A/N: Hi guys. New chapter coming.

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Chapter 42: A Prince's Tongue

"Your Grace!" announced the herald, slamming his staff onto the stone floor of the Dragonpalace's great hall - staring at the King himself upon the Iron Throne but with hundreds of guests and servants in between. "Newly wed before the gods, Prince Aegon and Princess Alys of House Targaryen."

As he stepped aside, the newly wed couple entered the great hall to the claps and cheers of the wedding guests. Aegon sporting a doublet and trousers in royal red-black motif while Alys wore a green and gold sleeveless gown spun with intricate geometric shapes of fire and sun - a homage to the house she was now married into alongside the black cloak emblazoned with the three-headed dragon on her shoulders. Both were closely arm in arm, and both wore dazzling smiles of complete genuineness.

"You know, I still can't believe it."

Smiling fondly, Princess Rhaena didn't turn her gaze away from her brother and friend turned goodsister even as she replied to Tyanna's comment. "I know what you mean."

Tyanna, dressed quite provocatively in a much more lower cut dress than permissible anywhere but Dorne and perhaps the more risque parts of the Reach, certainly turned heads. Even Rhaena's more than once. Damn babe… He was driving her mad with lust these days. "I never expected Alys. Now you, you were obvious, but not her. Didn't think she had a secretive bone in her body."

"Firstly," Rhaena replied, finally looking at the beautiful Pentoshi bastard she called a friend - and loved if she was being truthful - I was not obvious."

"Yes you were," Tyanna quickly interrupted, smirking.

Rhaena rolled her eyes. "Anyway… Alys really is perfect for him, but I suppose I never expected Aegon to find a wife. Not that he couldn't… just that he was always my valonqar."

"Wasn't he desirous to marry you?"

"That never would've worked."

"Aye, it was another dragon you lusted for."

Reaching down and cupping the immense swell of her belly - obvious in her black dress cut specifically for pregnancies - Rhaena smiled serenely. "Aye, and I regret nothing."

Tyanna smiled as well, though hers was more sad. "My only regret is that I didn't have a cock, so I could give you children."

Little did she ever talk of their past relationship, or the obvious torch she still carried for Rhaena. Best that they not discuss it. Too many emotions not worth processing, so instead… "Please, if one of us had a cock it would be me, you my blushing maiden."

"Blushing maiden?" She was skeptical.

"Perhaps not blushing, but otherwise too." Tyanna was silent, a clear indication she knew Rhaena was right. "Thank you though, for keeping me company while I must be alone."

The sorceress' - at least according to rumor - expression softened. "You need never ask." A frown on her face. "Greatly stupid that your husband dare not show up to his own nephew's wedding. Your muna is a piece of work for this… though it could also be the seven-pointed jackasses behind that." Eyes focused on the couple as they greeted a collection of the Warrior's Sons invited to the wedding, along with the bulbous Septon Mattheus sent by the High Septon - someone had to be present even if Murmison officiated.

Being without Maegor, who had flown Balerion to Dragonstone, had greatly hampered Rhaena's enjoyment of her brother's wedding. The two of them were in their cauldron of joy following the incident at Jonquil's Pool - never to happen again as that both Jorelle and the newly christened Ser Jonquil Darke acted as her sworn swords - a mood in which was shared by her grandmother, Alysanne, Viserys, her northern kin, and her favorites. Such was where it ceased. Muna and kepa, the latter especially, tried to be joyful at their first grandbabe but such was marred in the strain of how she married. Aegon never was warm to Maegor, but Jaehaerys… his sudden hatred of her husband completely stunned even those not fond of Maegor. Once close, now Jae only spoke to her.

And worst of all was the fact that Aunt Ceryse remained stubbornly esconcend in Oldtown, refusing to leave no matter how many ravens Rhaena sent her. The only reply out of the dozen was one right after Maidenpool professing her relief at her being unharmed, but that was it. She hates us not, but still draws pain from us. It was unfair and her heart clenched for her poor aunt and sister-wife, but ultimately the worst matter was that as long as she remained there, Maegor's reputation died a little more every single day in court.

