His father was dead, and his brother sat the throne. Not Baelor, no Baelor was still dead, the blow Maekar had struck had still killed him and no matter how often Maekar prayed before the Seven to bring his brother back, they did not answer. No, his brother Aerys was King, and there was a man most unsuited to the position. Aerys preferred books, he had never even attended a council meeting in the moons that he had been able to attend them. He preferred his books over his wife as well. Maekar knew that whoever became Hand of the King would rule the realm, and though he did not want the throne he knew the only way to prevent the realm going to chaos was if he took the position as Hand. Bloodraven was obsessed with Bittersteel and would ignore everything else.

Aerys had been crowned King some two weeks ago, and had not yet named a Hand. Their father had been burned as had Valarr and Matarys, the council had met and Maekar as the senior Prince of the Blood had dictated what needed to be done. Aerys had not attended that, but he had summoned Maekar to his chambers. Maekar stood before his brother, waiting for his brother to finish reading. When the man eventually did so, he closed the book and said. "I've decided on who I am naming Hand, brother. I did not want the throne, Baelor would have made a much better King than I. Therefore, I need someone who I can count on and someone who knows the laws of the Kingdom to the very minute degree." Maekar felt himself puff up with pride then, he knew this would come. "I need someone who will ensure that there is peace and prosperity within the realm and will do what it takes to keep the peace with Bittersteel still out there." Maekar wanted his brother to hurry up and get on with the announcement. "That is why I have named our uncle Brynden as my hand."

Maekar deflated, Bloodraven as Hand? This must be a mistake, why would Aerys name their bastard uncle as Hand over him? "Why?" He demanded.

Aerys shifted as he always did when he didn't want to address something difficult. "Brynden knows more about the realm. He served father very well as master of whispers, and has organised the clean up of the city since the sickness came. He knows more about the kingdom than anyone else, including you."

Maekar stared at his brother, wanting to scream, wanting to yell. Instead he simply said. "Brynden is also a kinslayer and someone who is despised by almost everyone throughout the realm. He also is obsessed with Bittersteel. You cannot seriously tell me that you believe his obsession with that man is healthy, or good for the Kingdom."

"If it keeps the family and the throne safe, than I will gladly indulge in his obsession." Aerys responded. "You fought Daemon Blackfyre and Bittersteel, you know just how close they came to taking everything away from Father. Brynden knows more about them than you or I. He must have everything in his power to ensure Bittersteel cannot bring his spawn and Daemon's children here."

"And if that means the rest of the kingdom gets ignored? You might not know this, Your Majesty, but there is a world out there beyond Bittersteel and your books. There is a world out there filled with your subjects you are scared and terrified of the sickness destroying the land and their homes and families. They need leadership." Maekar replied, thinking of Aegon and wondering where his youngest son was.

Aerys did not say anything immediately, instead he picked up another book and looked through the pages. Maekar stood there battling with anger and rage. His brother was being an idiot. Bloodraven would focus on Bittersteel and everything else would be ignored. He had not held a small council position during their father's reign, but he had served as an advisor due to his blood. He wanted a position on the small council at least, if not the handship. He would not sit as an advisor anymore. Aerys broke the silence. "I have sent word to Tybolt Lannister asking him to come to King's Landing to serve as Master of Laws to replace Lord Stark."

"And what of me?" Maekar asked masking his rising fear that he would not be given a role, under a layer of calm nonchalance. "What role will I have?" Lord Penrose was still alive, the Master of Ships was dead, and been replaced by Lord Redwyne. And the citadel still hadn't declared who the new Grand Maester would be.

"You will remain as an advisor due to the blood we share." Aerys replied.

Maekar felt as if he'd been slapped. "A mere advisor? Your Majesty I am the most senior Prince of the Blood, now that our father confirmed Rhaegal as being within a more junior rank due to his condition. You would keep me in the role I had as a young man? Why? What wrong have I done you?"

Aerys eyes flared then, a rare sign of angry from his usually placid brother. "You killed Baelor. You did not have to fight for Daeron and Aerion, but you did. You did not have to go for Baelor the way you did, but you did so anyway. Your pride has gotten the better of you brother, and I do not want such a man on my small council."

Maekar felt as if he'd been struck. "Is that an order of dismissal, Your Majesty?" He asked as coldly as he could, though inside he shook, just as badly as he had felt when his grandsire had hit him when he'd been a child.

Aerys picked up his book again. "Yes. Take the girls with you. And do not return unless I command it." Maekar bowed and stormed out. Within the hour he had ordered his things packed and his girls were ready to go, Daeron was back in Summerhall. Aemon at the Citadel, Aegon somewhere, and Aerion in Lys. Maekar mounted his horse sometime later, and then left the Red Keep. He wouldn't come back again ever if he could help it.