"Build your web. When your grip falters, it will be there to catch you."
"Raise the matter at court, Lord Bracken," Aemon told the lord who was so stubbornly following at his heels, all but begging for an audience. "That is why we hold court: the air our grievances and resolve them publicly. Or raise the matter with Lord Tully. As your liege, he will be able to arbitrate the matter."
Quite frankly, said lord's liege should have been the one to arbitrate the matter. Some reemerging dispute between Blackwoods and Brackens had lain dormant ever since Aemon's father had managed to solve some other quarrel of theirs by satisfying both parties. But since his father was incapable of ruling, there were those in the realm who wondered if that same conciliating spirit would endure. Where there were those who wondered were those who doubted. And those who doubted were taking steps to not be left behind.
Like this Lord Bracken.
"Your Grace, what about the Stepstones?" another lord asked, this one a Staunton. At least this one was from the Crownlands, but he had taken Aemon's verbal dismissal of the Riverlander as a public announcement that the prince regent was receiving petitioners instead of simply wanting to walk around the Red Keep for a little while. "To whom will the islands be granted?"
"They will remain royal holdings," Aemon said, taking immediate steps to prevent what would no doubt be the next question. "Should it be deemed necessary, administrators will be appointed."
Unfortunately, Lord Staunton decided this would be the perfect time to extol his cousin's loyalty and competence. Fortunately, this stream of entirely unwanted praise and flattery of some individual who was not even present was soon cut off by another noble.
"Your Grace, regarding the shipping route through the Stepstones…" the man asking was, surprisingly enough, another noble. A Darklyn, also from the Crownlands. No doubt he wished to revive his house's past glories. Or he had more coin than he knew to use. "There is a dispute over jurisdiction…"
"Raise the matter at court, my lord, it will be handled then," Aemon deflected, this issue being something far more intricate than he could answer quickly, but the noble was not so easily deterred.
"Your Grace, I was directed by your brother to speak with you," he persisted.
"Vaegon?"
"His Grace the Hand of the King, yes," the noble nodded. "He said it was your domain, not his."
This man had come to Vaegon ahead of him? The Hand before the Prince Regent? The thought was enough to incite panic, but not enough to show on his face. But more than enough to stop him in his tracks. No, this was madness. Vaegon had simply been the one to take further questions from the court back when the regency was announced. The courtiers had simply associated that role with him. To think this was nefarious was utter foolishness.
"Then come to court, my lord, and you shall be the first to be heard," Aemon assured him, already rearranging his remaining tasks for the day. His brother had sent this man to him, as by all rights he should have done. Unless he wished to discredit his own Hand, he could hardly ignore the Darklyn forever. "But first, I think I must see my brother."
"He is in the gardens, Your Grace," one of the knights of the Kingsguard, one of his new appointments, said. At Aemon's rather pointed look, he went on to explain. "His Grace the Hand and his friends had planned this for some time and gave us advance notice."
So Vaegon told the Kingsguard his plans, but not his own brother? Was he being kept completely in the dark? How much did he truly know?
Aemon shook his head. Again with the paranoia.
Eventually, he and his not insignificant gaggle of hangers-on and sycophants managed to trudge through the Red Keep and into the large gardens contained within the outer walls. Was this what it had been like for Father? How had he endured the constant hounding? Doubts being drowned out in a constant sea of petitions and sycophancy?
Surprisingly, it was not merely Vaegon and his friends in the gardens. There was a rather impressive number of merchants gathered all around the garden, with at least as many knights in attendance. There were even a few septons to be spotted. Fortunately for Aemon's worries, it did not appear to be a session of court in all but name. Instead, men from all walks of life and of high and low birth sat and stood around in the odd clusters, with sparse conversation filling the air.
An excuse to be close to a prince, no doubt, disguised as a social gathering.
"… and then he wanted me to join the Kingsguard!" his sister Alyssa's voice rang through the air, swiftly followed by some polite laughter. Well, mostly polite. A few voices were more than a little amused. Aemon could not see his sister, but her voice was easy enough to follow. "I mean honestly, you of all people should know that I like to be a mother!"