Nothing could stop that.

Deep in her thoughts, she didn't notice the first dance of the evening until a tap came to her shoulder. "Your Grace," she heard Tyanna say, Rhaena turning to find her kepa.

"Dearest daughter," he said with a loving smile. "Care for a dance?" She smiled back, extending her hand for him to take.

Tune a slow and gentle one, Rhaena found it quite soothing. A romantic melody, perfect for her valonqar and goodsister, the two of them dancing practically melded together - Aegon's arms around Alys' waist and Alys resting her head on his shoulder. Eyes closed and so much in love. She sighed, wishing for the same in that moment of her and her handsome husband.

"I am familiar with that expression." Rhaena looked up to see her father's warm lavender gaze upon her. "Your mother shares such with you whenever she's saddened. Upset that it is your father you are dancing with?"

Rhaena bit her lip, knowing there was no escape. "No… I always enjoy dancing with you." Not a lie - she and Aenys were always close. Sighing, she asked the unsaid question. "Why won't you let Maegor here?"

It was the King's turn to sigh, guiding his daughter in a gentle glide along the dance floor. "You know why."

"Because you're still angry at him?"

"Daughter… he's my brother and I love him, but you must admit he is a difficult person to deal with." They were silent, merely dancing and deep in thought even as the song changed to a similar melody. "But I am not angry with him, not truly with my grandson soon to be born." Aenys loved children and it was obvious in his excitement over the babe to be born. Exactly the source of his great anger at the incident at Jonquil's Pool. Only Murmison and the prospect of open war between House Royce and the Faith managed to push him back into his role as the King. "He just couldn't be here."

"Did muna tell you that or Murmison?"

Aenys could never lie to her. "Murmison." Rhaena was slightly shocked at that. I could've sworn it was muna. "While the… tragedy has calmed tensions, what happened with you and your uncle…" 'Your uncle,' not 'my husband.' She was not naive about his choice of words. "...still are seen with hostility by those of the pious. Time will heal the wound, I'm sure, but until then I must keep Maegor from court. Had it not been you he wed… he'd have been exiled. That's what they wished for me and him."

Dragonrider that he was, Rhaena knew her kepa - for all his wonderful qualities - was no dragon. An amiable and clever, but weak man. It made her heart hurt. "That plan does not work." She looked down at her swell. "Everyone can see my babe and know who the kepa is."

He sighed. "Aye, they can." The song ended and they stopped, clapping. "Do not fet, sweetling. Egg and Jae will be visiting Oldtown soon on their first royal progress without myself or your mother. I am sure tensions will calm down by then." Aenys leaned down and kissed her forehead, ever lovingly.

Rhaena smiled at her kepa walking to where Aegon and Alys were, hiding the resignation in her gaze. Oh kepa, you were always more optimistic than I.

"You should be happy, your Grace." Watching an errant starling dip its beak into the gurgling pool of the fountain before fluttering back into the air, thirst sated, Rogar Baratheon imagined how quickly his tamed falcon back in Storm's End could dive and rip into the creature. Five seconds. Served to save his mind from going mad at the tedious conversation.

But such was the way of romancing a woman… Even a Queen.

Even a married Queen. "And why should I be happy, Ser Rogar?" Alyssa Velaryon remarked, herself scowling. She looked purely radiant even in her anger, drawing Rogar in… though he knew well enough to keep his hands to himself and his eyes sparing. Married women didn't dissuade him. Those married to the King did, however ineffectual and weak said King was. "Tell me one thing I should be happy about?"

He leaned back a bit, craning his neck so he could force her gaze upon him. "A perfect wedding between your son and new gooddaughter, one impeccable in the eyes of both court and the Faith, for one. And the rather dashing company you find yourself in for another."

She snorted at him, but Rogar could make out the ghost of a smirk on her lips. "You are quite bold, Ser Rogar. Bold and full of yourself."

"And why shouldn't I be? Has her Grace been scanning me for flaws?" He mimed a blow. "I feel quite wounded, unable to go on."

