more on the eve of battle. ''Let us speak plainly, Lord Orys. You are twice the battle-
commander that I am.''

Orys reared his head as though he found Jae's words incomprehensible. ''Your Grace!'' he said,
outraged by the very notion. ''You've already won two great battles. None could challenge your
skill as a commander!''

''Two battles where I held all the advantages. I did not win the battles, Lord Baratheon, I merely
failed to lose them.''

''But you're the one who decided the tactics for the coming battle! ''

''I have,'' Jae agreed, ''And I trust you more than I trust myself to implement them. Remember your
father's teachings and trust your instincts. I know you will make the right decision.''

His shoulders slumped in resignation, only for a steel resolve to raise him up again. ''I will not fail
you, Your Grace. On my father's name, I will not fail you.''

Jae watched the motionless army across the river, and wondered. Where's Aegon? Does he hide
among the reserves with Tywin? Where's Jamie? Back at King's Landing, or will he trek across the
ford in the hopes of killing me?

If he were to face Jaime, he could only guess at what he'd do. Kill him on the spot, or try to spare
him? He knew what he wanted to do, but Jaime Lannister remained one of the deadliest blades in
Westeros. Any hesitation when facing him and even Ser Arthur might find three feet of cold steel
in his belly.

He looked back at his men. With the exception of the reserve, they all fought on foot, both the
knights and the men-at-arms. Four lines of longbowmen stood behind them, ready to unleash holy
hell upon the advancing Lannisters, while the crossbowmen at the front took care of the men who
reached the palisades. Two lines of pikemen followed them; they'd engage after the Lannister
began to break through and the crossbowmen pulled back.

Jae stood behind them, at the front of his ranks, his Kingsguard at his back. Oswell should've been
here. He added another member in the last two days; Lord Mertyns' younger son Elmar; a beady-
eyed, somewhat chubby youth who looked harmless until he drew a sword. He damn near trashed
Ser Barristan. It made Jae smile to remember it.

He saw movement on the other bank and knew the time had come. Time to give his men one last
boost, to remind them of the reason they came to fight. He turned around and faced them, his black
hair streaming in the wind. ''Since I was a young boy, I only dreamed of one thing,'' he shouted and
hoped most of his army could hear him. ''To see this Realm united, driven by peace and
prosperity.''

He paced in the small clearing in the ranks, but he felt their eyes on him, thousands of them.
''Today, I place that dream in your hands. I place my hope in the strength of your shields and the
swiftness of your blades. Today, you decide what history shall claim tomorrow!'' he took a deep
breath.

''Today, you decide the legacy you will leave to your children. Even I, a King, rely upon you today
more than any man ever has! The strength of your will shall dictate the fates of millions for
decades to come.'' They did not cheer and they did not shout, but their eyes said it all. ''So I ask
you; will you stand with me today? Will you allow a better future the chance to bloom?'' Their
screams answered his question. They raised their swords and their axes in the air as one.

He let silence fall upon the ranks again. ''Today I ask you to share in my dream, and cut through
those traitors to achieve it!'' he was breathless as pointed his finger at the opposite bank, his heart
pounding in his chest. ''Will you stand with me?!''

''Aye!''

''Will you stand with me?!''

He could've sworn the ground shook and the leaves trembled at their answer.

Jaehaerys nodded, satisfied he had his men right where he wanted them. He drew Blackfyre and
put on his helm as the horn sounded from the Lannister lines and five rows of infantrymen moved
forward to test their defenses. Ten thousand men, no more.

They moved in slowly. Jae saw them reach the edge of the river and shouted, ''Archers!''

The command moved down the line until it reached Ser Baelor. A hail of arrows took to the sky
just as the first of the Lannister men waded into the water and the caltrops Fossoway placed along
the ford claimed their first casualties. Arrows fell like rain upon them. Some glanced off their
armor and their shields, but many found their home on in the cracks of their plates. ''Again!''

They waded through the water that reached above their knees as arrows fell down on them in
waves. Nasty business. The river turned red and Jae saw the first of the corpses floating
downstream. The men pressed tightly around him, a wall of flesh to keep him safe from the
oncoming tide.

The crossbowmen unleashed their first volley when the infantry regained solid footing and shaved
another couple hundred men off their number. The longbowmen behind them began to loose their
arrows at the Lannister footsoldiers at will.

What remained of the infantry charged straight ahead, ignoring the opportunities at the side. They
came directly at Jaehaerys in the middle, but he saw they'd lost thousands just crossing the river.
The trenches of pikes halted their charge, allowing his crossbowmen to reload and unleash another
volley at them even as they slashed at the pikes in the hopes of forcing a path through
them. Creating a path for the second wave.

They forced themselves through whatever little gaps they could find, slashing with their swords to
make them wider. They received bolts and spears into their chests for their troubles, but every time
one man fell, another sprung forth to take his place and add another couple yards to the path.

And there were still hundreds of them. ''Crossbowmen! Retreat!'' he called after they unleashed the
latest volley. The first of the men made their way through the palisades, the crossbowmen could
do little good. His men created lines in the ranks, allowing crossbowmen to trickle through them to
the back. They would join the longbowmen at the back and randomly fire bolts into the mass of
advancing Lannisters.

His pikemen stepped forth to kill any man that made it past the palisades, but it was only a matter
of time before the Lannisters won a bridge-head. Jaehaerys stayed in place and saw another knight
catch a pike through the neck. The same happened all along the line, but they identified the gaps
and raced through them.

The sounds of screaming became overwhelming. They would not cease until the armies settled the
day's matter.

The men-at-arms had no chance on their own. They would never break them, but Tywin Lannister
hardly intended them to. Jae stood behind his men and watched them slaughter lions one by one in
front of him, swarming around them, keeping them at distance with their pikes as they poked them
full of holes not twenty feet ahead of him.

He heard a trumpet go off on the other bank and the Lannister cavalry sprang forth, the rest of the
center on their heels. The whole army will advance. But their flanks stayed put and Jae saw Lord
Tywin's plan. He'll march them all in a line. One giant battering ram to break my center.

Arrows whistled above his head as the cavalry reached the water. Crossbowmen couldn't hope to
be accurate at such a distance, but they had the range, and a wall of men and horses to aim for.
What little chaos the men-at-arms who pushed past the palisades created came to an end; they were
either dead or on the run. The eyes of his army turned to the cavalry.

The second volley from the longbowmen fell on them as they reached their bank, and Jae saw
hundreds fall. It barely made a dent. Thousands upon thousands of them came on them. The first
line of the riders emerged from the water and broke out into a run. Arrows fell on them from every
direction, and still, they did not even glance to the sides.

The earth shook under the weight of their charge; they rode like madmen who knew only speed
could save their lives, caring little if they trampled the wounded men from the first wave who tried
to crawl to safety.

They waved their swords and their axes through the air, their House words on their lips. Jae
watched them come as a single rider broke ahead of the formation; riding a red courser, he
screamed something to his men, pointing his sword at the gap to the right of Jae's position.

Most slowed when the time came to push through the gaps; they had to trickle through the gaps
and their formations disintegrated. This madman on the red charger pushed on and burst through
the gap at full speed. Jae had no idea how he managed it. He mowed down a half-dozen pikemen
when he hit their lines. They killed the horse under him and sent him flying from the saddle into
their waiting arms. But he bought the knights behind him some breathing room, and they emerged
from the gap with no pikes waiting for them as Jae's men scrambled to fill to the hole in the line.

''Brave man,'' Ser Barristan muttered.

Dead man. He grunted in agreement.

His shoulders tensed, his grip on Blackfyre strong enough to bend the hilt. It wouldn't be long now;
he could not hope to sit back and watch the rest of the battle. The danger of the moment seemed far
clearer standing so close to violence without taking part. In the heat of battle, he'd been on-guard
and in the thick of it. The only people who could kill him were the ones in his immediate vicinity.
Now he stood still, waiting for something, anything that might come flying through the air.

