It was once more a busy morning for Argyle, one of the novices for the Citadel. He was learning the art of Ravenry, one of the many things a full-fledged Maester must know. Many messages were coming and going, queries from Maesters across the Seven Kingdoms, about the seasons, about small things regarding medicine or texts that confused them. But today's message that Argyle carried was meant for the Arch Maesters. What it contained, the novice did not know. Any message for the Arch Maesters was not for their eyes. Not even for the eyes of those that commanded the Rookery.
The Council Chamber of the Conclave was situated at the highest tower of the Citadel but on its lowest floors. A blessing for its members, since most of the Conclave, were old wise men that would run out of breath and die before they could reach the top. He knocked on the door and announced himself before entering, as was customary. It was an odd sight that welcomed him inside the Conclave chamber. All fifteen members of the Conclave were asleep, leaning back in their chairs with their eyes closed. Curious thing, they could have just slept in their chambers if they were so sleepy.
"Arch Maester" Argyle whispered to one of the members, the one that specialized in Ravenry. "Arch Maester I have received a letter from Lord Hightower," he said, gently nudging the man. The man did not wake, even when he fell face first into the table and a crack echoed through the room.
The King was presented with his crown and he wore it with a solemn look on his face, he presented his sword next before he ascended the throne. The people of the court flooded in after the King had sat on his Throne, one of whom caught the King's attention and filled him with disappointment and frustration.
The sound of drums took all thoughts away from the heads of anyone that were too busy with them. The Council all look forward from their place closest to The Throne. Daemon Targaryen strode in with the confidence and swagger that he always possessed. But there was a change in him, a sort of maturity that had not been there before he was sent to war.
He walked between the rows of gathered people until he was stopped by the Kingsguard, a sword at his chest being the roadblock. A little unnecessary, thought Brynden. Daemon looked at Ser Harrold before pulling a hammer from his belt. "Add it to the chair" he pointed it at the King before dropping it. Ser Harrold picked it up and stood to the side, while the King studied his younger brother. "The Stepstones are yours, my King" Daemon Targaryen spoke, getting on his knees and lowering his head.
The King and his Hand shared a look before the King turned to the door. "Where's Lord Corlys?" he asked.
"He sailed to Driftmark. There were wounded men that needed to be taken home, dead to be returned to their family and consecrated into the sea, he said" the Prince answered.
"And who holds the Stepstones?"
"The tides… the crabs, and two thousand dead Triarchy corsairs, staked to the sand to warn those who might follow."
The King's brows furrowed and he descended the steps to the Throne once more, his sword unsheathed in his hand. He stopped before Daemon, uneasy stares shared between the brothers. "Rise," he told his brother. Daemon rose and Viserys gently squeezed his arm. The rogue prince stepped forward, leaning his head onto the man's shoulder and the people of the court clapped.
The outer court hosted a small celebration, for the victory in The Stepstones and in honour of the Prince that led the crown's forces. The King was recalling stories of his past, of times when they were younger and Daemon would be up to shenanigans, of how their mother favoured Daemon because of the likeness between her and the younger Targaryen. The Princess approached and the King's mood fell. Brynden watched it all from the sides, under the Weirwood tree sipping his wine. He was not alone of course.
"I hear most of the casualties came from the Velaryon fleet, fighting on water against the Triarchy. The Stormlands have pushed the ground troops well. And Prince Daemon apparently performed a one-man lure in to get all the enemies in killing range" Larys informed Brynden.
"That sounds like something Daemon would do" the Master of Whispers chuckled. "Tell me about the Princess and her rendezvous in Highgarden. She is home earlier than she was expected."
"Well" Larys pursed his lips, "she did not find anyone she took a liking to. Most of the Lords were either too old for her or too young. And there was bloodshed as well on the day she left. A Raven slew a Red Stallion."
Brynden almost snorted at that. Trust the old Blackwood and Bracken conflict to not know to stop even in the presence of royalty. "Then Ormund Hightower was also a no go for her then?"
