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Lessons Yet to Learn
Averting the Greater Misfortune
The first pink of the dawn had barely touched the red stones that gave the great castle its name when Aegon appeared at the drawbridge, still rubbing his sleepy eyes. The Kingsguard stationed at the end let him in immediately – the Prince was one of the people given unlimited access to his father's person. Still, watching at him stumbling down the bridge, the white knight could not help but wonder what had brought him over here in this hour when he'd clearly rather sleep the rest of the early morning away.
Aegon was asking himself the same question but he already knew the answer. Only five days had elapsed since the coronation and he still hadn't found the right moment to talk to his father. Maekar was constantly surrounded by people, being particularly innerved at those who crowded to curry his favour. At least the Small Council had a sensible reason for approaching him each time he left Maegor's Holdfast. The realm was still in disarray and the famine caused by the failed harvest was not about to go away simply because the man on the Iron Throne had changed. There was no time for Aegon's questions and when in the late evening he and Rhae did see their father for a moment, he was so irritable that no serious conversation was possible. In fact, he paid them no mind, focusing only on his grandchildren. They seemed to soothe his raw nerves.
Aegon walked down the hallways, remembering all the times he had walked them as a young child, wondering why the royal abode was so different from the rest of the Red Keep. "It scares me," he had said. "There aren't any people here. And it's so dark. The sun cannot push its way through those thick walls."
His grandfather, King Daeron, had laughed. "It scared me, too, when I was your age. It is a very dark place built by a very dark man. But you know what? It's the people inside making it the way it is. It changes with each new occupant."
Servants were already awake, bustling about, taking stubs of candles down and sweeping the floors. For a moment, Aegon imagined what the Maegor's Holdfast would look like if the court peacocks found their way here to waylay his father at his setting a foot out of his apartments. All of a sudden, it felt like a good thing that the stronghold was so secluded!
The unexpected clash came at the very door of the royal bedchamber where the two Kingsguard – why two, Aegon wondered briefly – simply refused to let him in despite Maekar's permission for him to come at any time.
"I doubt His Grace meant that you could just come in and wake him up," Ser Roland Crakehall said in response to Aegon's insistence.
"He's probably already awake," Aegon said reasonably. "He's up very early and the Small Council is summoned for sunrise."
"That might be so," the older man said. "But he hasn't shown up yet and I cannot let you go in and disturb him without his explicit command. I am sorry."
The Prince stared at him, wondering what had gotten into both him and his sworn brother. Then, he simply went between them before they knew what was going on and pushed the double oak doors open. Behind him, a muffled cry came, "Wait! The King isn't…"
But he was already in the spacious antechamber, with its jade floor and upholstered benches. Without hesitation, he drew the red curtain hanging in front of an archway and entered the royal bedchamber.
There were some embers dying out in one of the twin hearths and Aegon was surprised. His father was a man who didn't like heat much and even in Maegor's Holdfast, it was summer.
There was no noise, no candlelight. It was clear that Maekar hadn't risen yet. Aegon decided to wait. He flung a garment out of a huge chair – another thing that was inconsistent with Maekar's fondness of order – and took a seat, fighting his own fatigue.
"Who's there?" a voice asked from behind the closed curtains of the bed.
For a moment, Aegon's mind was paralyzed. His eyes went to the outfit he had discarded so nonchalantly; now, he saw that it was a woman's robe.
The curtains of the bed parted to reveal the Queen Dowager, clad in a quickly thrown robe over a nightgown. At seeing him, her eyes widened but otherwise, she gave no indication of her shock. Instead, she came near and asked in a low voice, "Is something the matter?"
Aegon's throat had gone dry but he finally found his voice. "I… I just wanted to talk to Father."
"He's asleep," Aelinor said. "Is it important?"
"It is, to me."
"I see," she said, taking a seat in a nearby chair. Dawn had started making its way through the slit between the curtains and the young man saw that his aunt was also fighting to wake up. "I'm afraid it'll have to wait, then. Lately, he cannot sleep well and I won't wake him up now that he's gone to sleep. One of those days, he'll crumble down where he is."
"But if I go away now, I won't be able to talk to him until…"
He had meant to say tomorrow but paused. There was no way that he would come tomorrow, knowing that she'd be here. He wouldn't have set foot in this chamber today, either, had he known!
"He's sleeping, Aegon."
"The Small Council is gathering at sunrise," he said, not daring to meet her eye. "He needs to rise anyway."
Aelinor glared at him, showing her anger. "Leave him alone," she hissed. "I know which time the Council gathers. That means that he can have some more sleep. The Seven know that he needs it."
Aegon only watched her, mesmerized by her fierce protective anger. She sighed and returned to her normal gentle voice. "He hasn't had a real rest in months. Aerys' illness, Dagon Greyjoy, this new kingly duties… Let him have his rest for now. Please."
Aegon sighed. In truth, he didn't want his father to start questioning him what he was doing in his bedchamber in such an hour. It would only become more awkward than it already was.
"I'll wait for a better moment," he said.
"Thank you," Aelinor replied without seeing him off – she had no desire to make it worse by attracting his notice to the fact that she was only in a nightgown and robe. Besides, in the morning, before she stirred up to activity, her leg ached quite badly.
When he disappeared behind the curtain, she returned to bed. Maekar murmured something without opening his eyes and draped an arm over her. She snuggled against his warmth and stayed like this until, reluctantly, she had to wake him up.
"Does this child knows something other than running about?" Daeron asked. "I swear, I get tired just by watching him."
Rhae looked at him over Jaehaerys' head. Lately, the little one had been ill again and was now especially clingy. "What is he doing again?" she asked. "No, don't tell me. I don't want to know. Aegon?" she said when her husband entered her solar. "Where were you? You were already out when I woke up…"
He took a seat opposite her and looked with surprise at Aemon who opened the door before he could say something more and poured himself tea before he had even sat down. "I thought you were with the Council."
