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Chapter 3: Aegon
Sleep evades him. He shuffles up carefully, trying not to disturb Margaery.
Aegon runs a hand across his face while glancing at his wife. Even if his father had been the one to make the overtures, he chose Margaery. He had no regrets and she never gave him cause to have any. She always strove to be a good wife to him once she found her footing on Dragonstone and they found their footing with one another as husband and wife, not just guest and hostess or man and sister's friend.
Since they had been here, there had been so much to do what with the funeral and the press of guests which she managed. She always did manage whatever came their way, no matter where they had been.
As weary as he feels, he smiles at how fitfully she sleeps. But, on this night, he covets her ability to rest.
He always welcomed her counsel. He could use some of it now.
He reaches for her but pulls back before his hand lands on her nearest shoulder.
He swallows and settles his hand against his side again. He never wanted to be a poor husband. He could not do this to her. In her condition, she should rest, even if he cannot. No, he thinks, he cannot bring her into this. He does not wish to add to his wife's burdens.
This burden was for him and him alone. And what a burden it was!
He settles back uncomfortably. He needs to think. He cannot do nothing.
He lets out a slow breath.
Oh, Jaeherys!
Jaeherys was his brother and a prince of the realm. It should be so simple. If he reveals his suspicions, it will cease to be his burden. That would be enough. Yet, he knows it would not be so simple. It never can be. With what he suspects, where does the unburdening lead? Nowhere good, he knows, however, he cannot do nothing.
He can have suspicions all he likes; it is knowledge he lacks. The only thing he knew is that Jaeherys drowned in unfamiliar waters.
Tell or do not tell of his suspicions. That is his choice. That is his burden. He was going to be a king one day. Kings are required to make difficult decisions. Does he deserve to be king if he did nothing?
A voice inside him tells him, 'How much does he want to know?'
What does he do now? What does he even know?
He knows Jaeherys is dead. He knows Jaeherys drowned. Young lords who visit strange cities without their overbearing mothers for the first time can get into all sorts of mischief through recently discovered daring. Drownings happen. Galladon Tarth drowned, after all. If only he can end it there.
He cannot because this was no mere drowning.
The way Baelor looked…
No, this was no mere drowning.
He must make a choice. It does not mean he wants to make it! A proper prince, a proper king would uphold the truth. Even if he came from a line of kings, can he truly look to them?
Of the kings he derives his name from, there is the Conqueror killed many to forge this kingdom. The second was a kinslayer by his own deeds. The third was a broken boy who became a broken man. The fourth was an example no one should follow. The fifth allowed his weakness for his blood-kin to draw the realm into chaos.
Should he follow a Daeron? The first was a violent fool whose own hubris got himself killed. The second Daeron did everything right and was proper in all things and still drew ire. A Viserys, perhaps? One tried avoiding conflict which led the realm to ruin and the other may have also been a kinslayer who died unnaturally.
Should he look to either Jaeherys? The Conciliator may be a great king who slowly killed his wife with his callous disregard. The second Jaeherys, his father's grandsire, thought nothing of reaping the benefit of breaking his oaths but forced his children's marriage and ruined both.
His own grandsire might have killed him if it suited his purposes while the first Aerys never seemed to want to act like he was the king.
Baelor the Blessed, then? That one killed himself over guilt for his own thoughts. Is that an example to follow or an example to avoid?
Should he look to his own father?
He asks the question though he already knows the answer. No. He loved his father as a son ought to and before this, had been dutiful, but, he never trusted him, not fully. He learned that lesson early.
He asks, "Why can't I stay with Mother like Rhaenys does?"
His father frowns slightly. "You are to be king one day. You are needed closer to King's Landing."
"Then, why can we not stay together?"
His father sighs heavily and there was a flush scaling up his father's cheek. "Your mother and I cannot stay together because we are no longer married."
He insists, "You used to be." He wasn't stupid. He listened to the Maester at Dragonstone and read his histories. Grandmother and Viserys also told him so.
His father can only agree but there is a weariness on his face. "Yes, now I am married to Lyanna and we have Jaeherys together."
"Can't you unmarry her and send them away like you did Mother and Rhaenys?"
Ser Arthur gasps sharply while his father looks away.
His father never answered.
If his father could be trusted there would have never been a Jaeherys or a Baelor who may have orchestrated his death. But, Jaeherys had existed and Baelor may have had him killed.
He remembers the first time he had been allowed to visit the Red Keep, sitting in in his father's rooms.
His father smiles at him. "Aegon, would you like berry tarts with your evening meal? Mother wrote you enjoy them."
He smiles thinking of the treat, but, Jaeherys squeaks and the queen reports, "I promised Jaeherys we would have his favorite tarts today."
His father frowns at his wife. "This is Aegon's-"
The queen frowns, but, he finds himself looking at Jaeherys who avoids his eyes now. His own neck feels hot as the scrutiny of everyone else in the room is focused on him. What are they expecting?
His grandmother remains silent, yet, knew what her silent disapproval looked like. But, he knew his graces and princes are gracious and he wants them, mostly his father, to not dislike him. "It is alright father. Perhaps tomorrow?"
He remembers his father's guilty look turn to one of relief. Jaeherys had smiled weakly at him. Still, he had smiled.
And now that boy is dead.
So, what does he do now? What can he do? Can he do nothing? What sort of man would that make him? What sort of king would he be if he did nothing?
He thinks, 'Damn it all, Baelor!'
Things had been going well, had they not? What possessed him to even-
He closes his eyes. He already knows the answer. The betrothal!
Daeron had done right by his father and his other siblings and how was he paid in kind? If he knew how that fared, Baelor absolutely had. Baelor had been born before the War of the Ninepenny Kings occurred, his kinsmen fought in it and had been fighting in the Blackfyre rebellions that came before.
Baelor had fought in the war his grandsire started.
But, it was only after the betrothal that Jaeherys is dead…After months, if not years, of delay the Starks finally agreed to the marriage between Jaeherys and Lady Sansa. Betrothals mean marriage and marriage means children and children mean rivals for Baelor's kin through marriage. Otto Hightower in reverse. Is that what Baelor is to become?
Oh Baelor! Though he felt no love for Jaeherys as a brother ought, he never wanted him dead. And for Baelor to…Surely Baelor knew him. He never wanted anyone to do it, especially on his behalf. He never would have.
What can he do now? What choice does he have?
If he does confront Baelor. Either Baelor will deny it or confirm it. Then, what?
Confront him: Baelor denies it, and names him the liar.
Confront Baelor and he would have to explain this to his poor mother. How was he going to explain that Baelor may have killed his half-brother? Even if she believed him, he would be the one responsible for ruining her married life, that would be the least of it and there was not a least of it. Rhaenys would be no better. He glances at his sleeping wife. Perhaps, Margaery would turn from will ruin his own standing the eyes of all he loves; not to mention, Leto's, and Duncan's.
If he confronts Baelor that gives Baelor time to sweep away all the remaining threads. If he has not done so already. The Baelor he thought he knew was a careful man. Were there even threads to clean up?