"Ormund Hightower never came to present his case," the younger Strong said, "though if he did I'm sure the Princess would have humoured him at least. He is from an old house and not one to scoff at either. And he is a cousin to the Queen."
"I'm not so sure about that" Brynden smiled. Rhaenyra was not one to be awed by house status or wealth. Otherwise, Jason Lannister would have been the Princess' betrothed by now.
The Princess walked away from the group of four, taking a seat far from the gathering of people. The Queen followed her not long after. "Keep your eyes on Driftmark. We might get some interesting news from there" Brynden advised his 'friend' and moved to the ladies.
"Those men and boys don't fawn over me" he heard the princess say. "They only want my name and my Valyrian blood for their offspring."
"I think it's rather romantic," the Queen said.
"It does, doesn't it?" Brynden interjected before the Princess could say her piece. "Your Grace, Princess" the Council member nodded his head. "I hope the age-old conflict did not scar you too badly."
"Age-old conflict?" the Queen asked.
"Blackwood and Bracken" the Princess answered, giving the Master of Whispers a dirty side-eyed look, "A blackwood boy killed a Bracken one when the latter taunted the former too much. Honestly that was the most exciting part of the tour" she admitted, much to the paling of the Queen. "How angry is he?" she asked.
"The King went through a great deal of difficulty to arrange your tour" the Queen replied, "he is… frustrated" she admitted, making the Princess' face fall. "But I am glad you're here" the Queen added with a small smile, "I find I have few friends lately. Other than Lord Brynden of course."
"She calls me her friend and insists on using titles when she speaks of me" the man jested.
"Only because you greeted me with my honorific" the Queen quipped back, the two sharing a smile. "But I am glad to have my only other friend back to me."
"I've missed you too" the Princess smiled at her longtime friend.
"We have some distressing word from Old Town, your Grace," said the Hand of the King as the Council convened. "My brother writes to me that the Conclave of Arch Maesters has been found dead in their Council Chamber."
"All of them?" the Grand Maester asked in shock.
"Yes," the Hand lowered his head. "They were said to have all died from their hearts giving out on them. But for all of them to die together like this…"
"It is suspicious" the King agreed. "Brynden? Anything you have to say on this matter?"
"Regrettably your Grace, I have nothing. And it would seem my sources are loyal first to the Hightowers rather than me since I too am learning of this now. A conflict of interest such as this weakens my connection. I will have to look into this matter, both my connections and the deaths of the council."
"Admittedly it is strange" Daemon Targaryen spoke with new vigour. He was given a seat on the Council as an advisor to the King, one of his gifts of him proving his loyalties. The other is the annulment of his marriage to Rhea Royce. It was made official and by the grace of the High Septon. More reasons for him to be so happy. "That the Arch Maesters have death so similar to young Lady Laena. Isn't it?"
"The gods work in queer ways such as that" Brynden said. "Unless this is some sickness that we should be preparing ourselves for. It has shown its preference for young and old. And we have both of those in the capital. What say you, Grandmaester?"
"I have not heard of a sickness as this, nor has the Citadel sent word on it" the Grandmaester spoke, "I will be vigilant in this matter and report anything should they send a warning."
"Until then it would be wise to keep ourselves wary. I hope you burned the letter and washed your hands properly, Lord Hand. I would hate for it to affect you and all of us by extension" the Master of Whispers spoke.
"I have burned it, Lord Brynden. You do not need to worry for my sake" the Hand stated calmly.
The Council meeting was adjourned and they each went their separate ways. Brynden made for his chambers, stopping for a moment before changing his destination and route. He could hear the sound of a child crying as he neared his destination. There were women holding lanterns, going from room to room to light them. The sun was setting and soon darkness would be on them. He stopped at the door and knocked gently, but loud enough for the occupant to hear.