"What would I do there?" Aemon asked, looking surprised. "That's the Grand Maester's job."
"I just thought… Never mind that. Sit down. You'll never believe what I found out. I went to talk to Father. I wanted to ask why he appointed Lord Bloodraven…"
"That, I could have told you, as well," Aemon said.
"Yes," Aegon murmured darkly. "I am sure you could. Anyway, I went to his bedchamber and I found..."
"What?" Daeron asked, looking intrigued.
"Aunt Aelinor. Before sunrise."
"I don't believe you."
Aegon reached for a hunk of bread. "I don't believe me either."
"I don't believe you," Jaehaerys repeated happily, and Aegon laughed.
"What did he say?" Daeron asked. "Why was she there?"
"He didn't say anything. He was sleeping."
All of a sudden, Aemon laughed. "I suggest that you don't go over there whenever you feel like your questions can't wait!" he said. "Because they usually can."
His brother glared. "I already figured that out." Abruptly, he grinned, seeing the funny side of the story. "Gods, what a sight I must have been standing there gaping like a jester…"
"For how long do you think it's been going on?" Daeron asked, still stunned. "I never knew. You think that while Mother was alive…"
"No," Aemon cut him off, firmly. "Surely not."
"Why are you so sure?"
"Because it would be against honour and propriety," the young Maester explained simply, making silly faces at Jaehaerys who laughed in delight. Aegon wondered how he managed to both amuse the child and speak so seriously. "I doubt that in his entire life, Father had gone against those, not he. If he had, he would have probably been happier."
"And now…?" Aegon asked.
"Now, Mother is dead. Uncle Aerys is dead as well. And honestly, do you think that Father can sink further where reputation is concerned? He's hardly the first king to take a mistress," he explained, made a gesture over Jaehaerys' ear, and showed him a nut that he claimed he had taken out of his ear. Jaehaerys squealed with delight. "He made his proper match and so did she. What they do from now on matters to them only."
"But…"
"But it's their business and none of ours," Rhae said firmly. "By the gods, are Aemon and I the only ones who don't take it as a great family tragedy? Please, we know what family tragedies look like…"
Now, that was a reasoning a Targaryen could hardly argue with, so they didn't even try.
"I was told you wanted to talk to me."
Aegon swallowed. "I… I did."
In the candlelight, his father's face looked even harsher. In the last years, the young man had had the feeling that Maekar's heart was hardening day by day. Suddenly, he realized that Aelinor had always been the only one who could take the edge off his sternness. Something more, she seemed to enjoy spending time with him. The changes in his temper – for worse – didn't seem to matter to her.
"Go on, then," Maekar invited. "Talk."
From the next room, they could hear Rhaelle's chattering. But today, Maekar didn't send for the children as he always did. Instead, he was looking at his son calmly, expectantly.
"Bloodraven," Aegon blurted out. "Why did you let him keep his office? I thought you hated him."
"What by the gods ever gave you this idea?" Maekar asked, looking so surprised that Aegon felt like an utter fool. But he had no reason to feel this way. The two men had never acted in a way that showed otherwise.
All of a sudden, Maekar smiled. "Ah, I see. You've just got it wrong, that's all. Brynden Rivers and I, we understand each other. We might dislike each other but we understand each other. That's how it always was. Some of his methods might not be to my liking but since I cannot come up with something better, we employ them."
"You… trust him?"
"I do," Maekar said without hesitation. "He's loyal to the crown. And the crown is mine."
"But people say…"
Maekar huffed. "What do I care about what people say about him? They don't love me either. I know the truth, and mine is the only opinion that counts. He's staying because I want him to stay. Because I know just how far his ambitions reach… and the line they will never cross. And I have always known that. Do you have some other questions?"
Aegon looked away and went to the bay window to look at the sea and muster his courage. The last light of the sun spread across the sea a huge sack of raw diamonds and rubies. "Aunt Aelinor," he said and turned to look at his father, at last. "Why did you take her to your chambers?"
Maekar stared at him in disbelief, stricken mum with surprise. "Why do you think I took her there?"
He hadn't lashed out at Aegon, saying that it was none of his business, and the young Prince took that as a sign that he was encouraged to ask questions. "Since when…?"
"Always," Maekar said without hesitation. "Since the day of my birth, some say… her second nameday. Certainly as long as I can remember. I wanted to wed her and it was supposed to happen… but then something else came in the way."
"What was it?"
Maekar paused and then waved a hand dismissively. "Doesn't matter. Let's say that your grandfather was right in placing bigger things ahead of the needs and desires of two spoiled youths, even if those two were his own beloved children. I can't fathom what made Daemon think that he was so much more important than the good of the kingdom after he saw that even we weren't," he added, absent-mindedly before focusing on the conversation again.
With a sudden pang, Aegon asked, "Is that how you saw us – Rhae and I? Spoiled youths, irresponsible children who only thought about themselves?"
His father didn't look away. "If you didn't know what I thought, you would have come to me and plead your cause, instead of wedding in secret."
Aegon knew that was Maekar's honest opinion, had known it all along and yet he was surprised how much it hurt.
"You would have refused us."
Maekar shook his head in despair. "Of course I would have. We're Targaryens. We weren't born to chase after our own happiness. We must all do our duty. And since young people are too selfish to understand this, it falls to their parents to intervene and avert the greater misfortune, no matter how hard that might be for all. Don't you understand?"
"I do," Aegon sighed. Cruel as it was, it was the truth – and the truth was terrible.
"I hope you do." His father fixed him with unblinking stare. "I really, really hope you do."