The pikemen lost all cohesion in his center; the continuous stream of mounted knights proving too
much and so a bloody melee began. Knights wheeled around, slashing and hacking down at their
opponents while pike thrusts emerged from the chaos, searching for gaps in the armor. Some found
them, most didn't.
One of his men had the bright idea of using Lannister dead to plug a gap; Jae spied a pike flying
through the air just as the latest rider navigated his way through the palisades. He killed the horse
beneath him, but the animal fell to the side and flattened more pikes beneath it, creating an even
wider path.

His men-at-arms began to enter the fray and Jae found himself only two ranks away from the
fighting. They swarmed around the riders and had little compunction in killing the horses if they
couldn't pull the knights off them. It didn't stop the bleeding and the riders pushed deeper and
deeper into his ranks.

He and his Kingsguard fell into a fighting stance as one; shields front, their blades resting on them.
Ser Arthur in front of him, Ser Loras and Ser Elmar at his sides. Ser Barristan stood guarding his
back, for when the true chaos came.

Jae did not bother trying to gauge the rest of the battlefield. He had his plan in place, and he had to
trust Orys would make the right decisions. The rest of the commanders knew that any orders that
came from him had Jae's full approval.

One rank to go and his Kingsguard took a step forward. They did not mean to wait for the enemy
to come to them. Now the foot-soldiers came en masse. The gaps had gotten so wide they ran
through them in pairs and spread in every direction like water from a dam.

A mounted man split the head of a soldier right in front of them. He got his horse killed under him,
but the hole remained and three Lannister footsoldiers rushed through. Ser Arthur's thrust killed the
first. Ser Elmar and Ser Loras required two strokes each to dispatch the other two. They did not get
a moment's peace, their next assailants already upon them.

Jae looked to the side; fighting erupted all along his line, the clashes of swords painful in his ears.
Still he waited, as Ser Barristan told him to, and trusted his Kingsguard to take care of any
immediate threats. But they were the finest swordsmen in the Realm, and the rest of the men along
the line were not. They held their ground, but the rest began to give it. Soon, Ser Loras and Ser
Elmar had to fend off attackers coming from the side, as well as those to the front.

''Kingsguard!'' Ser Barristan thundered. ''Step back!'' As one they moved. ''Another!'' and for the
moment they rejoined their line. ''Square formation!''

Jae exhaled, the noise fading from his ears. At last. Ser Arthur took a step to the left. Ser Elmar
stepped forward, and Ser Loras to the back. Now they covered the four corners around Jae as he
stepped between Arthur and Elmar.

They did not stand shoulder-to-shoulder, but with some three feet between them to give themselves
room to fight. A Lannister knight wielding a mace came running to him. Blackfyre flashed through
the air; he cut the man's arm at the elbow and opened his throat with a right slash. Now the fear left
him, and he knew only the men in front of him mattered.

The Lannisters identified them, the five men in immaculate white armor, and rushed them. Ser
Arthur and Ser Elmar both found three men attacking them, whereas Jaehaerys got two, one right
after the other. He caught the firsts blow on his shield and lunged forward. He buried Blackfyre in
his chest and ducked on instinct. The swing of the second sailed over his head and he spun on his
heel. He did not manage to find the gap between the helm and the neck-brace as the man fell past
him, but Blackfyre's blow at his helm rattled his head. He staggered into Ser Elmar who took the
weight and threw himself into his opponent shield-first, but Ser his panic at the attack from behind
made him forget about his other remaining opponent.
He turned and elbowed the knight at his back, flooring him. Elmar went for the killing blow, and
his other opponent did the same. Jaehaerys sprang forward, cut his sword arm and moved right
past him engage the man who'd recovered from Elmar's shield strike. Blackfyre met some shite
Westerland steel, broke through it and buried itself in his shoulder. It surprises Jae so much he
almost didn't get his shield up in time for the next attacker.

The hit jarred his arm and he staggered back to buy himself room, just like Jaime taught me. He
took the next hit on his shield as well and thrust forward. The knight deflected the hit with his
shield. Jae went with the momentum and rolled the length of it to his back. He brought Blackfyre
down on the back of his knee and heard him cry out as his leg buckled. Instinctively, he hit the
back of his head with his shield and sent him sprawling. A stab through the back put an end to the
matter.

He looked up. Ser Elmar fought a knight to his right, Ser Loras and Ser Arthur still further beyond.
He looked to his left just as Ser Barristan cleaved the head off a common man-at-arms who'd been
going for Jae.

''Your Grace, pull back!'' he shouted and Jae followed the command. The chaos of the fighting
surrounded them and the part of his center with any sort of cohesion stood about thirty feet away.
Lannisters gained ground with each second, though they'd expected it. The sheer mass of men that
poured through the gaps meant they had to pull back just to give themselves room to fight. But I
can't be caught in the chaos when Orys gives the order.

''Kingsguard!'' Ser Barristan roared as they slowly backtracked. Jae paid little attention to them;
men kept running at him and Blackfyre ran red with blood. As though he took a step away from
himself, and ended up an observer as much as any other man.

Blackfyre danced in his hands. No shield, no plate, and no sword could stand in its way. Those
who last more than five or six swings against him found themselves losing their weapons, and their
lives shortly after. Step by step, they pulled back, but he could only measure the distance in how
far-off the palisades looked.

They could not touch him. His swords lightness always made him a touch faster as he though he
ran a race he could not hope to lose. No opening went unexploited; blood sprayed over his helm
after he opened the throat of a Westerland knight, another put too much force behind his swing and
got his leg cut off by the knee when Jae ducked beneath it.

Ser Barristan fought to his left, Ser Arthur took his right and Jae cared very little what happened to
the other two. Those who came at them died and they died quickly. Dawn, Blackfyre and Dark
Sister had never been wielded side by side, and they lived up to the legend.

Jae skewered another man and took a step back only to trip over the corpse of a Tyrell soldier. He
fell on his back and quickly brought his shield up to stop a mace from bashing his face in. He
stabbed blindly past his shield and a grunt rewarded his efforts. On the verge of panic, he
scrambled to his feet, slipping on the blood and the guts of the fallen man.

He focused on the man that came at him next, and the man after that.

Only when he pushed against something with his back did he realized how far back they moved.
He nearly killed a terrified Tyrell man-at-arms but stopped himself in time when he saw the ranks
that still held formation.

Ten thousand of the men in his center had yet to see battle, by his best estimate. He looked
forward; the pocket behind the palisades grew larger with every moment. How many Lannisters
have rushed in? Twenty thousand, thirty? The fighting raged as far as he could see, and beyond the
chaos, more Lannister men were reforming in front of the palisades. Some Riverlords, too. He
imagined the left flank was right behind them. Orys will have to give the order. Soon, very soon.

''Let the King through!'' Ser Barristan screamed and the Tyrell shield-wall parted for long enough
to let Jae pass. He looked back; Ser Loras and Ser Elmar followed in right after Arthur and
Barristan. Good.

There was little point in taking part in the fighting for the moment. Tywin had seen them in the
thick of it, he'd assume they meant to stay there for the rest of the battle. They passed through the
ranks of Tyrell, Redwyne and Rowan knights and men-at-arms, all of whom gazed upon Jae's
blood-splattered and muddy armor as though they found it to be the most magnificent sight they'd
ever seen.

Lucas came riding up toward them when they emerged from the back of Jae's center, holding
flagons of water, Jae's banner, and welcome news.

''Lord Orys says Lord Tywin and the reserve have advanced as well, Your Grace,'' Lucas told them
as they walked on, to the designated spot some two hundred yards back. Jae took off his helm and
looked back but couldn't see anything. Orys had to know, he waited atop the rise. ''He begs report
he'll give the order the moment Lord Tywin commits his forces.''

Jae nodded and took a sip of the water, though desperate to catch his breath. ''One last maneuver to
execute and the day is ours.'' He told his Kingsguard.