"Brynden!" the Queen exclaimed in relief at seeing her friend. Hastily she ushered him in and practically threw the child into his arms. "She has not stopped crying for so long" she complained, speaking freely with her friend. The child, young Princess Helaena almost immediately quieted in the man's arms, letting out a soft gurgle before she leaned her head against his shoulder. "She likes you more than she does me. It is the same for her father" she sighed, an amused smile on her lips.
"It's proof that she has impeccable taste in men" he jested and the Queen rolled her eyes.
"Why have you come to my chambers at this time? Is there something I can help you with?" the Queen asked, after a while of seeing her daughter relaxed in her friend's arms.
"Nothing urgent. You seemed a little out of sorts today, at the celebration. We didn't have much time to just talk so I wanted to come and check in on you."
"I appreciate you for that, Brynden" Alicent smiled. "I know it is not proper for me to say this,"
"You know you can be honest with me about what bothers you."
"Which is why I am saying this to you and no one else" the Queen huffed, before easing up again. "Rhaenyra is… spoiled. She is my friend but I'm not blind to it. Women do not get to have the choice of two suitors, let alone a whole realm's worth of them. Yet she squanders it all. There could be a good one for her but her actions would push him away."
"You want to know my honest opinion?" the man asked and the woman nodded, "I agree with you. She is spoiled because she has been the King's only daughter for so many years. She has pride as a Princess should, she values her worth. Which is why she's as willful as she is" he gently rocked the child in his arms. "The matches that she has met so far do not match her calibre. Sure enough, they are old houses, some are even rich and powerful. But the prospects are lacking. She has met men older than her father, boys that piss grass being so green. None of them came to her and presented themselves in a manner that would attract her to them. She is a woman grown, and all she has met so far are men past their prime and children who lust for her titles and blood to elevate their standing in society."
"Isn't that how it should be?" Alicent asked, her voice gentle with a hint of trepidation. "I had to marry the King because he wanted to marry me and my father wanted it as well. The King is of the same age as my father and I am serving him as a dutiful wife."
"But are you happy doing it?" the man's question made her hesitate. "Would it be Helaena here, would you not try and make sure she finds someone she connects with? And can be happy with?"
"It is how society has worked for so many years. How we have come this far."
"Maybe it should change" Brynden suggested. "Maybe traditions and Society itself should be challenged so they don't make the same mistakes to benefit rich men at the expense of others" he smiled a bit, "but then again I am just a bastard. I wouldn't know the importance of them."
"Brynden…"
"But what I do know" he carried on quickly, knowing well enough that the mention of his birth always made the Queen uncomfortable, "is that our children should not have to suffer as we did."
"She's fallen asleep" the Queen mumbled. Brynden looked down at the girl in his arms. She was leaning against him, sleeping peacefully. With the utmost care, Alicent took her daughter back and put her down in her cot. "Thank you for coming to check in on me," she said, turning to look at Brynden with a smile. Brynden smiled back and bid farewell to his friend.
But he did not return to his chambers. Instead, he used one of the hidden passages he made his way down to the cellar and followed a boy. He met a man in a hood right outside the Red Keep's walls. Brynden cleared his throat, both of them jumping on the spot they stood and turning to him.
"It is quite late Princess, should you be up right now?" he asked. Rhaenyra stumbled over her words, but Daemon stood before her protectively.
"She is the Princess, she can do as she pleases," the man said smoothly.
"No doubt she can. But what would her father make of her late-night rendezvous? Especially with her uncle? He is already frustrated with her, egging him on could spell even worse consequences for her."
"And who is going to tell him?" the Prince asked, taking a step forward, a dagger pulled out. "You?"
"If not me then the many eyes I have that are right now watching you. I will die if you attack, I am unarmed. But the King will know who did it. You will either die with me or find yourself bound to the oaths of the Watch. Why squander the freedom you have just earned, Ser Daemon?"
"Prince Daemon. I might no longer be heir, but I am very much still a Targaryen Prince" the man hissed.