Older than him by several years, that statement nevertheless broke her facade - leading to a chorus of giggles. "Gods, do you think yourself seriously."

He grinned at her. "Quite in certain matters. With my axe in hand, as serious as the Fourteen Flames. In riding, in matters of state, none more serious than I. But what is the rest of life without a little amusement?"

"I suppose you are right."

"I usually am." She rolled her eyes at that, but remained silent. Struggling between merrily enjoying herself with him and withdrawing into her melancholy. Rogar saw his chance. "Something truly the matter, your Grace?" She didn't look at him, biting her lip - he decided to be bold. "An issue with his Grace and yourself?"

Alyssa bristled. "And what would you know of such matters?" she snapped.

But Rogar was ready for this. "Not much, I'm afraid. My young bride and I were married but a year before fever took her from me." He shrugged his shoulders. "Most days I don't even remember what she looks like, to be honest."

It had the desired effect. Alyssa was too proud to show her embarrassment and contrition, but it was enough for him. "My apologies," she simply stated. There you are. "No, it isn't of his Grace… perhaps it is… ugh, if only he stood up more to that brother of his…" She bit her lip.

"Ah, Prince Maegor. Your… goodbrother and goodson at the same time." Many in the Stormlands didn't understand or grasp the Targaryen urge to marry family. Rogar wasn't one of them. If my niece looked like Rhaena or my sister like Visenya when she was younger, I'd marry them and never leave the bedchamber. And had he been a woman or a sword-swallower, the same would extend to the likes of Prince Maegor or King Aegon. "The Princess seems happy."

"She thinks she's happy." Alyssa clenched her fists, but instead sadness washed over her. "She doesn't know him."

"And you do?" He was curious.

"Um… I know him better than she does," was the hasty response. Alyssa laughed uncomfortably. "It is quite easy to bear one's soul with you, Ser Rogar."

He smiled. "I am merely seeking to serve." Oh, she was practically eating out of the palm of his hand. If Rogar wished to have her, all he needed to do was lean in and kiss the Queen and she'd melt in his arms. A Baratheon bastard would be in her belly before the hour ended… But this wasn't some Stormlands Lady. She was Queen Alyssa Velaryon, and thus he needed to wait.

Besides, waiting was half the thrill.

His moments with Queen Alyssa notwithstanding, the weeks in the Red Keep were frightfully boring. Not since the chaos of the failed royal progress to Maidenpool did anything of interest happen, and that of Prince Aegon, Princess Alys, and Prince Jaehaerys to Oldtown didn't come close to sating his desire for action or drama. Aside from raking eyes over the occasional big-breasted servant to take his mind off the torture of how beautiful the Queen was, Rogar spoke to no one while heading for his quarters.

Only to see his two brothers waiting for him - the two brothers he brought with him to King's Landing on the pleading of his father and grandmother. "What is it, Garon?" Rogar asked, rolling his eyes. "Another girl needing some coin and a trip to Gulltown or somethin' before grandfather finds out you put a bastard in her belly?"

While the quiet, leal Ser Garon Baratheon cleared his throat, before he could speak he was interrupted by the boisterous Ser Borys - second eldest of the five children of Davos Baratheon. "I fuckin' wish, then at least there'd have been some fun involved." He shook his head. "Papa and grandpapa want all of us back in Storm's End… though at the very least you and me."

Rogar snorted. "Thinks you can't be trusted without me to reign you in, eh?" Borys had… a bit of a reputation. Thank the gods Gargon Qoherys isn't present. While Borys had at least a modicum of good sense, the two of them were thick as thieves in the worst way possible. Neither understood what subtlety meant.

Borys glared. "You're one to fuckin' talk, considerin' the girl you want in your bed… or should I say Que…"

He couldn't finish his sentence as Rogar slugged him in the stomach, knocking the wind out of him. "Watch your words carefully, brother, or else the rocks at the base of Aegon's High Hill can never be called a kinslayer." Being the elder brother had its advantages… even with Borys a quarter-head taller than he, the cunt was afraid of him. Eyes flickered to Garon. "Have anything to say?"

Garon shook his head. "Not truly, but just that I wouldn't if I were you."