"One month later, and you are still laughing at that?" the harsher voice of Vaegon asked. Even when his tone was light and colored by good humor, there was an eternal reminder of just what kind of man he had been. "Look, if we made you their sworn shield, what difference would it make? If you are around the children at all times because it would be your duty as a knight instead of as a parent, would that make you any less their mother?"
"It's a matter of principle. You could always appoint another sworn shield, and then your assurances would be worth as much as a counterfeit copper!"
"Do you distrust me that much?" Vaegon asked. "Besides, making you a Kingsguard would also save me the effort of coming up with an excuse to acquit you when some callow youth with more ambition than sense decides the young widowed mother with a dragon is the perfect way to advance his standing in the realm."
"I believe at that point it is considered a retroactive trial by combat," the smoother voice Corlys Velaryon chimed in.
"Trials by combat are a sacred tradition," Vaegon pointed out, mild reproach clear in his tone.
"And I am certain that if you required it, the septons of the realm would gather by the hundred clamoring to grant it legitimacy," Corlys countered, and that was roughly the moment Aemon reached his kin. Seated in a rough circle in one of the squares within the gardens were all of his grown siblings and good-brothers. Some were seated on the low benches that lined the area, others occupied seats seemingly brought in specifically for this meeting. Two of them, Alyssa and Daella, carried small cloth-covered bundles.
"I never thought I needed to say this, but please do not attempt to twist the legal system to suit your current needs," Aemon said, trying and failing to keep his disappointment from showing in his voice. Was Vaegon really prepared to allow their sister to get away with murder? Well, at least nobody could say he did not love his family.
"Then start writing laws," Vaegon pointed out, paying no mind to the horde that Aemon had brought with him. "It hardly counts as twisting the system if the Master of Laws does it. And it is good to see you, too, brother."
"Likewise," Aemon allowed.
"Or we could assume I am not going to go on a murder spree just because someone doesn't understand the concept of mourning," Alyssa mentioned. Earning another chuckle.
"A Targaryen with a reasonable approach?" a man in Mooton colors asked. "Perish the thought."
"You only say that because you spend so much time with Vaegon," Maegelle commented, keeping a watchful eye on Daella at her side. No, not on Daella, on the bundle her younger sister carried, one which occasionally shifted in her arms. Ah, so they had brought the babes along.
The Mooton made to speak, only to glance over at Aemon and quickly close his mouth.
"Why are you out here?" Aemon asked his brother. "Shouldn't you be dealing with your duties?"
"The children are playing with each other, my friends and family are relaxing, and the masters of the guilds are debating amongst themselves," Vaegon said. "My duties are being dealt with, all I must do now is wait. Though while you are here, I could use your help."
"Really?" Aemon did not believe his brother for an instant. Vaegon? Needing help?
"Truly," he confirmed, seemingly earnest. "Do you remember that army I raised to take the Stepstones?"
"Of course," he answered before a realization dawned on him "Please tell me you have disbanded your army."
"I would like to do nothing less," Vaegon said. "Though I am loath to leave the islands undefended. Have you managed to arrange a garrison for each island yet, or should I ask Lord Tyrell to reimburse my expenses?"
"Could you not have them settle the island?" Honestly, having veterans settle on the islands would solve several problems. Not only would it establish a loyal population, but it would also make it easy to quickly raise troops if pirates tried their luck once more.
"They are from King's Landing," Vaegon pointed out. "They want to go home. Besides, it is rather difficult to establish a settlement without women. In my haste to win the war, I must have forgotten to include them."
Aemon sighed, massaging his brow as a headache threatened to emerge. The polite chuckles all around him did not help things.
"Why could you not have mentioned this during a Small Council meeting?"
"Because I have only recently received the first report," he explained, his voice somehow still cheerful. "And you are here now. Why wait?"
Silence reigned, and Aemon could do little more than massage his brow. This headache would persist for a while, he just knew. He could hardly force Vaegon to keep his army raised without compensation in times of peace. Then again, he could hardly force him to disband his army without leaving the Stepstones undefended. He would find a solution. He always did.
Well, most of the time.
Mayhaps he would find a solution when he finally gave the city a closer look?
...
Hey guys I really need you to throw some power stones to elevate the ranking :)
...
If you want to read ahead of the public release, or just want to support me.
you can join my p atreon :
p@treon.com/Nolma