Confront him: Baelor admits it, then what? Tell his father? He swallows because his father would relish the opportunity to kill Baelor. He is no fool or some empty-headed courtier. If he goes to his father, Baelor's life is forfeit the moment his father enacts the violence befitting a father and a king. Baelor hated his father much longer than Rhaegar knew of it and returned it. Oh, they can pretend, but, he knew even if none of them spoke upon it.
He reveals this and what happens next? How far can it go? Far, he knows, because he is not a fool. It will not end with just Baelor. He reveals Baelor's role then what will happen to Mother and Rhaenys? Will they be drawn into things? Are they a part of it? Did they know?
He wants to think not. Baelor and Mother are united in most things, as it should be, yet, in this? He is not so naïve in thinking that had it been his father who Baelor had designs on she might not have many reservations but Jaeherys? No, his mother was not capable of such a thing. Even though he was never allowed to live with her as a son should have, he knew that much. But, will his father see it that way? Of course, not! Will anyone else?
Rhaenys never pretended she ever loved Jaeherys, and she never needed to. He knew it hurt their father, but, is his father not going to allow Rhaenys her feelings? After all, she had some memory of before Jaeherys was born and grew up at their mother's knee in Dorne and at Baelor's hand when the Reach had been on his family's side. But, to conspire to kill him? No. Rhaenys was not one to keep a secret from Edmure and his good-brother did not seem the type. But, that does not mean that they will be unscathed.
And what of Leto or Duncan? Is he going to rob them of their father?
He exhales.
Once more he looks to Margaery. She adores her uncle; far more than her own father. Aemon adores Baelor as well. And with the new child…
Is he to betray Baelor? How will the rest of his family see him when he betrays Baelor for his? For the father that none of them trust? If he submits Baelor to his father's mercy, what will become of any of them?
He runs a hand across his tired face.
No matter if his brother deserves justice, this will be calamity!
And it's all well and good to admit to Baelor's part, but, it will not end there. It cannot. His father and his father's wife will not let it. After all, Baelor was not the one to carry out the deed.
The man or men who carried out the task surely would follow to death if Baelor had not already cared to see it through. But, how did Baelor know who to go to? While Baelor was a man of means, there are only so many possibilities available for him.
Lady Lynesse would be the obvious choice…if she were guilty of conspiring with Baelor. What if she is guilty? But, what if she is not and still accused? Does his father make an enemy of her Trebor? Or perhaps, they will not touch Lady Lynesse because she is too far to touch. What about the rest of the Hightowers? Baelor is well liked in the Reach.
What was the alternative? How far was he going to go? Even if he could find himself punishing Baelor for even putting events in motion, and how far can he go? What exactly is Baelor guilty of? Is he going to question his cousins? Their mothers? Their everchanging Essosi associates?
But, that is not what he cares about.
He is no novice in these matters. His father will not just leave it to Baelor.
His mother will be blamed and her kin. Dornish as they are; Dornish as he is…
Perhaps, Sarella will bear the burden of his disclosure. His cousin could, of course, go see her mother, but, Oldtown has a harbor where the Feathered Kiss could dock. If he knows that, so does his father. Why had she gone east? His other cousins, of course, could also see their mothers, but, why only now?
Is he really going to accuse his cousins? And of what exactly? Going east? Which one does he accuse? One of them? All of them?
Who else would take umbrage? What would his uncles say?
He reveals this and what do the Starks say? Oh, he was no fool in thinking they welcomed that betrothal between his brother and Lady Sansa, but, this? They will not take this silently no matter what their thoughts on him were.
He can try to shield anyone in the face of his father's wrath, but, what good will that do when he himself will be implicated? And he will. He is not so stupid. Who else would be seen to benefit from Jaeherys' death? Who else would have Baelor killed Jaeherys for? Would his father believe that he had nothing to do with it? Would anyone else?
He longs to scream and rage!
Damn Baelor to the Seven Hells!
"I think I am going to go on a short ride," he tells his mother and his wife over their meals. Baelor says nothing. And it suits him for now. He needs Baelor to speak; but, not here, not now.
But, the time he has dwindles.
House of mourning nor not, most of the guests have come and gone and some were trickling away. Uncle Viserys was leaving in a week. He and his family would be leaving for Dragonstone last. This would be his only opportunity with Baelor as Mother, Baelor and Duncan were to leave in three days.
There will be no other chance for him. Perhaps, he will lose what little nerve he has left.
"A short one alone," he adds, to placate the concerned looks he gets. He does not mean to run, but, his mind has not settled. He needs the truth from Baelor without an audience. Baelor owes him that much!
The concern of both ladies remains. He understands, after all, he's not one for riding for no reason, let alone now.
Mother asks, "No Kingsguard?"
He shakes his head. By virtue of his position and living situation he is used to keeping his own company for the most part. "I need some time alone, I think."
They are still not convinced. Even better. If he had not suspected Baelor's hand in Jaeherys death, he felt guilty for using his mother and wife like this. But, he is not a fool, nor is he the only one who used his family. He will not be the only guilty one.
Still, his fist balls together. Though his nails are short, they bite into his palm due to the ferocity of his anger. With a smile he cannot truly feel, he says, "Baelor can come with me, if that assures you."
Baelor agrees easily. Good. Even better because the offer works as intended and he can see his mother's and Margaery's worry melt away.
Despite himself. His own worries slide away momentarily when Baelor agrees. Baelor will give him answers, whatever they are. Baelor owes him an answer. But, not now, not here. If they are no longer of a mind on things, this they can agree on.
Good. He does not want Baelor to fight him on this. There was some guilt in Baelor's eyes, yet, not so much. Baelor protected his mother, sister, and his wife and he has been doing it longer than he has. And now here he was using them against Baelor. But, more than guilt, there was pride in Baelor's eyes.
Pride and relief. He wonders at the pride, of course. Pride in him that he figured it out? Or pride that Baelor knows he will be taken to task about it? That he does not know.
The relief is easier. After all, whatever will happen, there will be no one to witness it. That is not as reassuring as he would have hoped.
They ride far out into the forest. A cowardly part of him wants to keep riding and never look back. He does not want to suspect what he does. He does not want to have the conversation he needs to have. He does not want to know the truth. Then, he would have to make a choice among ugly choices.
He must. He needs to know. He needs to hear the words for Baelor's lips, no matter what they are.
Oh Jaeherys…His half-brother. His poor, dead half-brother. Poor because he is dead or poor because the one who can give him justice hesitates in delivering it?
He must tear his family apart if he wants to give his brother justice. Is he willing to tear his family or the realm apart to do it? Does he want to? But, he needs to hear what Baelor has to say.
This has nothing to do with logic and the unraveling of consequences. Oh, he can drive himself sick with reasons not to reveal what he knows but that does not change that his reluctance has nothing to do with the fear that the path of justice would take.
He loves Baelor. He loves his father too and his own father showed no hesitation in tearing his life asunder and here he still is. Should Baelor be any different?