''Aye, Your Grace,'' Ser Barristan nodded, the other three too busy drinking to answer.

''Right here,'' he said as he came to a stop, at the beginning of the incline that began the rise to the
top of the hill where Lord Orys stood. Lucas nodded, lifted the banner and planted in the ground.

''Your Grace, I—'' the boy began.

''I won't hear a word of it,'' Jaehaerys said, giving the boy a look to let him know there would be no
discussion. ''Ride back to Lord Orys and stay there. That's an order from your King, so I expect you
won't try to hide among other men to join the fighting, will you?''

''No, Your Grace.'' The boy nodded, properly chastised.

''Good, now go.''

The boy bowed in his saddle and rode off. They heard a horn sound in the distance. Their position
gave them a better view now, and they saw the mass of Lannister and Riverland men advance on
the chaos before them at the double-time, like an unstoppable wave.

The reaction was instant. Men engaged in single-combat turned and ran back to the safety of their
lines, while those who stood too far off ended up cut down. Wait for it. Let them truly commit.

He watched the wave of men move deeper into the pocket. Tywin's master plan unfolded before
them. Tarly and Fossoway were pressured on the flanks, they could not hope to send
reinforcements to the center as Tywin's great battering ram shattered it. He reckoned he could even
see the man himself, dozens of knights around him in a sea of footmen. Are you with him Aegon?
For your sake, I hope not.

His formations stood about a hundred yards from the oncoming tide when a horn sounded from
behind Jaehaerys. Two signals went up, from the Redwynes and the Rowans. The traitors.
His center tucked tail and ran. Little by little, at first. The Rowans and the Redwynes stood at the
very back and the trickle of men quickly became a flood. The men standing in front of them looked
back to see their brothers-in-arms lose heart, and followed.

That's what Tywin and the Lannisters saw, anyway. The soldiers sprinted away from the danger,
away from the fighting, straight to Jae. He put on his helm and got ready for slaughter.

Jae looked past them; when the front lines broke before them, a mighty cry erupted from the
Lannister men and they broke formations, drunk on victory, to hunt down their fleeing foe. They
should've brought the cavalry.

When the first of the fleeing soldiers reached Jaehaerys, they stopped and turned around, creating a
new line with Jaehaerys and his banner at the center. They allowed room for the men behind them
to pass through and a new formation stacked up like so many bricks. Men ran between the rows
and stopped when they found the first gap. From Jaehaerys it spread to the sides, the commanders
of individual companies shouting orders to their men. They had no longbowmen anymore, they'd
all joined the hand-to-hand fighting, and so could not hope to slow down the frenzied charge of the
Lannisters. Then again, why should we? The second formation was supposed to mirror the crescent
shape of the primary formation, but Jaehaerys always had little hope that they could pull it
off. We'll have to compensate by charging.

The Lannisters did not see their defeated army reform in the crowd of running men before them.
They had their eyes on the men fleeing before them, salivating at the thought of burying their
swords in their backs.

The thundering of a charging cavalry brought them out of their reverie, and suddenly they saw the
shield wall rising in front of them. Jaehaerys looked to the right and he looked to the left. Orys had
split his force in two, and now they thundered down the hill to plug the gaps between the center
and the flanks.

The first of the Lannister men came to a stop some fifty yards in front of their lines, but the men
behind them did not know the reason for the hold-up, and the mass of men pushed their haphazard
new formation another twenty yards closer to Jae. Perfect.

He looked to the side again, where Orys wheeled his cavalry into the Lannisters to cut off their
retreat. Gods, they looked so harmless, like two little tendrils reaching forward to pat the Lannister
army on its shoulders. Or its arse.

The screams began then, and Jaehaerys saw his cavalry carve through Lannister men. Those at the
front of the new formation stood close enough so Jae could see it. See the dread, the dawning
realization that they made a terrible, terrible mistake.

Jaehaerys pointed Blackfyre at them, blood dripping off of it, and screamed at the top of his lungs.
''Attack!''

His men ran forward, screaming like crazy, and Jaehaerys had meant to charge with them, but
when the time came, his legs did not move. His Kingsguard sprang forth only to halt when they
saw he didn't go with them.

I'm the King now, he sighed, enough of this hero business. They looked to him, and exchanged
glances. Ser Barristan put an end to their confusion as he nodded, stabbed his sword in the ground,
and grunted in approval.

Jae watched his men run past him, and none of them questioned it. They smelled victory on the
wind and cared little if Jae joined in the slaughter. He looked down the line and saw it hug the
Lannisters, his flanks pushing forward to cut off their escape. He committed his entire army. In the
distance, the two wings of Orys' charge already passed one another. One plowed right into the
mass of men, while the other continued the curve of its charge, back up the sides of the Lannisters,
killing everyone in their way. How many are trapped?

He stabbed Blackfyre into the ground and knelt behind it. He closed his eyes, and thought of
Westeros, and what kind of a world the cries, the shrieks of steel-on-steel would buy.

''Your Grace,'' Ser Loras said, ''Permission for myself and Ser Elmar to join the fighting. Ser Arthur
and Ser Barristan will keep you safe enough here, but those men might still need some direction.''

He nodded. ''Go.''

He watched them run off, looking past the hilt to see his men push on. Now the tide retreated, and
thousands of fishes were left stranded on the ground, pleading for their mothers, and crying until
their final gasp.
 Chapter 32

Death leaves a trace, Ser Barristan had said after the Battle of the Black Tree. Jae thought he
understood. How wrong he'd been

The banks of the Blackwater Rush had turned into killing fields. Corpses covered the ground,
arrows and sword and pikes jutting from them, and Jae had to watch his step for there were few
places where a man could step without wading into a pool of blood, or crushing a skull beneath his
foot. Already he had tread upon eyeballs and severed hands, always looking down on instinct,
expecting to find a root, only to find horror in its stead.

His army had moved across the river; when the bloodlust left them, they wandered the battlefield
like ghosts and beat a quick retreat from the grizzly sight. The palisades became pits for the dead;
so many corpses filled the trenches, the pikes could scarcely be seen.

Crows circled overhead, blotting out the afternoon sun, and the Stranger walked the land. Jae could
taste it at the tip of his tongue, and sometimes the shadows fell in queer ways. A dozen times he
flinched when he saw a shape move from the corner of his eyes only to find nothing there.

The Lannister army had broken within the hour of Lord Orys' devastating charge. They had tried to
break out of the encirclement, tried to earn a favorable surrender, but his men never gave them the
chance. In the center, ten thousand men tried to surrender. Five thousand of them laid dead by the
time his men noticed.

The flanks retreated even before that. Jae had seen the chaotic flight back across the river; men,
their eyes wild with panic, dropped their swords and their shields and ran for their lives, scattering
in every direction.

This time, Lord Tarly did not come asking permission to pursue. The implacable Lord had looked
pale and sickly, his eyes haunted, when he asked permission to lead the army across the river.

Now only the select few roamed the field, gathering swords and armor, slaughtering injured horses
and putting doomed men out of their misery.

Jae moved towards the river with Orys at his side and Ser Barristan and Ser Arthur at his back
when Ser Loras came, stumbling over the corpses, jumping from one opening in the ground to the
next. ''Your Grace,'' he said with an awkward bow. ''We found him.''

''Where?''

''Just beyond the palisades, there,'' Ser Loras pointed out the right flank. ''He was in charge of their
left flank.''

''Is he alive?''

''He's hurt, Your Grace.'' Ser Loras could not bear to look him in the eye. ''Badly.''

''Take me to him.'' They walked together, as fast as the ground allowed, Orys shooting concerned
glances his way the entire time. They found him lying among the corpses, right in front of the
ditches, his golden armor covered in blood. A young squire knelt on the ground, Ser Jaime's head
in his lap, as he poured wine into his mouth.

''Jaime!'' Jae breathed and rushed to him. ''How bad is it?'' he asked as he knelt by him, the squire
terrified by his presence, yet bold enough to remain in place.