"Good advice for if I were you, but thank the Seven I am not."

"But her? The risk isn't worth it."

"Noted… now get to the rookery and send a raven for Storm's End. Borys and I will be on our mounts by morning's light." Nodding, Garon gave each of them a flickering look before departing. Leaving his elder brothers alone. Stroking his beard, Rogar began to pace. "Any chance our father or grandfather would've found out?"

Rubbing his stomach and still a bit green around the gills, Borys shook his head. "Father, nah. He's too much of an idiot." Where else do you get it from? Rogar didn't say it out loud, what was the point? "Grandfather though… he has spies everywhere - more like grandmother does but he's far craftier than he looks. I wouldn't doubt if he did know about your… courtship. However smart it is in the long term."

Aye, it was smart. "The long term becomes the present when you make your own luck." He smirked slightly. "Remember when we were young… that game we played when that old barn was infested with rats?"

Borys' lips curled upward in almost a leer. "Like it was the last morning, brother." He had been the one with the torch at the time.

Curse to the kinslayer.

Curse to the weak. It was the latter that Rogar had taken to heart long ago.

"It's alright to be nervous, goodbrother."

Adjusting the collar of his doublet - the fancy wool anything but soft, scratching at any skin uncovered by his undertunic - Jaehaerys only smiled at Alys… Princess Alys, as her new title stated. "Oh, I am not nervous. Just the opposite in fact." Escorted by two knights of the Kingsguard, the two walked just behind Egg as they made their way through the corridors of the Hightower towards the great hall. "My first true royal progress and I am excited."

"You've been on them before, Jae." Apparently Aegon was listening to them.

Jae rolled his eyes. "Going with kepa doesn't count. I was essentially an afterthought then." Now though, while Egg was the senior royal here, as a mere Prince he wouldn't dominate or overshadow Jaehaerys. While he wished Aly was with him, Jae was going to enjoy the attention as befitting his status.

"Right, you'll be as much the center of attention as I or my Peach." Alys giggled at the pet name and when he kissed her neck, blushing. Jae just rolled his eyes. "You've gotten by without much attention thanks to father and mother and Rhaena, but now… stick to me or Alys, and if you can't find them go to Aunt Ceryse."

That advice surprised him. "Think she'd give any of us the time of day after what uncle did to her?" It wasn't just her uncle victimized. Vermithor, just a hatchling… had he been grown, Maegor would've disappeared down his gullet for what he did. The white-hot anger hadn't changed, and seeing Rhaena pregnant and blissfully unaware of the predator her husband was drove Jaehaerys close to madness.

He couldn't tell her, he couldn't tell Aly, he definitely couldn't tell his kepa… My uncle… the greatest man I knew. All disappeared behind his mask, eager to enjoy himself and assert his ability to be a man far different. Proud, loyal - a true warrior for his family against those opposing it and the sins within.

"Their Graces - Prince Aegon of House Targaryen, Princess-Consort Alys of House Harroway, and Prince Jaehaerys of House Targaryen." At the proclamation of the Kingsguard, all in the great hall bowed except for one figure. Princess Ceryse, herself in a glittering green gown to contrast with the black and red of the three guests. A symbolic gesture to which Jaehaerys didn't blame her for.

Aegon approached her first. "Aunt Ceryse." They kissed each other's cheeks. "It was such a shame that you left King's Landing. Court is not the same without you."

Ceryse smiled at them. "Forgive me for missing your wedding… I truly wished to have been there, but…"

"No need to apologize, aunt," Jae chimed in, hugging her. "I understand."

Once greetings shifted to Lord Hightower and one of the Archseptons - Mattheus he introduced himself as, built like a whale - in lieu of the unavailable High Septon, Jaehaerys found himself with his aunt Ceryse. Being introduced to other dignitaries of the Reach, Lords and Ladies and knights that Jae promptly forgot about. "You don't need to worry about me, Jae," Ceryse told him.

"I'm not worrying about you, aunt, but I do empathize with your plight." He was at her height, and she was quite a tall woman. "What happened, you didn't deserve it."