And so, deep in the forests, he stops his horse and swings down and plants his feet firmly upon the earth trying to prepare for something he feels woefully unprepared for.
He's shaking, he realizes as he secures his mount to a tree. By the time he's done, he wearily watches Baelor drop from his own horse and do the same.
For a too moment it was just like they were in Oldtown; when he could have thought better of Baelor.
Baelor looks at him, waiting, as if to ask, 'You had something to ask me?'
If that is the way Baelor this to go, he will oblige him: "You had Jaeherys killed."
It was not a question. He can say he had suspicions, but he is not good at lying to himself.
Without so much as a blink, Baelor admits, "Yes."
Without a thought, albeit with a shaking hand, his right fist slams squarely onto Baelor's nose.
Even then, the crunch of bone beneath his fist causes him to go still even as Baelor stumbles back and falls. He barely registers the throbbing in his hand. But, the hand has gotten still.
That thought is not satisfying nor is the memory of what just occurred. Baelor falling to the ground wasn't either. Seeing blood streaming from Baelor's nose as he unsteadily rises did not make him feel any better either. He's not a violent man. He is not a meek one either, but, this is not an exercise of the sword arts and it is not a battle. He hopes it does not become one.
He does not know what he hopes.
His mind buzzes wonders if Baelor will retaliate in kind; but, Baelor doesn't.
Baelor softly asks, "Are you going to hit me again?"
He bites out, "I should do a lot more. He was a prince of the realm and HE. WAS. MY. BROTHER."
"Your half-brother," Baelor corrects, gently, wiping his nose with a kerchief. Baelor grimaces. "Who neither you nor your sister had much love for."
"So what?" he demands. Unbidden, hysterical laughter bubbles out of him. "You did not have to kill him. He did not need to die for you to get me to admit it. I would have said so freely if you only told me that is what you wanted."
Baelor winces, mindful of his new injury, even as he shakes his head. "You know that's not what I want. I could never want that."
He'd liked Baelor since the day they me.
And he knew they bonded because they both loved his mother. At first it felt disloyal to his lady grandmother, but, his grandmother was Viserys' and Daenerys' mother, not his. There never was any need to pretend otherwise and in Sunspear and, later, Oldtown, they hadn't.
How could the same man-
He frowns. No, Baelor might have been a good man or a great one perhaps, but, he was a man. And most men are the kindest to their own kin and their own people and are not so kind to their enemies. One does not grow up in the shadow of the courts of Aerys and Rhaegar Targaryen without knowing of Tywin Lannister. While he lived that man was not kind to even the children of his enemies when he had lived, or his own children for that matter. Baelor was a better man than that. Or at least he should have been.
Still, Jaeherys had not been an enemy, to him or to Baelor. Still, Jaeherys had been his brother, though not in the truest sense. Baelor knew this.
He asks, "Then, what did you want? My praise? My gratitude? You cannot have that
Baelor takes a step towards him and he takes one back. He ignores the hurt look Baelor gives him. "I did what I had to."
"I could understand if it was my father. I am not so blind. You hate him for what he did to Mother and to Rhaenys. I get it. But, it's not him you killed. What enemy of yours was Jaeherys? What ill had he done you? Give me the answer. I deserve to know."
Baelor gives him a dark look. "That betrothal-"
He finishes, "Was not his idea and no reason for him to die." He hadn't even known if Jaeherys wanted it. And now there will be plenty he will never learn about Jaeherys.
He wonders why Jaeherys came to see him.
When the door opens, he prompts, "Jaeherys?"
Jaeherys' grey eyes glittered with euphoria. "They said 'Yes'".
His lips pull into a soft smile at Jaeherys' enthusiasm. He heard Jaeherys had begged at every opportunity to be allowed to go see the world since he rarely got to leave the capitol except to come visit him on Dragonstone. Jaeherys had told him once, looking sheepish, that he had been used by Jaeherys to state his case to their father.
"When do you leave?"
Jaeherys grins so hard. "In a month."
"Do you know when you will be back?"
"Four months after that." He's practically bouncing.
"Good. It would be good for you." He means it. He always enjoyed his travels.
Then Jaeherys grows into the somber one he is more familiar with. "Then, we are going to Winterfell when I get back."
Right. Father had said the negotiations were nearing completion. "Looking forward to getting married? Or are you nervous? I know I was. It will work out. It did for me."
Jaeherys starts staring at a point over his shoulder, a frown forming at his lips. "You said no to her."
Because of whom she was, though he cannot tell Jaeherys that. There are some things better left unacknowledged and he has no need to start fighting with Jaeherys now when they are careful with each other as it is. "Not because of anything she did. She's a lovely girl. She'll make you a good wife."
Of that he was sure. Lady Sansa was perfectly nice, but, he hadn't wanted to marry her. Margaery was the one his mother and sister knew and spoke highly of. He knew he could be happy with Margaery. And he was with her and the son she gave him.
Jaeherys swallows. "You chose the Tyrell girl instead."
He holds in a sigh even as he gently reminds Jaeherys: "The Tyrells have been our allies for centuries and we owed Redwyne a marriage. Margaery is both."
He'd been prepared to start talking about how they married Rhaenys to Edmure Tully because they'd owed them a marriage too, but he was grateful Jaeherys started to ask him about the food in Lys even though the food was one of the last things men their age would care about in Lys.
Blinking back the memory of the last time he saw Jaeherys, he almost strikes Baelor again hearing the words: "You know your histories well, Aegon."
Baelor said the same words to him on one of his trips to Oldtown. Then, those words made him happy. Not today. Perhaps nothing Baelor will ever say again might.
The trouble was that he did know his histories and so he knew that Daemon or Aegor had not been enemies to Daeron until after Aegon the Unworthy breathed his last.
He growls. "That did not give you the right to do as you did and now you've gone and made me complicit in his murder."
Baelor gives him a look of abject dejection. "You think I would be so careless? You would not be implicated."
He argues, "That you did it is careless, and most of all, you are wrong in thinking that is only me that I am worried about."
Baelor insists, "I took precautions. I will not be." Not enough. There was never near enough precautions Baelor could have taken in the murder of a prince. But, the gall of him!
He retorts, "Better men, stronger men have been toppled by less, smarter men too. And this was no mere game. You had no right. You should be better than this. What makes you think that it would be you to suffer if this got out?"
"Then, who?" How could Baelor be so blind?
For once he lets his bitterness ooze out of him. "It is not you they would blame even if you did the deed yourself. Oh, you'd die for it, no question. The trouble is, you would not be the only one. No one would think this is the idea of poor, pious Baelor Hightower, but, the blame would lie with others. Like my mother."
And that, is the part he cannot forgive. Baelor's eyes widen, almost comically. "Boy-"
Baelor does not get to claim the higher ground now! "Does Mother even know what may fall on her head? What you have done?"
Baelor looks as though he wanted to strike him! As if he had the right! "You dare say that about your mother? That she would be capable-"
He bares his teeth. "I never thought you would be capable of murder, either."