''Your Grace,'' Ser Jaime gasped and coughed up some blood. Jae looked down his body. In spite of
all the dirt, he saw the dents in his armor, the deep hole in his chainmail beneath the arm.

''Get a Maester!'' Jae thundered, and heard someone run to do his bidding.

''Your Grace,'' Jaime repeated and his emerald eyes found him. His face was covered in grime, and
so Jae clearly saw the trail of tears running down his cheek. ''I'm sorry.''

''It's alright, Jaime, it's alright,'' Jae took his hand. ''We'll get you a Maester and you'll be fine.''

''No,'' Jaime shook his head and that small act proved enough to bring a grimace to his face. ''It's
too late for me, but... please... spare the innocents. Please.'' He begged and his hand gripped Jae's
arm in a vice. ''Please.''

Wind rippled his hair. Crows flew overhead, and the Stranger lurked closeby. Jae felt his eyes
grow hot, desperate to deny what laid clear before him. ''Don't worry about that, Jaime, you're
going to live! Just fight, you bloody bastard!'' he cried.

''I'm sorry, Jae,'' Ser Jaime coughed again. More blood. All Jae saw was the shining young knight
who told him to fight back, to find power any way he could. All so I could help. It seemed such a
long time ago. ''I should've—fought by yo—your side. Not—not my father's. I'm so sorry.''

His breath grew ragged. He latched onto his arm and raised himself up a little, forcing Jae to look
him right in the eyes. ''Remember, Jaehaerys. Remember what we fought for!'' he gasped and fell
back into the squire's lap, his entire body spasming from pain. ''Remember,'' he breathed one last
time.

''No, no, no,'' Jae grabbed him by the shoulders. ''Where's the Maester!'' he shouted, looking around
in vain, shaking Jaime so his eyes might open once more. ''Jaime! Jaime!''

But his chest went still, and his hand dropped from his arm, and his body went limp as though a
great pressure had been taken off it. ''Your Grace,'' a weight of a hand settled on his shoulder. ''He's
at peace now, Your Grace.''

Yes, at peace. Jae thought himself far away, and another pulled at the strings of his body to make
him stand up and walk away without a backward glance. Jaime, dead. His first friend. My only
friend. A brother and a father in one man. He'd taught him to ride, to joust; how to swing a sword
and why to avoid drawing it. He'd even explained the basics of sex when the batting eyelashes and
secretive smiles of Red Keep's women became too obvious. Dead.

''Where are the prisoners?'' he asked of the men trying to keep up.

''Lord Tarly's got them, Your Grace, across the river.'' Someone answered. Jae nodded and took a
right, straight down into the trench. He waded straight into the mess of bodies, holding onto the
pikes to keep upright, ignoring the shocked cries from behind him. The horrors beneath his boots
held no sway over him.

No mad rage took him. No desperate desire for violence and bloodshed. Instead, it felt
cool, clinical.

I'm just going to gently press Blackfyre to a couple of throats. And blood will flow. Each man
another victory, each man offering his own small share of relief. Easy. Simple. Like taking a piss.
When he reached the water Lord Orys jumped into his path. ''Your Grace,'' he said, but did not get
a chance to continue, for Jae shouldered right past him and waded into the river. That there might
still be some caltrops in the river bottom did not register in his mind.

But Baratheons did no discourage so easily. He felt a hand on his arm and Lord Orys pulled him
back, forced him to face him. He heard the song of four swords leaving their sheaths. ''Please, Your
Grace, I beg of you, wait.''

''You presume to tell me what to do, Orys?'' To Jae, it sounded as if another man had spoken.

''I presume nothing, Your Grace. Kill them all if you want, but kill them later. When we take the
Red Keep. Seven Hells, kill them tomorrow, just not now!'' Orys pleaded, ignoring the four blades
of the Kingsguard pointed at him.

''What difference does it make?'' Jae could not see. Orys spoke of nonsense. A dead man is a dead
man. The timing hardly matters.

He turned right back into the river only to find Lucas from behind them, dragging Jae's horse
along. ''Your Grace,'' he said. Right. He could ride. The boy handed over the reins with trembling
fingers; he had a look in his eyes, the look of a boy who did not understand, yet knew the
explanation to be terrible.

Jae mounted up and rode forth. His Kingsguard followed. Water splashed at his ankles. He heard
Lord Orys shouting for his own horse and by the time they came across the river, Orys once more
moved at his side. ''Where are the prisoners?'' he asked of the soldiers standing guard at the edge of
the camp.

''The soldiers are held to the west of the camp, Your Grace,'' one of them, a tall, grizzly man said.
''The nobles to the east.''

Jae nodded and took a right, riding past the first of the tents to come up. Men looked up when they
saw him pass. Some cheered, some lifted cups of ale, most only bowed with dead looks in their
eyes. They were all covered in dirt and blood.

He found them at the edge of the rapidly forming camp, at the edge of the forest. Tarly had set up a
fence around them and put two dozen men to guard them. They were herded inside like sheep, and
so the tired and the wounded sat right down on the grass, while those too proud to do so paced.

One of them was tall and bald, and covered in the finest armor money can buy. Snarling lions on
his shoulders, snarling lions of his breastplate, the cloth-of-gold cloak hanging off his shoulders
retaining its brilliance in spite of the mess it had been through. Tywin Lannister carried himself
with the same dignity and power that hung over him like a shroud when he'd taken King's Landing.

Seeing his one great foe brought low, defeated, woke him up. The hum of the river, the croaks of
the ravens, even the overpowering stench from the battlefield; it all came back. Remember what we
fought for! It shamed him to admit his delight over his victory overcame his rage at his loss, but the
deed was done, his wits returned and he blinked and glanced around as if he'd just woken up.

He looked at the tense lines on Orys' face, the blood-splattered white cloaks of his Kingsguard as
they sat their horses behind him, entirely willing to let him go and slaughter everyone in the pen.

He vaulted off his horse to find all their eyes on him. Tywin, and his little brother Kevan, smaller
in every way. Lords Darry and Hayford and Rosby. Swyft, Crakehall, Brax and Banefort. Half a
dozen knights he never saw in his life. ''Where's Ser Edmure?'' he asked Lord Orys.
His eyes went wide, and his shoulders sagged in relief. ''Dead, Your Grace.'' He dismounted.

''Dead? In battle?'' he moved before the pen, their eyes following him. Only Lord Tywin showed no
fear.

''No, Your Grace, they found him in his tent, his throat slit,'' Orys told him. His eyes spoke of a
story of unrest within Tywin's own ranks, unrest that did not turn out as the defectors might've
wished.

''And Aegon?'' he asked his eyes on the Old Lion. There was a rage in those pale, emerald eyes.
Rage and murderous intent, but Jae saw the weight of defeat pressing down on Tywin's shoulders
no matter how much Tywin tried to keep it at bay.

Aegon had been with him in the reserve and ended up captured after Orys' first charge. It spared
him the slaughter where Jae's men might've chopped him to pieces before they realized who they'd
killed.

''Lord Tarly probably isolated him,'' Orys answered. Some of the wariness remained. ''Do you wish
to...''

''No,'' Jae shook his head. ''He'll be coming with us to King's Landing.'' The aura and mystique of
Kings loses its power when the people see them dragged through the streets with a chain around
their necks. Jae would show his humiliation for all the world to see and only when drunks laughed
at Aegon in their cups, and beggars thought themselves looking kingly in comparison would he
allow Aegon to die.

''Your Grace,'' the greying Lord Swyft got to his feet and approached the fence. The guards
snapped to attention, their spears at the ready. ''What's to become of us?''

''Death, I imagine,'' He never took his eyes off Lord Tywin. Lord Swyft reared and fell back on his
arse. All his strength left him. The other men only averted their eyes and looked to the ground;
they knew the price of defeat, that's why they didn't order the surrender the second Jae's men
encircled them.