She pursed her lips. "I… I don't want you to hate your uncle."

His eyes darkened. "I do though, for what he did."

"It's not all his fault… I can't be there with him but I don't fully blame him." Her hand ghosted gently over her belly for a moment. Jae didn't respond, unsure of how to respond. "Ah, Septon Barth."

A slight figure with short-cropped hair and dressed in expensive but modestly ordained vestments appeared, kissing Ceryse's hand. "Your Grace, how lovely to see you again. Unfortunately I have been busy but His High Holiness insisted that I attend."

While he didn't show it, Jaehaerys instantly disliked the man. Something about him… there was something he was hiding. As if… there was a hidden contempt. Unfortunately, few others saw it. "Pleased to meet you, your Eminence," Jae said politely.

"Ah, Prince Jaehaerys. A new dragonrider, before me. You are growing into a warrior… I can see."

"Thank you."

"I have heard a lot from your aunt." Ceryse had by then excused herself, leaving the two of them to speak alone. "Your love of reading especially."

Jae nodded. "I was hoping to visit the Citadel, to browse their tomes. I am… curious."

"Ah, of course. The Father made men curious, some say to test our faith." His smile didn't change, eyes twinkling. "Some fall short in those tests, which is quite unfortunate." Barth shrugged. "There are some who cannot be free of their sins, especially those that are not in the service of higher good but personal pleasure. And then there are those that are seduced by false superstitions that I can only pray for."

Jae's brow rose. "I am of the Seven, though the gods only know I could be more devout with attending the sept in the Dragonpalace… and yet I've known many that sought spiritual discovery elsewhere." My sister… I think she's fully with the old gods at this point. Many blamed Lady Arya Reed, but Jae knew it started long before that.

"Unfortunate… If you wish for absolution, then I would recommend you steer such loved ones back to the Seven." Barth chuckled. "Your dear sister is young, but still able to be saved. Children are innocent and easily tricked."

Eyes widening slightly, Jae's suddenly narrowed. "And you would know about how children can be tricked?"

"Only how to save them from their sinful ways." Both sets of voices were still calm and polite, even if inside Jae was fuming. "If you would like, I could introduce you to one of the Starry Sept that can reintroduce you to the Faith… and your sisters as well."

Rhaena too? This prick was going too far, Rhaena was innocent. "Why not yourself?"

"Me?" Barth smiled politely. "I am afraid I am too busy, serving the High Septon."

Wait… Barth… Jae remembered the High Septon having an aide… someone who had been the son of a… A smile curled onto his face. "Oh, it is for the best, given your origins." Barth blinked. "Your father, a blacksmith, no? Quite improper for royalty to cavort with the likes of smallfolk."

The mask hardened. "Your Grace, I would believe royalty should have a wide range of…"

"Perhaps, but that makes me curious. If your father beat out swords and shod horses, I'm sure you learned too." A shrug. "Likely why the High Septon picked you."

Brow raised, Barth peered down at him. "And why is that?"

Jaehaerys smirked, ready to put this upstart in his place. "A knight needs his sword, a horse needs shoes, and there are plenty of both in the service to the Starry Sept." The smirk didn't fall, even as those around him clammed up at his words. "For the life of me, I hope you can teach the maids of the Dragonpalace your secrets in cleaning up all the soot from the forges. How spotless your vestments are."

The latter sentence was overkill, petty on Jae's part but an effective punctuation. Many stared at the young Prince in surprise. Most of all Barth, the placid, curious facade pierced and showing complete shock. Shock… and a flash of insecurity in his eyes.

Discovering that, Jae's smirk widened. Well well, you are ashamed of your origins. "There's one thing I heard about you, Septon." He noticed someone approach from behind him but didn't care. "You… you came to King's Landing last time on a donkey, correct?"

"Valonqar." He looked behind him to see Aegon, quite cross. "That's enough…"

But Jaehaerys wasn't finished. "Strange, since you told me you work for the High Septon, but a donkey is quite fitting for a smith. I mean… I would mount donkeys if I must, but I never thought donkeys as higher than dragons."