Baelor's eyes blaze with fury as he grasps for his cloaks. "For my family, I would. But, your mother, Boy? How dare you?"
He shoves down the warmth he feels and he shoves Baelor back. He cannot afford to extend affection now. "I dare because you did not, my lord".
Before Baelor gets word in He snarls, "You do not get to look hurt, not now. Gods bedamned, Baelor. Do you know the position you could have put my mother or Rhaenys in?"
They are nose to nose now and he has Baelor's tunic clutched in his fists.
Baelor hisses, "Your mother has nothing to do with it. Neither did Rhaenys."
He shakes his head, still furious. "You think anyone will believe it? How well did that work for Queen Myriah? Since you know the histories than I do, tell me, go on tell me! Or did I just imagine a rebellion broke out in her lifetime?"
Baelor raises his chin. "All the more reason."
"Who she was proved enough fuel and here you went. My mother and Rhaenys deserved better from you."
"I deserved better" he does not even say. He knows that if it came between him and Baelor's sons, or him and Rhaenys, Baelor would have chosen them. He would have understood, after all, Leto and Duncan were his own and Rhaenys was the daughter he never had. Baelor loves them. Him, he was just a convenient addition. He was always secondary to his own father, why would Baelor be any different? That does not even bother him.
He needs to impress upon Baelor how largely he mis-stepped when it came to everyone else.
He shakes his head. "You may be clever Baelor, but, you are not a god. Did you think that nothing that goes to Essos can be brought back? His body did, no matter the state of it."
Baelor glares at him. "It would not be tied to anyone. I made sure of that. Trust me."
Baelor takes a deep breath and wraps his hands against his. Once that might have been a comforting gesture. It cannot be one anymore.
But, he makes no effort to pull away. Still, he finds himself sneering. "I did once. And here we are."
There is hurt swimming in Baelor's eyes, but, he does not allow himself to be moved. Baelor betrayed him. He trusted Baelor when he could not trust his own sire. Now, he cannot trust him either. What evil had he done to deserve this?
He continues, "I am afraid, Baelor. Let us be clear on that. But, what I fear most is that I am not the only one who could suffer for this and you are too blind to see it. You went too far. I am afraid of those that would seek to bring low the ones I love because you didn't think beyond your petty revenges against my father-"
He almost does strike Baelor again at the look of utter outrage. Baelor hisses, "You think I waste my time thinking about your father?"
He shoves Baelor back but only just. He already hit Baelor once. He doesn't want to do it again. He never wanted to hit him the first time. And now…One injury he can explain. He already carries enough of a burden without having to explain how his mother's husband came to be black and blue if he let his temper rage. Neither of them can afford it.
"We can play these games of what if he becomes powerful through his betrothals all you like but you know that match was practically a throw away. I hear both an Umber and a Karstark each already tipping their hands for their respective grandsons. No, I think you relish the opportunity to shove his face in how happy you made his 'cast offs' and enjoy knowing that there is no other son for my father to turn to. I am not here because I judge your likes and dislikes. I am judging your actions. What I will not accept is that you are deluding yourself into believing yourself untouchable or that even if you are others around you are equally so." He snarls. "You get to go back and sit in your ivory and golden halls, but, it will not be you who suffers the worst of the consequences of your actions. I need you to understand that."
He can't help but smile though he can feel that it is twisted. Part of him relishes the way Baelor flinches back. "My father's son dies, and no one would think anything of the discarded Dornish woman his mother supplanted or my sister who never loved him? Did you consider that even one barest whisper can cause them ruin? No, you did not. And you failed to consider that if this ever got out, either of them would be blamed while you would just be a gallant man goaded by his wife or a dutiful father taken in by a vengeful girl married to a traitor's son. You are fool if you think differently. You are a fool to think anyone else would think differently."
Baelor turns gray at that! As he should! But, he's not done. "And somehow you escape, or they escape… what about my other kin, hmm? After all my mother's kin have all the reason want 'my only rival' gone. And if I know Sarella would never have to leave Oldtown to see her mother when her mother can easily visit her, others can too. What about the rest of my cousins – a handful just happened to leave for Essos. Awfully convenient for you, isn't it? So, Baelor Hightower, once again, are you going to stand there and tell me that my father or anyone else wouldn't think of something that I can?"
And there it was, the realization he was hoping for. There was no joy and no satisfaction in him having to spell this out for Baelor and there is not one in knowing Baelor understands the gravity of their situation. He thinks with some emotion that he stomps down on, about how things are now tattered between them. Baelor ought to recognize that.
Baelor should have known nothing good came of plots like this, let alone murder. Oh, he is not such fool in thinking Baelor had not taken some measure of joy in this. Not the act of killing, of course, but, having a hand in something with far reaching consequences and defeating a rival in an unambiguous way. But, Baelor, wise in the service of his household and his lands, should have known there are better ways of vengeance than murder.
And this may lead to both, yet.
He lets out a blood curdling laugh. "Did you think that if my father learned of this, he would think they had nothing to do with it? Or me? Because he's proven that he's not above thinking the worst of anyone? That he would sit idly by-"
Baelor starts, "I-I didn't thi-"
As pained as Baelor looks, and perhaps he was in some way, he cannot allow himself to be tempered by it. This was Baelor's doing and though Jaeherys paid the ultimate price, he is the one who will have to live with it. Baelor should have never put him in this position. He will not let the blame be laid at his feet even if the consequences are. Harshly, he finishes, "No, you didn't think. And I only have two options: ruin the lives of those we both hold dear or pretend I do not know you killed an innocent."
In that moment Baelor looked so old. "I swear it, Aegon. I never meant to put you in this position."
"You did it anyway." He shakes his head and straightens. "But, no matter. After all, you were not intending for that to happen. I know this. I do not blame you for not seeing how great a burden you heaped upon me is. How could you? Your father never gave you a reason to mistrust him and you never grew up knowing that it would fall to you to clean up the messes left behind by other's callous disregard. That is something I know you avoid with Leto and Duncan and even Rhaenys. Me, though? You had no right to force me to remember something I already grew up knowing. After all, I live every day knowing what having such a burden is like because I have Rhaegar Targaryen for a father."
That causes Baelor's knees to buckle.
Baelor considered himself his sire's better. In many ways, he'd believed that as well. That is no longer true for any of them. Baelor was too sure of himself and that caused him to be reckless. Baelor cannot continue this way and he cannot allow it; not when there is so much at stake.
"So, what happens now?" Baelor asks, "What do you need from me?"
He almost laughs at that. How does he even answer that? Jaeherys cannot be brought back to life. He cannot plead ignorance of how the dead came to be that way or that whatever trust he had in Baelor hasn't thoroughly broken.
He takes a breath. "Whatever games you think you need to play with my father, they end now. You have your house, your lands, your people. Keep to that. Never expect me to forgive you for this. Still, now that you have gone and does this, I will protect you from whatever many come to the best of my abilities because you have my mother, my sister and your sons, the only brothers left. But, I know you are used to leading. Because it led us here; from now on, I just need you to follow. Do you understand me?"