''You murdered your son, Lion.'' He finally told him, and Tywin flinched at his words. He didn't
know. ''Soon you'll be dead. Your traitor brother will be dead. Cersei will serve at the Silent Sisters
while her children rot at the Wall. There'll be as many Lannisters at Lannisport as there are
Casterly's at Casterly Rock. A fine legacy, no?''

''You've come to gloat?'' Lord Tywin rumbled. He took slow steps to approach the fence, but the
commanders that sat on the ground did not scramble to get out of his way. Tywin had to step over
some, shooting them icy glares only to find they cared little. ''You may call yourself a King, and
some may be fool enough to believe it, but all I see is a boy!''

They stood merely a foot apart, only the fence keeping Tywin from wrapping his long fingers
around his throat. The Old Lion towered over him, at least a head taller than Jae, but Jae thought he
never loomed larger. A defeated foe has that effect, a humbled bully even more so. Reminds me of
Viserys. ''Gloat?'' Jae repeated. ''Why should I need to gloat? This morning you were a great man,
respected by some and feared by all. Now, you are but another over-reaching Lord who thought
himself the equal of a dragon. ''Great for a season, the fool thought he could fly.'' Mayhaps I shall
make that your epitaph.''

And there came the snarl and the averted gaze, for the great Lord Tywin Lannister knew Jae would
do such a thing, and knew he could do nothing about it. He lost, and now he had to live with the
consequences. A tough thing to do for a man who'd won every battle life threw his way, except for
the one that mattered.

''Rest easy now. Your example shall hold up the Crown for a long time.'' Jae did not wait to see
what Tywin had to say. He turned on his heel and walked back to his horse. Jaime's dead, he
mounted the horse. But Jaime made me remember.

His enemies laid dead, or in chains. The road to the Red Keep stretched before him and not a man
to stand in his way. He had done it. All agreed taking King's Landing would be a mere formality.
All the armies of the Realm swore their allegiances to him and soon all the Lords would too.

He had dragons, and he had a Realm. Now let us see what I can do with it. ''Ser Elmar,'' he called
and reined his horse to face the young knight. ''Find the principal commanders. Tell them they're to
meet me in an hour.''

''Aye, Your Grace,'' he bowed in his saddle and rode off in search of them.

''The rest of you, come with me. I will have a chat with Aegon.''

O-O-O

When they came upon King's Landing a week after the battle, white banners hung off every gate of
the city. The sun hung low in the morning sky and the entire city shone in red-yellow light. Thin
tendrils of smoke rose into the air from forges on the Street of Steel and it all seemed much quieter
than he remembered. The grey walls of the city stood deserted, not a soldier in sight.

''They mean to surrender,'' Ser Baelor murmured from his side. His words proved prophetic when
the King's Gate creaked open and a party of Goldcloaks rode forth to meet them.

''It could be a ploy, Your Grace,'' Ser Arthur cautioned from behind him. Without waiting for his
order, his Kingsguard rode to the front to put their bodies between the King and potential danger.

The Goldcloaks came to a halt some thirty paces away in a cloud of dust. They eyed the
Kingsguard and their hands went for their swords. Every man at the head of the column tensed
until they drew them and threw them on the ground.

The Kingsguard did not move. ''Dismount and approach!'' Jaehaerys called.

Their eyes on the twitching white knights, the men got off their horses and approached his party.
As one they went down on their knees, but Jae was far from assured. ''Search them.''

He eased only when his Kingsguard made sure they carried no hidden weapons, did not hold any
crossbows behind their backs that. He might've won the battles, but he had no intention of dying on
the brink of winning the war. ''Talk,''

''Your Grace,'' one of them said. A young man, he couldn't be much older than Jaehaerys, but twice
his size if the broad shoulders and thick arms were anything to go by. He kept his eyes on the
ground as he spoke. ''We hereby surrender King's Landing to Your Grace's army.'' The men behind
him whispered when they glimpsed the dragons on his shoulders.

''And who might I thank for this warm welcome?''

''The Princess Daenerys, Your Grace. She took command of the city the night we received word of
Your Grace's victory at Death's Doorstep. All members of House Lannister are in chains. Those
who resisted have been put to death.'' He said and at last, he looked up.
''I see,'' Jae nodded. ''Ser Baelor?''

''Yes, Your Grace''

''Take five thousand of your men and surround the city. The rats will be fleeing now, and I want
you to be a good little fisherman and reel them all in. Focus especially on the walls beneath
Aegon's Hill. There are a couple interesting tunnels there that a clever man might use.'' Jaehaerys
instructed.

Ser Baelor barked a laugh and nodded. ''Aye, Your Grace, right away.'' he spurred his horse and
rode down the column.

''Lord Orys, I want you to take ten thousand men. Secure the Red Keep and the path to it. I want
every room in the castle searched and if you find a hint of treachery... well, you know what to do.
Disarm everyone, even the Goldcloaks. I'll rely on Daenerys to tell me who's innocent and who's
not later.''

''Aye, Your Grace.'' And he, too, rode off shouting orders.

''I shall have the men set up camp outside the city walls, Your Grace,'' Lord Tarly spoke up from
behind.

''Go,'' Jaehaerys nodded, his eyes on the city. He sat there on his horse and watched as Ser Baelor's
men raced in every direction and Lord Orys' infantry streamed through the gates. It was a strange
feeling, being the most powerful man around. His entire life he had to tread on eggshells around
men who wielded the power to ruin all his plans. Now they're all dead or in chains. One word
against him and a rogue Lord might find all of Seven Kingdoms descending on him. And dragons,
don't forget the dragons.

Vermithor purred on his shoulder and Jae reached up to absent-mindedly stroke his scales. Fear, he
realized, it's the lack of fear that I find strange. Fear had made him quite the diplomat.
He feared to insult visiting Lords because he didn't what they'd do if he did.

I must make sure to remember that. All the swords and dragons in the world might make him
careless in the long run. He had to keep his desperation. I'm King, aye, but if I want to make this a
reign to remember, I can't afford to offend a single person. Not one friend can be lost simply on
account of arrogance.

And it all began with the trail of prisoners following his army. Oberyn and his pride, the Lannisters
and their delusions of grandeur. He had to find a way to get rid of the traitors and keep the loyal
men happy, but not throw the kingdoms they ruled into complete disarray.

''Your Grace,'' Ser Arthur said, pointing to the field left of the road. ''They've set up your tent.''

And so he went, and so he waited, and hours went by before Lord Orys returned to tell him he
secured the prisoners and took command of the city. He'd gotten the chance to bathe and have
Lucas polish and clean his armor. He had no crown as of yet, and he refused to touch the one he'd
given Aegon though they found it in his camp.

The dragons on my shoulders shall have to be my crown. He mounted a fresh black courser
covered in a black caparison, dozens of red dragons stitched upon it. They replaced his saddle as
well, and it creaked when he mounted his horse. Ser Arthur and Ser Barristan took places of honor
at his sides, huge Targaryen banners hanging off the staffs they carried. Behind them, the knights
of the Reach and the Stormlands carried the banners of Houses Baratheon and Tyrell, along with a
number of major Houses from both Kingdoms.

The sun beat down on them from high above and only a single cloud provided some shade as
Jaehaerys gave the order to ride. They made a fine procession, he knew. Glittering knights, war
heroes all, the banners flapping proudly in the wind and Jaehaerys at the front. His white armor
shining in the sun, a black cloak so large hanging off his shoulders it covered the back of his horse
as well. Blackfyre hung off his hip, and his dragons perched on his shoulders.

Baratheon and Targaryen men lined both sides of the street as they entered through the King's
Gate. The commoners gathered behind the living wall of men and a great cheer went up when
Jaehaerys came into view. Children in ragged clothes slipped between the legs of the soldiers to
run alongside his horse. Jae drew some gold coins from his pouch and threw it to them. Old crones
and young whores, deckhands and stableboys, soot-stained blacksmiths and silk-covered
merchants; they shouted his name, threw flowers in his path and gasped at the sight of dragons.

