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A Crown in the Balance

Chapter 2

Jaehaerys went with measured steps through the narrow passages connecting the royal apartments with the official part of the Red Keep where the lords had gathered in. He went past closed doors and sparsely lit hallways with no hesitation and no thought as to his route. When he saw the hall where the Small Council convened, though, he paused – he couldn't help it. He knew that there was no one in there, yet he opened the door slightly and for a moment stood staring at the big table, at the eight chairs of sandalwood and meticulously arranged parchments. How often he had come here as a child, sitting near his grandfather at the sessions, listening to everything and understanding maybe half of it but willing, wanting to understand. King Maekar had taken him along, with the only condition that the boy kept silent. Yet the older Jaehaerys got, the more common it became for the King to turn to him at once and ask a question about Jaehaerys' thoughts regarding the particular problem they were trying to solve. And Jaehaerys loved giving answers that elicited a smile of content from his grandfather because it was so rare for the hardened King to show affection when there were outsiders there.

He had never expected that one day, he'd sit in Maekar's place, had never desired it. Mother help him, he did not even sit in his father's council, yet he was now expected to suddenly become an heir of all? All responsibilities, all that one should have been taught? What were they all thinking? That it could actually work?

Someone touched his hand lightly and Jaehaerys found himself staring at a pair of big purple eyes full of reproach. The boy looked at him and then pointed, quite plainly, far down the corridor. "Fine," Jaehaerys sighed and noticed that he didn't need to look down much to look at his cousin face to face. "Fine, Rhaegar. I get it. I'm going."

The boy stared at him and then folded his arms, making it clear that he was not going anywhere until Jaehaerys went on his way; slightly amused, the older Targaryen thought that the entire family seemed so keen on seeing him making it to the hall as if they expected he'd bolt out if they let him out of their sight, it was almost funny. "I was just thinking of Grandfather," he said but of course, Rhaegar wouldn't understand. He didn't remember their grandfather. He didn't even remember his father… and that was a good thing. Some people said that one should speak only good of the dead or keep silent but Jaehaerys thought that truth was truth, no matter who lived and who did not. And the truth about Aerion Brightflame was that everyone was better off with him being dead, Rhaegar included. "I'm going."

The end of the corridor led him up a spiral staircase and an empty room. He clicked open a small aperture in the wainscoting and stepped to a peephole looking out onto the great hall where the first Targaryen kings had held their meetings with their military commanders and where the four Wardens and the seven members of the Small Council were already gathering around the huge rough table.

The Hand of the King was the last one to sit down – a clear signal that the meeting could begin. Silence descended. Then, a tall man slowly rose. Jaehaerys recognized the stern face of Jasper Arryn, the old but imposing and powerful-looking Warden of the East. That did not surprise him in the least – the man had reputation of daring and brutal honesty.

Jasper's voice reverberated against the walls, "Noble lords, it's a hard decision we are asked to make. I am a father and I can relate to how hard it must be for our liege lord the King. But the truth is that we should not heed his will in this. No man, and I least of all, would deny Prince Jaehaerys' makings. There are many of them, and only a madman would fail to be proud of having a son like him."

Not the wisest choice of words, Jaehaerys thought dryly. Madness held peculiar meaning when mentioned in any regard to the royal family of the Seven Kingdoms. His hands started knotting his doublet, waiting for the harsh part that would follow the pleasantries, albeit, the Seven help him, it seemed as if the man actually meant them.

Lord Arryn did not disappoint. "But the sad fact is, his state of health creates dangerous uncertainty. He's been living on the Stranger's mercy ever since the day he was born. We live in dangerous times, my lords. Prince Duncan's marriage is only following the unrest that Prince Jaehaerys' choice of bride created and that took so long to die away. The lords see these love matches as treason and unwillingness on the Targaryens' part to fulfill their duty to the realm. The Blackfyre threat is never ending and the events that took place mere six years ago should serve as warning that their cunning and ambition had not abated with time."

Events. For a moment Jaehaerys saw red. His hands came into fists. In this moment, all he thought was that should he become King, he'd have Lord Arryn's tongue cut out and consequences be damned.

A gentle hand detained him. He found himself face to face with a man who was way older than his father, yet still possessed some of the strength that, in his prime, must have been something to be reckoned with. His dark eyes glimmered. "Your Grace, please. Your time will come."

Jaehaerys stopped. Ser Galend's simple gesture spoke volumes. He, who had been Jaehaerys' grandfather's closest friend, he who had been part of the young man's life since Jaehaerys could remember, had never touched someone of royal blood without permission.

In the hall, Lord Arryn went on. "We'll need some strong leadership in the hard times to come. Strong not only in spirit but in body. And I'm afraid Prince Jaehaerys isn't it. Prince Aerys is only six. If, the Seven forbid, King Aegon's days are over soon, we might very well found ourselves with a minor King in a year or two. And then what? We'll be summoned again to confirm a regent?"

"What an idiot you are," Ser Galend muttered. "Have you forgotten what happened to our last king who had been dangerously ill only once in his life? Lots of good it did him against Haegon Blackfyre's mace."

Jaehaerys chuckled, suddenly reassured that not everything had changed. He distinctly remembered Ser Galend being quite irreverent straight to Maekar's face when he felt justified. He was a no-nonsense man, always had been.

Now, the King's Hand stood up, a slim pillar of dark finery and icy indignation. "By the Seven, never have I heard the like! How dare you presume not only the King's impeding death but also the Prince's one? What do you suggest we do, my lord? Violate the line of succession? Based on what, your personal preference on how Westeros should be ruled? What if I now say I consider your second son, Ronnel, to be a better choice to succeed you as Warden of the East? I hear he's quite the administrator."

To Lord Arryn's credit, he did not rise to the bait. "We are not discussing my sons here," he said. "We're talking about the future of the Seven Kingdoms."

"Aye," Alor Gargalen agreed. "And what exactly do you propose we do with it, my Lord Warden? Entrust it to Prince Aemon instead?"

Without waiting for the other's answer, he swerved to the others who could not take their eyes off him. Gone were the days when he was the hated Dornishman, the bastard, the opportunist who had clawed his way to the top from under Princess Daella's skirts. Now, people no longer said his name with curses but with praise and honour. He had proved that he deserved his position by the virtue of his abilities; his opinion could not be of no meaning to the gathered lords.

"I have met with His Grace more often than any of you here," he went on. "I have spoken to him at length and I assure you that what he lacks in constitution, he makes up for in determination and devotion. Being a warrior is a good thing, my lords; however, having a good head on one's shoulders is even better. I do not deny any of Prince Aemon's makings. But I see no need of us to rely on them in his capacity of King of Westeros and honestly, neither does the Prince. Not when we have a perfectly acceptable, excellent, lawful choice instead. I say no to your request, Lord Arryn; no, to the disinheritance of our King's elder son, Prince Jaehaerys!"

The assembly erupted. Shouts shook the hall, lords and members of the Council started arguing with each other, fists banged on the table – now, Jaehaerys realized how wise the first Aegon had been to order it massive and rough – and caps were torn off brows and thrown on the floor. The Hand sat back, a satisfied smile on his face.

"It's time," Ser Galend muttered and watched the young man descend a narrow flight of steps to a small door opening into the hall.

Jaehaerys waited for a while. The noise slowly faded.

He opened the door and walked into the hall.