He will not reward Baelor for not asking to where or to what end and he doesn't when he climbs back onto horse.
Not another word is spoken until they get back to the Keep when his mother lets out a sharp cry at seeing the state of Baelor's nose.
She exclaims, "What happened?" as she all but drags Baelor towards a wash basin.
Good question…just not one where the true answer would be welcome. He forces a smile and quickly tells his mother, "Baelor stumbled."
The words fly out of his mouth easier than they should have. Just as well. He cannot let not Baelor dictate things now. Because his mother is still concerned, he adds, "He was too overconfident in his movements."
That he is technically truthful does not make him feel any better. To protect her husband, he is lying to his mother because that is the only way to protect them both.
He supposes it is only right that he learns to become a skillful liar if his mother's house is to remain peaceful. He wonders how long he can even guarantee that.
His mother, blessedly free of the thoughts that plague him, tuts about her husband no longer being of an age to act so wildly. He makes noises of agreement for reasons he wonders if he will ever be forced to reveal. Baelor does not correct either of them, except to tell his mother not to worry so much.
To his mother he says, "I agree with that" while pretending that Baelor had not flinched. He adds, "His injury will heal." Even if their relationship never will. "I will watch him more carefully from now on especially now that I know he does not step carefully."
"Good luck to you," she retorts. "He's a stubborn one."
"You have my solemn oath that I will not be so lax in the future", he promises his mother.
Baelor nods his head. Understanding, obedience, acceptance?
Ultimately, he decides it does not matter what that is supposed to mean so long as Baelor thinks before he acts. Because neither can afford anything else. Not anymore.
"Why would you think Mother is happy about Jaeherys dying?"
The Gods truly made mockeries of them all.
If not, then why had he walked in on his father and his wife discussing how happy Mother had looked and why. Naturally, the queen settled on one possible conclusion at the exclusion of any other. His father, of course, tried to placate his wife.
Or perhaps not. His father is quite capable of his own fanciful ideas. The realm had seen that.
At his voice, his father went white while the queen purpled. "Aegon, I didn't mean-"
Feeling the weight of Viserys' hand around his wrist, he turns away from his father. Viserys warns, "Calm yourself, Nephew."
Uncle Viserys looks disapproving, but, the way his gaze flits between him and his father, makes him believe he is not completely alone. For now, anyway. If only Viserys had truly known…
His nostrils flare. "Calm myself, Uncle? Why? Because there are so many ways 'That Dornish snake is happy my baby is dead' can be interpreted? Or is it natural that our people are accused of callousness simply because we dare breathe?"
Perhaps he is being unfair to his uncle but had not his time with Baelor proved as much?
His uncle gives him a tempered look that he ignores. Instead, he watches his father's face go from white to red. Was it because his father and his wife were caught discussing his mother's 'cruelty' or because his father remembered that Dorne is in all their blood, but, his son's particularly!
He wishes he could be outraged. He is too disappointed in himself! How could he have been such a fool?
He takes a breath because his uncle is right. He cannot afford to lose his temper now.
His fury is tempered pity for he knows how they lost Jaeherys and more because he knows who caused it. It does not mean he cannot be hurt or furious on his mother's behalf. Baelor might have been the one to do it, but, now, it was up to him to protect her, wasn't it?
His mother was innocent even if Baelor was not. Women, long since contentedly and comfortably married, rarely jeopardize their grown son's settled prospects by killing others for decade old hurts. Even if his mother had any murderous intent, she would have saved it for his father and perhaps the queen, not his half-brother. Baelor might think that she would not have entertained taking such a part would ensure she would never be put in jeopardy. Having overheard his father and his father's wife, once again he is reminded that he cannot forgive Baelor for was being wrong in thinking the possibility would never exist.
Viserys, too, chimes in, "I am certain they had not meant to accuse Elia, Arianne's aunt, of such a thing."
At that, his father turns to his uncle, his face truly haunted. His father's wife shrinks back as if she desires to disappear into the wall. Not so brave now, he thinks. Perhaps they forgot that his dear cousin was also his aunt by marriage or that Arianne was just as Dornish as his mother?
Men can say whatever they want about the so-called rivalry the Dornish and the Reach, but, 'Uncle Mathis' never stooped so low. Ever diligent in looking after his sister's children's affairs, Lord Rowan never so much as had a bad word to say about Mother. But, here his mother is blamed and judged? For what? Looking happy?
Her being Dornish would be blamed. Oh, how he longs to tell Baelor about how mistaken his approach had been. But, how could he expect it from Baelor who never had to live with their own culture treated as a stigma for little reason.
How funny it is. Somehow it was his mother and her heritage are found worthy of blame for a feeling. Still, Uncle is right. He must remain calm. He had not spent his entire life learning to control himself for a lack of it to fail him now. He has much to lose. Too much if he is not careful.
He was right in letting his anger flare towards Baelor who had been in the wrong. But, this? He cannot lose control in front of his father. The alternative means nothing good for him or for those he loves, especially since that number has shrunk.
He must have taken too long to answer because Uncle Viserys begs him again, "Aegon, please?"
He takes another steadying breath. This was his fault. He should have known his father's willingness to acquiesce to his wife's musings.
Hadn't he learned from the tedious entreaties during those countless discussions of his marriage? The queen, in her never-ending quest to heal the rift between herself and her kin, thought to buy it with him as the bait. He would have never allowed it and his father saw reason eventually, but, that was hard won. In truth, as he had said to Jaeherys, he had no enmity for Lady Sansa, who was kind and of good repute, but, he would never have never required his mother to call a Stark a good-daughter.
The queen, perhaps, never forgave him that, but, she should have known such a gambit would not have worked in her favor. Even betrothing Jaeherys to Lady Sansa had yielded little in the way of reconciliation!
He shoves that thought away. He is not a child anymore. He cannot cast her as the only villain when his father was the one responsible.
He will not play the part of his grandsire any more than he will cast his father's wife as Serala of Myr. And even if the queen were such a person, his father is more than capable of doing his own thinking and doing his own acting.
As a child on Dragonstone, he wondered what purpose he served to his father besides as a tangible example of how unlike Grandfather Aerys his royal father was. Had his father wanted him or was it because his father had known support for himself would dwindle if he had not? Getting rid of a wife who could no longer give him children was one thing, a true born son who shared his looks was quite another. Why else would his father choose to keep him and not Rhaenys? So, he is fully aware, that this is his father's doing and he knows his history.
He remembers back to one of his earliest visits back to the Red Keep and how it was then that his father mentioned that they would serve only for the queen to state "I already promised Jaeherys-"
A small thing in the grand scheme of things, but, taken collectively…
And now, even without Jaeherys, this?
This is what he had come here for? Even if he hadn't feared for his mother and sister, had he truly been willing to tear asunder his world? For this?