Jae looked up to find the windows of the houses that lined the road empty. Orys must've flushed
them out, he thought in approval and adopted his best kingly mask. He smiled to the maidens and
waved to no one in particular, all the while slowly increasing the pace. He wanted to get to the Red
Keep and get back to business.

It took them nearly fifteen minutes to reach it. They rode along the walls at first, past Visenya's
Hill and the Street of Steel, until they reached the River Gate, where they took a left toward the
center of the city. The Muddy Path lived up to its name and Jae found his first investment. Right
after I empty the Westerlands of gold via war reparations. At the end of the Muddy Path, they took
a right and the Red Keep came into view. His arm already hurt from the waving, but he meant to
endure. They saw him as a conquering hero, the battles he'd won serving as proof of divine favor.
He had no intention of squandering their goodwill. His appearance did most of the heavy work, his
smile piled on and the gold he threw around so liberally sealed it.

But he wanted to take it one step further. A young boy, no more than six or seven, ran up to his
horse. He hoped for gold, no doubt, but instead, Jae reached down, took the boy's hand and pulled
him into the saddle with him. The boy, wide-eyed but as far from terrified as one can get,
instinctually wrapped his arms around his neck to keep the balance. Jaehaerys laughed, the crowd
exploded in cheers and a glance back found Ser Arthur chuckling as he shook his head in
exasperation.

''And what's your name, young man?''

''Josn, Yer Grace,'' the boy watched him with a breathless smile.

''And what do you want to be when you grow up?''

''A knight, Yer Grace. Ser Duncun the Tall!'' he cried happily as they reached the gates of the Red
Keep.

''A knight, is it?'' Jae looked down at him. ''Then you'll have to come find me when you're older,
boy.'' He helped him down from the saddle and pressed a couple of gold coins into his hand. ''For
the sword and the armor.''

The boy nodded frantically, holding the gold coins in his hands with such reverence one would
think he'd been handed a priceless gift. Perhaps he has been. He winked at him and rode on,
beneath the Traitor's Walk where a great many familiar heads greeted him, and into the outer
courtyard.
His eyes found Daenerys first. Standing in front of a crowd of nobles in a silk dress of a deep
purple, her silver hair in intricate braids, she seemed to shine. And she'd changed since last he saw
her. The girlhood had bled out of her. Her features became just a tiny bit more pronounced, her
frame a bit more filled out.

They stood in front of the Small Hall, the Tower of the Hand looming behind them. Baratheon
men stood around the courtyard and walked the walls. The number of courtiers standing with
Daenerys was much greater than he anticipated. I wonder what she demanded of them in return for
my pardon.

They kneeled as one when Jae dismounted and he approached the only person standing. ''Your
Grace,'' she curtsied. Tears welled in her eyes, and a thousand emotions spilled over her features as
she watched the dragons on his shoulders. ''King's Landing is yours.''

''Dany,'' Jae murmured and spread his arms. She threw herself at him and buried her face in his
neck, only to gasp when she felt Meleys crawling down her arm to her shoulder. She pulled back
and brought a trembling hand to the dragon who immediately leaned into her touch, rubbing her
head against her palm.

''I think she likes you.''

 Chapter 33
Chapter Notes

See the end of the chapter for notes

''I dreamed of all the things the two of us could do once, you know?'' Aegon asked, those purple
eyes gleaming in the glow of the torch. He sat with his knees to his chest, leaning against the dark
wall of his cell. Ser Barristan held the torch, standing by the entrance while Jae sat opposite
Aegon. The shadows danced on the walls, the dark eager to reclaim its lost territory, but Aegon's
haunted eyes remained as clear as ever. ''Conquer Essos, when I was younger. Bring peace when I
got older.''

Does he expect me to show mercy? ''I dreamed the same.''

''I know,'' Aegon took a sip from the skin of wine Jae brought him. ''I rather failed, haven't I?''

Their eyes met and the slaughter of the Battle at Death's Doorstep returned to the forefront. Jae
could see the crows circling in the sky. It's only been days. Surely the memory will fade. Aegon
buried his face in his hands only to remember his company. He went still and looked up again, jaw
clenched.

''Not entirely,'' Jae murmured. ''There will be peace now. You pulled all the traitors down with
you.''

''I rather hoped I'd be alive to see it.''

That couldn't happen. Not with Aegon. ''Traitors go to the Wall. Their leaders go to the block.''

''I know,'' he stared at Jae. ''So why are you here?''

''The entire Realm is converging on the capital for the trials, and to beg mercy.'' He paused for a
beat. ''The Lords of Dorne are among them.''

''Ah,'' Aegon nodded in understanding. ''You wish for me to confess.''

''You said you wanted peace. Your confession gives me a chance to secure it.'' The cold, black
stone pressed against his back as he watched Aegon.

''And ruin the Martells.'' Aegon took another sip from the skin. ''You get to avoid all cries to free
Oberyn.''

''The Martells will keep their position. I didn't win one war just to start another in Dorne.''

''And if I don't?''

''I'll instigate the civil war myself. I have no use for a Lord Paramount no one can trust or control.''

''Whereas if I confess, they'll be entirely reliant on you,'' Aegon nodded in appreciation. ''But why
should I go along with it? I'm a dead man, and you have nothing to threaten me with.'' He gave him
a jaded smile. ''Even you, the great Ice Dragon, could never get men to follow your noble ideals
without having something to offer or someone to threaten.''

''You don't have to,'' Jae shrugged, unconcerned. ''You can go to your grave bitter and defiant,
trying to cause as much damage as you can. You won't be the first.''
Aegon threw his head back and laughed. ''Ah, so that's what you're going with. A nifty trick, but it
won't work on me.''

''You lost the war, Aegon. Now you have to live with the consequences.''

''Easy for you to say.''

''Perhaps,'' Jae allowed. ''Go to your death trying to do as much damage as possible then, but know
it won't be much. You didn't bed Myrcella. No son of yours will ever grow up to trouble me. The
only ones who'll end up hurt by your action will be the Martells and between my dragons and the
resentment of their own lords' bannermen, taking care of that problem shouldn't take very long.''

''Why should I care about the Martells? They're the ones who pulled me into this mess in the first
place.'' He hissed, the mask of acceptance he'd adopted slipping to reveal the acid hatred beneath.

''As you will,'' Jae stood from his place. He had nothing more to say, and he refused to beg.

As he moved through the doorway, Aegon said, ''Tywin said we should execute Daenerys and send
her your head. He said the rage would've blinded you, and kept your mind away from the politics
you love so much.''

Jae turned back to him, fighting back the tide of dread that rose in his chest at the very thought of
it. ''Why didn't you?''

''Didn't want to win the war that way.'' He bit back a snarl. ''Though I'd have done it if I knew it
was the only way to win the war.''

''You're not the first one to become a monster in the face of defeat, Aegon. You should be grateful
I'll make sure not many will get to see you this way.'' Jae told him and walked away without
another word. Barristan's torch lit their way through the darkness and up the stairs out of the Black
Cells.

The cells on the next floor were far kinder to its prisoners; they sat behind bars rather than in
closed cells, and the thin ray of light from above gave them at least some respite from the unending
darkness. Some sat inside, fully accepting of their fate. Tyrion Lannister watched Jae pass with
quiet eyes, saying nothing. Myrcella Lannister wept quietly while her mother gripped at the bars as
she saw him approach.

''Traitor! Usurper!'' she screamed, a look of unholy madness on her face. Her once-flowing golden
hair had become a matted mess of dirt and grime. ''Lannisters always pay their debts!''

Yes, and you'll pay them in blood. Jae walked on without a word. The last few days had been one
never-ending headache. Winning the war is one thing, ending it quite another. He had to be
ruthless, but show mercy where there was room for it.

If he didn't have dragons, he'd never consider removing a House as Lords Paramount. It would
come with too much strife and struggle, and he'd end up fighting one war after another to pacify
different regions. But dragons make my word law. He could appoint a hedge knight the Warden of
the West and none would challenge it. Not when the promise of a visit from Vermithor and Meleys
hung in the air.