If the great hall was quiet before… Now it felt like an empty cavern. Even the quietest squeak… "I think you have had enough wine." His voice was halting - with impertinence.

Glancing at his cup, it was mostly empty. Offering him a way out. While this was fun, best not to antagonize his elder brother… not to mention he realized how many were acutely staring at him, wilting his bravado a bit. "Silly me, then. I'm not much of a drinker," he murmured.

"Forgive him," said Egg, trying to be casual about it. Making it off as a jape. "He's still young and wine can make him loose-lipped."

The insecurity was gone from Barth's face, mask returning if not for the tiniest speck of… fury. "Right," he replied, voice… simmering. "I have heard from the Citadel that it is best to reserve wine and other spirits for those above the age of five and ten."

"Something I shall keep in mind for young Alysanne, thank you, Septon." Aegon nodded. "I should escort my brother to bed. Everyone, carry on. I shall return." Those in the hall bowed as he departed, Jaehaerys in tow, giving Alys a loving kiss before they turned the corner and approached the stairs to the residential wing. Egg's anger soon bubbled past the service. "Are you addled, Jae? Truly mother didn't teach you to be such a right cunt?"

Jaehaerys snorted. "That prick had it coming," he replied, crossing his arms at the foot of the staircase - unreasonably ornate in the style of the Hightower. "You could smell his self-righteousness a mile away."

"He is the aide to the High Septon. You are to show respect…"

"Please," he scoffed. "That prick acts humble and studious, but he's a snake like all the others." Clothed in righteousness, just a bunch of hostile cunts trying to manipulate the throne or deflower one's mothers… "He got what he deserved, common smith."

Teeth clenching, Aegon grabbed Jae by the collar of his doublet and began hauling him up the stairs. "Father and mother will deal with you when we get to King's Landing… which will be soon now after that stunt you pulled. For now, stay in your chambers! You've fell ill with food poisoning from hereon out. We clear?"

Shaking his head, Jaehaerys wanted to spit at his brother but demured - that wouldn't have helped. "Fine." Wrenching free of his grip, Jae stomped towards his guest chambers. Just wanting to fall into bed and read his favorite books. Prick's probably too simple to even know what I meant.

Door locked behind him, Barth had kept his composure as long as there was someone watching over him. His guards, his guests… the guests and servants of both the Starry Sept and the Hightower. None were allowed to see his true emotions. Not after that slip up in front of the little Prince Jaehaerys, to which was quite embarrassing.

No one had ever been that impertinent to him before. No one, everyone either fearful of Hugor or later fearful of himself to comment on Barth's… modest origins. Not until the smug little Targaryen Prince. Just as smart, just as clever, at least if one asked him. Barth, however, knew that no matter how clever the lad… Had things been different, I could've been his septon. His advisor. Quite ironic, thinking about it.

Had he been a mere septon, that is.

But eventualities were eventualities… and now that he was alone, Barth allowed his true emotions to spew forth.

"AHHHHHHH!"

Flagons smashed against the wall, all sorts of pottery. Books tossed all over the place, paperwork swiped into mass clouds of cream and tan sheafs. He screamed again, shoving the massive bookshelf to the floor where it cracked in three places.

"How… that fucking cunt!" How dare he? How dare he?!

But Barth was no animal. He was no dumb brute or else he'd have been in the Poor Fellows like Wat Hewer. Pacing his rage, calming his fury, he reached down for one of the undamaged sheets of parchment and an inkpot-quill that miraculously survived his assault upon his desk. If the puissant little Prince was going to insult him, then Barth would repay him back in kind.

Words scribbled upon the paper, he opened his door to find his stone-faced guard. A loyal man, one with a devotion to the Faith bordering beyond zealotry and into near madness. He wouldn't talk under any circumstances. "Take this to the rookery. Tell the maester there it's to be sent to the man in the center."

"Man in the center, your Eminence?"

"The exact words. Do it." The guard bowed and dashed off. A tiny smile curled on Barth's face. Serves you right, you little shit.

A/N: Jaehaerys really stepped in it this time.

Till next time!

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