He always felt badly for not being a loyal son to his father, but, oh he tried. He had been so careful. So diligent. He never tried to argue. He tried to let his father have his way if he could help it. And still, it is not enough?
Baelor had been right in his own way. He could not trust his father. But, he grew up knowing that. To protect those he loves, the innocent ones left, it was up to him. He cannot leave it to Baelor.
He steps further into the room, closing the door, pulling his uncle with him. He gets himself a cup of wine to steady his nerves. Once more he relives the crunch of his fist against flesh and bone. He felt badly about deceiving his mother. It still was not satisfying. Nothing about it could be. After all, Baelor who should receive more than that! But, he cannot take a hand to his sire who was also his king. Baelor had done him wrong, but, his sire's thoughts have done nothing except remind him how unsteady their bonds truly are.
When he thinks he can speak again, he settles in an unused chair before his father's desk, like he has done countless times since he was old enough to sit with his father.
Yet, those days were different. The days he could think well of his father had been few. Now, does he even want to?
"My King" he starts and pretends he did not see his father wince. "My mother's happiness has long since been severed from yours, and your unhappiness for that matter."
His father breathes heavily. "I know-"
He makes a poor son to his father. And now that he knows what his father would think about his mother…
If his mother was a Dornish snake, what did that make him? It makes him his mother's son when being his father's son hadn't worked well, has it?
"Do you?" He interrupts just in time to see his father wince again. "Then, perhaps, you know like any mother, her happiness is tied to her children's. In this case, mine."
All three look to him in abject confusion. "My mother is to be a grandmother again."
Despite his father's mystified yet happy look being quickly taken over by one of guilt, his uncle laughs, delighted. "Really? And you did not tell us?"
With a brief smile for his uncle, it slips the moment he turns back to his father. "Margaery and I thought it would have been in poor taste to make the announcement."
His father looks away as the queen lets out a nearly silent cry. He adds, "We had planned to wait for a moon or so."
Even if he held hatred in his heart for Jaeherys, he would have never crowed about his wife being child while they were here to mourn him. Knowing what he knows now, he could have given Jaeherys that much.
Before him, father sits down heavily, his shoulders slumped; his wife blanched.
Had he not overheard his father and the queen, what would he have said? But, he had. Like with Baelor, there is no going back now.
His father asks, "You told Elia and Baelor?"
How many times he must disappoint his father today?
He holds in the "Obviously." He shrugs. "Margaery expelled some food in front of them."
His father tries to smile at him, seemingly mollified. It is a weak thing, he thinks. "I am sorry, it's just-."
His father seems always to be sorry.
He swallows the thought. He nearly heard the thought in Baelor's voice and that is not a voice he longs to speak with just now. After all, he knows too well why his father is not at his best. Still…"I can understand this is a difficult time, but, Father, really? You know Mother would never-"
And she hasn't. Baelor may lie to him or kill him yet. All the same, he trusts that.
His father says, resigned, "Yes, I know I know she would never-"
Somehow that never stops his father from believing something like this, does it? Keeping his tone level and setting his eyes completely on his father, he says, "I trust this is the end of this."
"I am sorry, Aegon." His father looks apologetic. Then again, his father was always apologetic.
For now, it looks like his father needs him to accept it.
Can he give his father that?
He always had and well, this time he cannot give his father what he deserved. "And yet, isn't she a Dornish snake?"
If his mother is that, then what is he who holds the secret of his brother's death?
He saw his father and his wife flinch. "We had not meant…It-She looked happy."
He wishes his father did not have the ability to hurt him. He should have outgrown that by now. "So, it is my mother's happiness you begrudge, not our culture?" He gives his father a coy look though he feels disgust. "Yours too, Father, although somewhat more distantly. Is that supposed to comfort me?"
Then again, as with Baelor, would his father know what it was to be a comfort to him?
No.
His father's face twists. He waits for his father to say something more. Because, surely, there should be a denial at least, to give the illusion that this was not a farce.
Nothing more comes except a slight tremor in his father's hands.
He told himself not to be disappointed. It was his fault for holding out any sort of hope, not his father for thinking exactly what he will about his mother. If Baelor can ignore what his mother's culture would mean when they spent years together, how could he expect anything from his father who took another wife while his mother was still married to him!
He shakes his head and pushes himself to rise. Coming here was a mistake.
He cannot stay here. He cannot bear to be in the same room as his father. "If you will excuse me, I think it is nearly time for the meeting with the council, is it not, Father? I must apologize, I must have cut into your time to prepare for it. I think we are done here."
He says it though they all know what he and Viserys interrupted was not that.
"The meeting?" His father's voice shook.
Had his father forgotten about it? Perhaps or perhaps hearing certain things from him has left his father rudderless.
Perhaps it was grief. Quite a thing…grief. It affects so many in different ways. And Rhaegar Targaryen has much to grieve. A daughter he gave away a long time ago, a dead son, and one living son who he believes he lost face in front of.
If only his father knew the truth of it…
"I-" His father starts and stops, looking unsure.
He says, "Perhaps it is best if I do take them."
He can give his father this much. Being the king's Crown Prince, he is used to. There was comfort in that which he has not found in being his father's son. Now, perhaps, he never will find any.
The thought does not fill him with as much sadness as it should.
His father nods, agreeing because there is little choice. Either do his duty himself or leave it to his son; his only son now. The one whose mother he just insulted. "Take them, will you. I am not-"
He nods swiftly and turns towards Viserys because he lost any desire to remain here. "Will you dine in my apartments the night before you go, Uncle?"
Viserys replies, "Yes, of course, Nephew," in a tone he knew, from their years together on Dragonstone, is false in how casual it was.
He turns around with a short bow leaving his father with his wife and his grief.
It was not until he was in the chambers of the small council that he remembered why he had even gone to see his father.
Poor Jaeherys. He had not lied to Baelor; he hadn't loved Jaeherys. He liked him well enough, but, they weren't friends.
Now having left his father, he wonders if he ever been a good brother to Jaeherys.
Rhaenys never felt the urge to claim Jaeherys as anything but their "half-brother" and acted accordingly. But, she had flashes of that time he did not.
When he had been younger, he had felt guilty for not doing more. Then, there never really had been an opportunity. And they were not even really brothers because when the opportunity presented itself neither one of them knew how to go about it.
They had been polite to one another when they were near, of course. They had similar lessons though he had a fair bit more from what he remembered of the brief conversations in the rare times he visited King's Landing or in the rarer times his father and Jaeherys visited Dragonstone.
Mostly, they talked about swordplay and books they read but there was nothing he shared with Jaeherys that he hadn't told Viserys or Leto or Duncan or even Quentyn or Edmure for that matter.
After he grew and learned the ways of the world, he had not tried to pick fights him or give into bitterness that Jaeherys got to live with their father and his mother while he was sent to his grandmother because his father would not let him go to his mother. Knowing what he knows now, about how his brother had died, he should have been good to him, to his memory at least.