He came out into the open air of the middle bailey and smiled. The Red Keep. He'd never fully
acknowledged how much he loved the accursed castle. It had never been his, and he always
thought himself little more than a guest. But I'm not anymore. The Red Keep is mine, and I mean to
keep it.
Ser Arthur and Ser Loras waited for him by the exit from the Black Cells and together they all set
off toward the Small Council chambers. Baratheon and Targaryen men patrolled the castle in
strong numbers, little by little displacing the men under the control of the Tyrells.

He caught sight of Daenerys dashing across the outer bailey as they passed under the portcullis.
''Dany!'' he called.

She stopped and turned to him, quickly falling into a curtsy. ''Your Grace,'' she said with a smile.

''I'm just going to meet with the Lady Olenna and Margaery. Care to join me?'' he asked.

Dany had taken the Red Keep in the night with little to no blood, expertly gaining control of the
Goldcloaks by assassinating the Lannister-controlled lickspittle that commanded them and
replacing him with Ser Jacelyn Bywater, a man far more friendly to Jaehaerys than Aegon. She
even brought Velaryon and Rosby on-side, using promises of lands and threats of dragons to great
effect.

Jae meant to keep her close in his council, even if she never wanted to marry him.

''Uh, of course, Your Grace.'' She offered a strained smile that had his alarm bells ringing, but he
dismissed it. She'd been acting a bit strange since his return to the capital, but he knew it would all
come out in due time. It's not as if I have to fear treason from her.

''Having a good day?'' he asked as they walked arm in arm across the bailey.

''Good enough.''

''How's Meleys?''

''Wonderful,'' she exclaimed, giddy as a little child, all tension forgotten. ''She grows bigger by the
day. I've ordered all the books on dragonlore to be brought from Dragonstone. I hope you don't
mind.''

''Of course not,'' He, too, watched Vermithor closely, taking note of every growth spurt so he might
determine how long it would take for him to fly across the sky. Since his return to the Red Keep,
the dragons had commandeered the Godswood, hunting squirrels and rats. It meant the nobles and
the servants avoided the Godswood, but their comfort meant little to him.

I have to rebuild the Dragon Pit. Not to chain them, but to give them a place to roost, since he
hoped that one day they'd be too large to be housed in the Red Keep.

They walked past the pair of guards that stood on each side of the entrance to the Small Council
chambers and into the entrance hall, where a surprise waited for them.

''Your Grace,'' Princess Elia stood up from a chair that sat against the wall where nobles often
waited to be received by the Small Council. Rhaenys stood right next to her. The two had bounced
back remarkably well from the disaster at Death's Doorstep, helped in no small part by Jae's
assurances that he had no intention of executing them. Rhaenys shone in her purple silk dress,
while Elia found a well of fierceness that more than made up for Oberyn's absence.

''Princess, sister,'' he gave them a nod. ''How may I help you?''

''We were hoping to speak to you about a matter of great import,'' Elia said as Rhaenys wrung her
hands. Strange.
''Lord Tyrell awaits inside,'' Ser Arthur whispered to him from behind.

''Ladies, is there any chance this discussion could wait? There are some things I must deal with
first.''

''Of course, Your Grace, but if you don't mind we'll wait here until you do.'' Elia insisted. She'd
already begged for Oberyn's release and moved up to demanding it when begging proved futile, so
he could only wonder what the third approach would be.

''As you will,'' he nodded and walked into the Small Council chambers. Loras held the door open
for him and he walked in to find Mace Tyrell slumped in a chair, Lady Olenna tapping her cane on
the floor while Margaery sat with her back as straight as a spear, and about as stiff.

''Lord Tyrell,'' he said as they all stood up. ''My ladies.'' He walked to the head of the table and sat
down, Daenerys taking the place by his side. ''I trust we all know why we're here?''

''Indeed,'' Olenna bit out. ''Now that we've given you your crown, you've come to cut us loose.''

This time around, Margaery offered no admonishment for her grandmother, only averted her gaze,
and wiped away an errant tear that escaped down her cheek. ''I've come to do the exact opposite,
my lady.''

''Truly? You've come to tell us Margaery will remain your only wife?'' she leaned forward in her
seat, her fingers drumming on her cane.

''You know that's impossible. I need an heir.''

''So keep Margaery as your first wife and marry another.''

''And you would accept such an arrangement?'' Margaery's eyes snapped to his, a glimmer of hope
awakening in them. He'd told her he meant to keep her as his wife and he meant it. The Tyrells
helped win him his throne, abandoning them now would be a recipe for trouble.

Olenna cocked her head. ''I've been told the High Septon rejected your proposal outright.''

''He is not the King,'' Jae replied in a tone of iron. ''Besides, I'm sure somehow, someway, we might
find ourselves a High Septon that's far more... sympathetic to our cause.''

Olenna's eyes lit up in understanding. If they want a Queen, and they don't want a religious war,
they might as well do the killing. He suspected the High Septon wouldn't live to see another dawn.

''And to further cement the alliance between the Reach and the Crown, I thought to offer your son
Lord Willas the position of Master of Coin.'' He glanced between them. Mace looked pleased as
can be, while Olenna most likely needed more time to accept the harsh reality, and remind herself I
had no hand in creating it.

Mace nodded before the Queen of Thorns could get a word in and Jae celebrated a moment of
victory. The Reach is in the fold, and they don't get an infusion of Royal Blood to annoy my
grandchildren with.

''Very well,'' he looked to Margaery. ''I trust you'll accept your quarters in Maegor's Holdfast now?''

''Of course, Your Grace,'' she nodded as she wiped at her eyes. From the corner of his eye, he saw
Daenerys staring at Margaery with a pinched look on her face.
''Good,'' he smiled at them all, pleased another problem had been resolved. ''You'll have to excuse
me now, I have a few more matters to handle.'' He told them with an expectant look and they stood
up as one and waddled out of his Chambers, unhappy but far from angry. Means we reached a
compromise.

When Lord Tyrell opened the door, he found Lord Baratheon storming through them. ''Your
Grace,'' he called and quickly crossed the room to Jae. ''An urgent dispatch from Lord Stark. The
rider claims he is but an hour away.''

''An hour?'' Jae repeated as he snatched the scroll from Orys' hands. ''He wasn't supposed to arrive
for another sennight.''

''They must've hurried,'' Orys murmured. Jae's eyes flew over the text, his frown deepening with
each word he read.

''Lord Stark asks that he be welcomed before the entire Court,''

''A bit presumptuous of him,''

''Claims it a matter of great urgency.'' He looked up at Orys. ''Uncle Ned isn't interested in a vanity
fair. This must be serious.''

Orys straightened his back, his eyes on the wall. Every bit the soldier. ''What are your orders, Your
Grace.''

''Summon my Court. I want every noble in King's Landing to wait in the Throne Room by the time
my Uncle gets here.'' He said, tapping the scroll against the table. What could it be?

''As you say,'' he bowed and marched out of the room. Jae heard him barking orders.

He got up from his seat and pushed past the pausing Tyrells who'd remained behind to listen.
Princess Elia and Rhaenys assaulted him the second he stepped out. ''Your Grace—''

''Not right now, my ladies, I have an urgent matter to deal with.''

He walked on, but then Rhaenys blurted out, ''It's Arianne. She's pregnant.''

He stopped in his stride and turned to her. She took a wary step back. ''With whose child?''

''Yours.''

''But I never—'' he went quiet. The night before Aegon's coronation. I couldn't have been that
drunk, could I? Daenerys stood beside him, stone-faced.

He turned and walked off without another word. This can wait, he told himself. I need to find out
what Uncle Ned is going on about first.

He passed by the Tower of the Hand and the Library and crossed the dry moat into Maegor's
Holdfast. ''Are you all right, Your Grace?'' Ser Loras asked as he struggled to keep up in his heavy
armor.