"My apologies, I did not mean to offend" Brynden held both his hands up. "But my point still remains. Take her to the whore house you were planning on taking her to and you will face heavy consequences. Your brother loves you, but he loves his daughter even more."
"Enough!" the Princess got in between her uncle and her friend. "I will return to my room now. There is no need for such animosity."
"No" Brynden stopped her. "There's a show right now, in the middle of town. Go with your uncle and watch it. You will learn of some eye-opening things."
The Master of Whispers and the Prince shared a look, "nowhere else. My eyes will be on you two all through. A blunder and it's your head, my Prince."
"Of course" Daemon gave a tight smile, extending his hand to Rhaenyra. The girl took it after a moment of thought and the two walked away. Brynden lingered for a moment, dark eyes gazing at the two before they vanished into the darkness of the night. After that he made his way back to his chambers, finding two people waiting for him.
"The guards outside did not make mention of you two waiting for me here" Brynden stated calmly. The guards at his door were at the command of the King, normal soldiers and not men of the Kingsguard. I would not lose my most valuable asset to any form of assassination, he had told him when Brynden protested it. "Am I to assume you have found out about the secret passages then, Larys? Mysaria?"
"The Lady Mysaria was kind enough to show it to me," the younger Strong son said morosely, unimpressed that he did not know about the passages. Brynden chuckled at him.
"Rule one of being my right hand and my successor should anything happen to me" he took a seat at the table they were sitting at, "you must always find the secrets yourself, so nobody knows how you do what you do" he then turned to Mysaria. "Daemon told you I presume?"
"Daemon used to take me through these passages to his chambers when we were lovers," the Lysene woman said softly. "He is with the Princess right now, in the streets of the Capital watching the common folk."
"I am aware. I ran into them in the cellars" Brynden smiled. "Should they come anywhere near my establishments, you will inform me, yes?"
"Of course Lord Brynden" the woman lowered his head. After the debacle with Daemon and him going to war, Mysaria had been on her lonesome to deal with the things she would have to normally deal with, but without Daemon's presence, it was worse. That was when Brynden had found her, before the Hand or anyone else. Working under the King had not been free and the man was paid handsomely. He bought the establishment Mysaria worked in and installed her as his representative. You do not need to prove yourself to me. You have a fire in you that I like, and for that, I am willing to invest in you, he had told her when she had asked why he was giving her this responsibility. But the responsibility wasn't for free. Whatever whispers she would hear, in the beds of the brothels or the dirt of the streets, she would come to him. He did not need her to do it, as much as he didn't need Larys to feed him information. She was as dangerous as Larys and in the wrong hands, under the wrong influence, she would become a great hindrance to him. So like Larys, he kept her close, kept his eyes on her. One wrong move and he'd take her out.
"I heard the Arch Maester's conclave has died of a sudden illness" Larys spoke, his sour mood from before now replaced with one of intrigue. "Is it your work? A reaction to what you have learned about in the letter from Drfitmark."
"Why would I have a reason to act on what I have learned from our sources at Driftmark?" Brynden asked smoothly. The letter confirmed what he had suspected, that the Maester was the one who had done the poor girl in. Princess Rhaenys had been notified of it and she had fed him to her dragon. The King knew as well and he did not chastise his cousin for it. He would have done the same. "It could be the gods lashing out for the murder of an innocent."
"The gods work in mysterious ways," Mysaria said softly, though the glint in her eyes made it clear that she did not believe the words she spoke, and neither did Larys who was smiling slightly.
"The King refuses to name Prince Aegon as heir" Larys said after a moment. "Princess Rhaenyra's choosing might destabilize the balance in the realm."
"It's rare of you to talk about the balance of the Realm" Mysaria raised an eyebrow. The three had been working for a good part of a year, almost two now. They each had a good grasp of the other's nature.
"Lord Brynden has promised me that House Strong will grow into a stronger House if we work together, a house with a lasting history. We can hardly achieve it if the realm breaks in half and there's a war" he explained simply.