He concludes he was not. How could he claim that when it was all too easy to let his brother fall to the wayside because he couldn't be a good son to his father today?
What sort of man did that make him?
The kind with too many to think of because he cannot leave it to Baelor…the kind that stopped leaving such a thing to his own sire.
Yet, even if he could have been a better brother to Jaeherys, to be good to his brother, he'd have to tear apart his mother's life and his sister's. Could he do that to them?
Did he even want to?
What does it say about him that he felt relief when the Hand comes through the door so that he didn't have to think about his brother?
He kneels before the altar of the Father and prays for guidance as he never has before.
He looks up towards the bearded figure.
His lessons said the Father protects his children and that the Father's domain was justice. In this, who better to turn to besides the Father?
Where else can he go? Who else can he turn to?
What father does he side with? Which one does he betray?
He stares up at the bearded figure.
Fathers…
Which father does he choose?
Father…
Perhaps had he had any belief, kneeling at this alter and praying might have worked.
If he had been less conscious of where he was, he would have laughed out loud. Except he is conscious of his surroundings; he always was. He knows how to be careful. And he was careful about the people he is around, the ones he trusts, the ones he loves.
But the one thing he does not know about is truly having a father.
His sire had been at war until he was nearly a year and barely kept him for a few months. He knew his mother's fear drove his father to relent in giving him and he knew of his father's protest. Ultimately, he had ended growing at Grandmother Rhaella's knee while his father ultimately visited Dragonstone not quite once a year, usually around his name day.
He understood, truly, he did, that he had to share his father with the realm, but, on the rare occasion his father made it to Dragonstone, his father had a wife and another son waiting in King's Landing if they, had not, in fact, accompanied his father. On the rarer occasions he was called to the Red Keep, though it was to be his one day, he felt like visitor until he was old enough to engage his father in matters of governance.
They shared duty, of course. They both had a love of books, though he, like uncle Viserys, preferred tales of adventures to portents. They both talked of the artistry of weapons and warcraft, but, in terms of the practicality and lessons that his father rarely had the opportunity to show him himself. The Master-at-Arms and whichever Kingsguard knew more about the weapons he favored than his sire had.
As for Sunspear and at the Water Gardens, there was no father for him. The only reason he could visit his mother, with his faraway father's reluctant blessings, was because his grandmother insisted. Still, he went because it was his right as a son of a daughter of Dorne and Grandmother Rhaella was not going to visit Sunspear and take her son while leaving her grandson behind. There were uncles, of course, indulgent while being fierce in their own ways and ways that his own sire rarely was. There was even Cousin Manfrey, but, still, as with King's Landing, he had been a visitor in his mother's lands.
A few years later his mother and sister left to live with Baelor, he had been allowed to go to the wedding. After all, Ser Gerold was a Hightower and the Hightowers had been allies, and the Hightowers had sway at the Citadel. Grandmother publicly voiced every reason except the obvious one.
For all his father's shortcomings, he had not refused Grandmother when she pressed.
He sighs softly, remembering how rarely she had pressed. He will forever be grateful for taking him on, but, he learned early on the limits to which she would extend herself with him. He did not blame her, of course, after all, he had heard what had been done to her, by her own parents and Grandfather Aerys.
He knew full well why she had not pressed more. For a woman bound in duty towards family and the realm nothing good could have been gained from annoying her son who was also her king. Grandmother Rhaella had been a good woman and she tried to fill the void left behind by the fracture of his parent's marriage, but, what was a grandson when there were sons and a daughter to consider? And she had more than one grandson, didn't she?
And Baelor…Before his mother's wedding, he was finally allowed to visit Oldtown; to see his mother and sister for more than a week. He swallows remembering that first trip.
The room he was given was done up in his favorite colors, during the wedding feast each course featured one of his favorites. But, those were things that were learned mostly through formal letters he sent and things passed along by people who still had some semblance of loyalty from Mother's time on Dragonstone.
The first night his lady mother settled into rooms to read to him, Baelor had watched from the doorway with that gentle, indulgent smile that he had come to see was the same one Baelor directed at his own sons.
Baelor took him along to the Citadel, no one else went with them. He remembers being so honored that Baelor was willing to spend hours with him pointing out various tomes, letting him touch ancient scrolls, and introducing him to the Archmaester. Still, he knew that must have taken Leto, Duncan, and Rhaenys countless times. He did not begrudge them that, but, once the realization came, it could not be erased.
His mother had to give him back every time and he had been sent with a Kingsguard to ensure it. Rhaenys, Leto, and Duncan had been willing to share their jokes that he never knew the origin of.
And yes, Lord Leyton hadn't yelled at him when he and Leto raced up and the tower steps and Lady Rhea snuck him sweets while Willas Tyrell, Baelor's squire, let him tag along when he was out in the training yard. He was happy, of course, to be included, but, that did not change that they would have done that had he been just the son of any other guest.
And though they masked it well, one would have to be blind not to see the pity for the boy whose mother could not take him and the ones whose father had another family.
Then, he savored all that Oldtown had to offer and though he left the city with a volume about Baelor Breakspear Baelor pushed towards him with wink, he knew full well he was a guest, if an honored one, because Baelor married his mother.
He'd been so pleased that he could finally have memories of his mother and sister that were not just dim flashes. Yet, they were also tainted in some way.
So, no he does not know what it is to have a father because he never was a son to either man. He knew that as surely has he knew that to have a too short memory did no prince well. Was his father not a prime example of that?
Perhaps, that was why he found it easier to be the King's Crown Prince. But, was not the duty of a Crown Prince to report treasonous acts or the hints of them? But, such as it is, what about his family? Can he bear the consequences if he speaks? Can he bear the weight of his silence? His family will not withstand this.
Which path does he choose? Which "Father" does he pick?
He has two he can pick from. Is that not worse somehow? That he cannot make the choice is a mark against him. He makes for a poor son.
He sighs though he keeps his face neutral. He knows the High Septon is watching.
With one more glance up, he decides: enough.
He will not get an answer. These were his Gods, and his sire's and mother's husband's, though he knew neither man was devout at all; but, he will have no answer here.
With one final glance at the Father, he rises, meeting the High Septon's gaze. "Please remember me in your thoughts, Your Holiness, and pray that the Gods give me strength to carry my burdens."
The old man smiles and insists that will be done and he leaves the Sept as burdened as when he came.
Going to the Sept for this had been a waste of time, he decides as he makes his way down the grand stairs. He should have known he was never going to get an answer from the Father no matter how hard he prays.
He never had a father to speak of. What succor can he get from a statue of one?
A soft voice breaks his reverie. "You look too morose for someone taking his son out for an adventure."
He reaches out for Margaery's hand for a kiss. He grins at his son who climbed into his lap. "Is that what you are calling it?"
He never had a father. It was well past time he acted like he ever had. That opportunity was lost years ago. He had just been to blind to see it. He will have to accept that like he must that he cannot be a good son to his sire and Baelor was never his father even if he was his mother's husband.