'''M fine,'' he murmured. ''Have someone bring me a bite to eat and a cup of wine.''

''Of course, Your Grace,'' he peeled off to go chase after some maid, leaving him alone with Ser
Arthur.
''Well done, Your Grace.'' Arthur chuckled.

Jae smiled in spite of himself. ''You're dornish, Arthur. What will this mean for the Lords and the
people?''

''It'll much improve your standing in Dorne.'' He said as they turned a corner and ascended up a
wide staircase toward Jae's chambers. ''The child, boy or girl, will be the ruler of Sunspear after
Arianne. I'm no politician, Your Grace, but this might be an opportunity for you.'' Jae nodded in
understanding. ''Though...''

''What?'' he barked as they reached his door.

''It won't do much good if you kill Oberyn.'' Of course, my child will look like the progeny of a
foreign invader, he pushed open the door when the most horrifying implication hit him. If I don't
have another child, Arianne's baby will be the Heir to the Throne. Oh, he could already see the
Lords of Westeros throwing a fit.

Ser Loras returned with his maids who came in carrying a platter of fruits and sausages, a pitcher of
wine, while a servant girl scurried around his chambers to lay out the clothes Daenerys chose for
his Court appearances. His Aunt had decided to garb him in shining reds and with only a tinge of
black to 'offset your somewhat cold reputation'. He hadn't figured out what she meant just yet.

He popped a grape in his mouth as they put on his red wool trousers and his red doublet with black
lining, embroidered with small heads of dragons in a darker shade of red. A fool in his
motley. ''Give me that wine,'' he commanded and downed it in on gulp. This has the potential for
another war. The Tyrells will never accept that they got a Queen and the dornish got an Heir.

I need to marry Daenerys, and soon. If only he knew how to broach the subject. He'd never been a
romantic, never needed to seduce anyone. Women seduced me. And far more successfully than he
thought. Seven Hells.

Ser Arthur handed over Blackfyre and Jae clasped the sword-belt around his waist. He laid his
crown over his brow; he had to have another one made since Aegon's usurping ways sullied the
masterpiece he gifted him. ''Let us go, then,'' he said and walked out of his chambers. The rest of
his Kingsguard waited outside, as they always do before a session of Court and they fell into step
behind him, hands on the pommels of their swords.

His mind churned over the implications of Rhaenys' revelation through the entire trek to the
Throne Room, to the point he nearly forgot about Uncle Ned's urgent dispatch. The door opened to
reveal the assembled Court. Daynes, Yronwoods, and Dalts from Dorne; Baratheons, Footes, and
Caferes from the Stormlands; Brackens, Motoons, and Freys of the Riverlands; every Reacher
House in existence. They all came.

Jae strode past them with a determined gait, sparing a glance for no one until he reached the Iron
Throne. Daenerys stood to its left in a golden dress, Orys to its right, clad in his black armor. The
two of them decided they'd never let anyone forget their martial prowess.

He climbed the stairs, conscious not to touch the blades for balance. When he reached the top, he
turned around and sat down. The cavernous hall stretched out before him and sitting on high, the
people looked small.

''Lord Hand, has Lord Stark arrived?'' he asked in a solemn voice.

''He has, Your Grace. He should present himself momentarily.''

Jae nodded and settled into his seat, saying nothing. Gentle whispers ran around the Throne Room,
various Lords and knights speculating about the reason behind the urgent meeting of the Court. He
heard the word 'Martell' once or twice, following by a glance his way. They already know.

The herald banged his staff against the ground. ''Lord Eddard Stark, Lord of Winterfell and Warden
of the North!'' The door opened and his Uncle strode through. Robb walked by his side, an
assortment of armed men and other Lords behind him.

They've aged. Ned had the first streaks of silver hair, while Robb no longer walked with the
careless swagger of the arrogant youth. The rest of the men fared no better, though Jae couldn't
judge. He'd always been told Northmen are a grim sort.

What's that? he wondered when he saw two men carrying a box twice the size of coffin between
them.

They all went down on one knee before him. ''Your Grace,'' Uncle Ned bowed his head. ''The news
of your victories have come as a great relief to the people of the North.''

''Rise, Lord Stark, and welcome to the capital.'' He gave a restrained smile; Kings have to keep their
emotions in check. ''I thank you for your kind words.'' Jae smoothed down his doublet, and
continued, ''I would offer you the hospitality of the Red Keep to rest after such a long journey, but
your messenger claimed you come with urgent news.''

''I do,'' He gave a nod. ''As you know, Your Grace, for the past moons the Lords of the North have
battled the Wildlings at the Wall.''

''Have there been complications? I was under the impression the Wildlings were defeated.''

''Not so much defeated as... pacified, Your Grace. In my capacity as Warden of the North, I
negotiated peace with the King-Beyond-the-Wall, Mance Rayder, and allowed his people to cross
the Wall.''

Whispers spread across the Throne Room. The Northmen must've heard some of them because
they threw angry looks at the crowd surrounding them. Jae raised a hand and the courtiers fell
silent. ''I presume you have a good explanation?''

''Yes, Your Grace. The Wildlings pushed south because they were fleeing for their lived, chased by
an ancient enemy.'' He paused and swallowed heavily. ''The Others.''

The Lords and the Ladies did not bother to cover their derisive snorts this time, openly laughing at
the superstitious heathens. I have to tread carefully. ''The Others?'' he repeated.

''Yes, Your Grace.''

''You have proof of this?'' Please, please, Uncle Ned, tell me you brought proof.

''I do, Your Grace.'' The smiles died down, and the eyes of the court turned to the wooden box.
Uncle Ned approached it as the Northmen backtracked to a safe distance.

''I will ask you not to come closer than ten feet,'' he warned and tipped the box over. Nothing
happened at first, then a thing out of his nightmares crawled out, looked about with its ice-blue
eyes, and sprinted straight for Jaehaerys. Rotted skin peeled off its bones and tendons, the frayed
remains of what had once been furs hanging off its frame. It shrieked and hissed at them, reaching
forth with its bony fingers. A horrified groan went through the Throne Room, a number of Ladies
fainting at the sight of a legend.
 Uncle Ned jerked on the chain and sent the monstrous remains of a human flying back across the
floor. The Kingsguard unsheathed its sword and advanced to put an end to it. ''Stop!'' Jae thundered.
Everyone froze.

He stood up and descended the steps of the Iron Throne. He approached the creatures that kept
trying to lounge for him. ''If I may, Your Grace?'' Robb approached from the side, his sword
drawn.

Jae gave him a nod. ''Ordinary steel does not work on them.'' He slashed the monster in half. It fell
to the floor and began crawling towards them with its hands. Lord Tyrell puked.

''What does?'' Seven Hells, tell me you know.

''Valyrian steel,'' Robb told him. ''Fire. And the Wildlings told us dragon glass will kill them as
well.'' Robb's eyes found him, grim and foreboding. ''Winter has come.''

Need to send the troops to the Wall. Farm every patch of land. Mine the dragon glass on
Dragonstone. Empty Casterly Rock of all its gold and send it to Essos. Going to need more food. A
thousand thoughts went through his mind, a problem for every solution, and with it the terrible
premonition that the horrors he'd witnessed had been but the beginning of something far worse.

''My Lord Hand,'' he called without taking his eyes off the creature.

''Your Grace,'' Lord Orys approached, a tremor in his voice.

''Call the banners.''

THE END

Chapter End Notes

Here it is, at last. I'm sorry for the long wait.

I'd like to thank everyone who stuck with me as I wrote this here little story. Your
support has been invaluable. I hope you enjoyed reading it half as much as I enjoyed
writing it.
I already know the questions will come, so here it is; no, I do not believe I will write a
sequel to this story, though I'm not stupid enough to say, ''Never!''.
It is with a fond smile that I say good-bye to this fandom and all the wonderful people
that call themselves its members.
Keep reading. Keep writing. Make some magic.
See 'ya!

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