"Leave the King to me. I am sure I can convince him to change heirs without making him feel he's wronging his daughter" Brynden leaned forward. "But we must think about him. He is our biggest issue right now."
The other two shared a serious look before they both nodded.
"It is Lord Brynden, your Grace."
"Yes, let him in."
The doors were opened for him and the King smiled at him as a welcome. "Your Grace summoned me?" Brynden asked.
"Yes... yes, I did. I am sorry to do it so early but it is important" he sighed. "I am still unsure whether I should change my heir, name my son instead of Rhaenyra."
"Understandable. You do not want to offend your daughter and make her think you're displeased with her and she has disappointed you" Brynden said and the King nodded. "But let me put it like this, your Grace. Should you persist with Rhaenyra, upon your death she will ascend the Throne. When that happens, there will be a rebellion. House Hightower will want Aegon on the throne simply because he is Kin to them and they want absolute power over the state since they already have such control over religion and knowledge through the Sept and the Citadel. The Westerlands will support them, as would the Stormlands since the council of 101 has put you on the throne over Princess Rhaenys. They will be offended and in their offence will support Aegon. The Reach will support Aegon as well since House Hightower is powerful there."
"And for Rhaenyra the North will answer the call because they are duty-bound to follow their oath, since breaking it will incur the wrath of the gods on them. The Vale of the Arryn will support Rhaenyra for her connection to the late Queen Aemma."
"The rest of the realm will support those that give them a more than fair deal. Either way, I do not see Princess Rhaenyra winning should a war break."
"You did not need to paint such a vivid picture" the King smiled, a constipated one that showed exactly how much he disliked what he heard.
"You are a kind man, your Grace. You want to do well by the realm and your daughter. But it is not always possible like that. Which was why I advised you to betroth Aegon to Rhaenyra. But you have made yourself clear on that front. So the next best thing would be to name Rhaenyra Lady of Dragonstone and name Aegon as your Heir. Dissolve the rule that Dragonstone will be the seat to the heir of The Iron Throne. That is as close to a win on both ends for you."
"I suppose you are right" the king shut his eyes and sighed.
"Never forget what we know, your Grace. It comes above everything else for us" Brynden's words made the King sit straighter.
"You do not need to remind me of that," he said sternly then he sighed. "Rhaenyra remains unmarried as well. Another headache to deal with. I should just marry her to you and be done with it. You're a good man with more honour than half the people in the capital. And I know she likes you enough to give you a try as well."
"I am flattered, your Grace. But my station and hers are not anywhere near each other. Underneath all of this, I am still a bastard, your Grace."
"Not if I naturalize you" the King suggested.
"I am flattered, but I have someone else as a suggestion. Someone the Princess is fond of as well. Prince Daemon?"
"Daemon? As in my brother Daemon? Are you out of your mind Brynden?!"
"Think of it like this, your Grace. The Prince is a wildcard but one fiercely loyal to his blood. It was what made his marriage to Rhea Royce as sour as it was, she did not have Valyrian Blood in her. And even above blood, he is fond of her, and she is of him. Talk to Princess Rhaenyra and see if she agrees to it before you make any attempts of setting it up or discarding it."
"Laenor Velaryon is another good choice" the King pointed out.
"He is, but his taste is not like ours, your Grace. His is a different sort."
"Are you saying?"
"That he prefers boys over girls? Yes, yes I am. Lord Corlys is aware but acts blind towards it. Princess Rhaenys is aware and wants her son to be happy. With Laenor, Rhaenyra will find a friend, but she will not find the happiness and fulfilment you find in a marriage. It could also lead her to look elsewhere for it."
"Mind your tongue Brynden. I am fond of you, but I will not-"
"Hesitate to have my tongue for saying that? I do not mean to offend nor do I imply anything. I am speaking of a possibility. It is best to not consider Laenor Velaryon at all."
"Anything else?" the King sounded miffed.
"Just one more thing, your Grace. I have received… disturbing news about one of our own."