What he can do is still be a good son to his mother, a good brother to Rhaenys, a good husband to Baelor's niece, and a good father to Aemon and the ones that will follow.
"Papa? You haven't told me where we are going."
He runs a hand through Aemon's soft hair, in a gesture familiar to both. A lump settles in his throat thinking that if he held out both hands, one for his father and the other for Baelor, he could count on his fingers the times either man had done the same to him and have fingers left over.
He forces a smile on his face and addresses his son. "You know that your Uncle Edmure is going back to his home, yes?"
Aemon dutifully replies, "Yes, Father."
"I need your help."
Aemon is thunderstruck. "My help?" His son beams at him.
He shares a smile with his wife. "You and I are going to get gifts for your aunt and Edmyn, your cousin. And another one."
At Aemon's pout of confusion, he adds, "Your aunt is with child."
Aemon asks, "Like mama?" Aemon's face brightens. Though he and Margaery had impressed upon Aemon the importance of secrecy before leaving Dragonstone, he had been enthusiastic about being a big brother.
He shares a look with a beaming Margaery. "Yes, just like your mama."
Aemon gives him a cheerful whoop when he learns they are going to the markets themselves rather than have merchants bringing their wares to them.
A smile tugs at his lips the way Aemon pulls at him, eager to go now!
Much to Aegon's chagrin, it was not for a few hours that they, foregoing their usual finery for simple cloths and nondescript cloaks, traipse out the Red Keep with Ser Jaime, the only one of the Kingsguard he'd allowed himself to bring.
While the knight bemoaned that he'd have to dress similarly and, at his urging, buy gifts himself for his own family, Aemon had thoroughly enjoyed getting to see the markets of King's Landing for himself and he loved it.
And if the young lion cared to notice there was no gift for his father among the pile that even included gifts for his aunt and her husband, the Lion knight had not said anything. There was no gift for Baelor, either; not that he expected Lannister to recognize it.
Viserys said nothing when Aemon was telling him about 'their adventure' and about how he helped pick out the necklace Margaery was wearing and the bracelets that went to "Grandmama".
But, Viserys had noticed the lack of a gift for his father. And so, while Margaery and Aemon went to bed, as they finished the last of the wine, Viserys asks, "Still mad at him?"
He asks a question of his own. "Did you ever stop being mad at yours?"
Viserys huffs over his cup. "I suppose you got me there, Nephew."
"Then, what do I do?" He asks because he is curious and because he's desperate to know how to act now. He cannot go back towards ignorance now. Can he forgive either of them?
Viserys shakes his head. "If you cannot forgive him, go about your life."
"Just like that?"
Viserys runs a hand across his face. Then, gives him a weary look. "I suppose it is different for you, Nephew. Rhaegar never set a person on fire or ravaged your mother-" They exchange uncomforted stares before Viserys swallows heavily and finishes, "Or his wife. Much better than your grandsire though that was not worth much to me. I was of an age to see my brother lighting the first of his own fires."
Growing up on Dragonstone, before they left Viserys at Sunspear, he and Viserys had spoken about the time before war broke out and after, though far from Grandmother's hearing. Coming from Viserys, this is not new. That does not help him come to any decision about what to do now. "That isn't very helpful."
Viserys laughs. "Most of my youth-" His uncle snickers at his bland look. Viserys might be older but he was not old. Viserys smirks and continues, "I overheard many expressing many things about how I might be like my father or brother or worse. Seven Hells, I swear I almost soiled myself the first time Oberyn welcomed us to the Water Gardens, spear in hand."
Knowing how well the men got on eventually, he still felt a stab of pity for the memory of his then young uncle. That first time he visited Sunspear and the Water Gardens, he'd been greeted warmly at Sunspear and had been too young to notice if his uncle and his grandmother were welcomed in the same way.
Still, he feels the need to defend one uncle to the other. "He wouldn't have done anything."
Viserys laughs low in his throat. "At ten and three I was glad no one was trying to save Arianne from a monster by poisoning my food." Viserys smirks, "But, there is something about people thinking the worst of you."
They both let out a snicker. He replies, "What? That you didn't have a difficult standard to surpass?"
Viserys chuckles. "That helped."
Bemused, he asks, "So what do I do?"
He is too late to protect Jaeherys now. Who does he protect? His father or Baelor. Ignore a murder or watch his world burn. What does he do?
Viserys shrugged as he rose and patted him on the shoulder. "You have a wife and child…well children now, I suppose. And a kingdom soon, too. That is enough to be drowning in. Figure out what is most important to you. You will make yourself crazy trying to please everyone or to save everyone from everything. We already had too much of that in this family."
When he arrives at the Throne Room, he gazes up at the empty seat wondering if it will reject him for his secrets. That moments end quickly, perhaps too quickly, he thinks, as he takes the seat with no incident.
"Father, why I do not live with you?"
His father and Ser Arthur trade uneasy looks. "It was decided a long time ago, to protect you, that you would stay with your grandmother. Do you not like staying with your grandmother?"
His cheeks flush from guilt. He liked his grandmother but… It just was not fair.
Recognizing how troubled he was, his father beckons him. "Son, come here."
He shuffles over wondering if he upset his father by this. He had not wanted to.
"Rhaenys got to live with Mother and Jaeherys gets to live with you. Why is it just me?"
His father blinks and shares another look with Arthur who, then, leaves the room.
His father sighs heavily. "To be a king like I am, and you will be one day, is a great privilege, but it is a burden. One of those burdens is that we must make certain sacrifices. For the many, sometimes we must sacrifice comfort of the few. It is a hard thing and I wish I did not have to ask it of you. Yet, that is the burden we carry. You will be stronger for it. I know you will."
He doubts his father had this in mind.
He settles back and gestures for the doors to open. Men and women file in. It is the last two that catch his eyes.
They are as different as night and day, his silver-haired sire and his mother's brown-haired husband. Both usually capture the attention of any room they walk through and there they are swathed in shadow, pressed against the back of the hall. Both were here to see him.
Two men, both men capable of love and capable of casual cruelty. Baelor orchestrated a murder without thinking of the consequences. Yet, it was rooted in love of a sort, even though he does not want to admit it. And he knew his father loved him though it was not a love that he needed or desired. However, if his father had not been capable of cruelty, then he would have grown up at his father's knee not his grandmother's. And if his father could not see the innocent for what they are, then no one he loves is safe.
Today both men were watching him, waiting to see what he would do.
It is funny, he thinks to himself. Both men are nothing alike, except in one thing: they poured their hopes for the future into him and now they have no option. And he will give them none.
In their own ways they both led him here.
As he gestures for his first supplicant of the day, he sends a silent apology to Jaeherys before putting him out of his mind entirely.
His father is right to think there was snake in their midst. He had been mistaken about the identity of that snake. After all, how can Elia Martell be a snake when likes of Rhaegar Targaryen and Baelor Hightower exist?
How could anyone else be a snake when he exists?
He had been wrong in the Sept when he thought he had no father. How could he think that when he was exactly like both?