Princess Myrcella Baratheon

Myrcella twisted a strand of her hair around her finger, and looked at her brother. It felt strange having her older brother back, he'd been gone for six years, and he'd changed. He was taller, his shoulders were broader, and he looked more confident. Myrcella knew she'd changed as well, she was more outspoken, prettier, and a lot sharper than she'd been at the age of seven. Jon looked at her and smiled, she smiled back, and then she asked. "What's Robb actually like?" She fought back a blush, knowing that if she did blush, she'd never hear the end of it.

She expected her brother to tease her for asking, instead he simply said. "He's a good lad, smart, caring, funny, kind. He's got a good head on his shoulders. You'll like him, he's not like some of these fools around court, especially not like Ser Aurane Velaryon."

Myrcella laughed, Aurane Velaryon the firstborn son of Lord Monford Velaryon, was a proud man, and someone who was quite beautiful, inhumanely beautiful, and someone who was aware of that. He'd petitioned for her hand before. "I don't think there's anyone quite like Aurane."

Jon grimaced. "That man is nothing but trouble, I don't know why Father keeps him at court." It was clear from the way Jon held himself as he spoke of the other man, that he didn't like him. Myrcella grinned.

"I think it's to do with the fact that Father wants to remind Lord Monford of what he has over him, after all, there is the whole issue of Velaryon controlling some thirty of the two hundred ships that sit in the Royal Fleet." Myrcella said.

Jon nodded, then turned the conversation back to their original talking point. "But yes, Robb's good, he's got a lot of things he likes talking about. As I'm sure you're aware from your letters." Myrcella blushed then, but thankfully unlike Tommen, Jon did not ask what she wrote about in her letters to Robb.

Instead, she asked. "What are you making of court, since your return?" She imagined that after being with dozens of boys at Oldstones, where he'd rough housed and learned how to be a man, being amongst young women, but also other men again, must have been quite strange.

Her brother shrugged, as was his way, it was quite a similar mannerism to Father's. "It is what it is. The people here still fawn and simper over some things, and they still demand attention for things they have no right demanding. It's just that I am far more aware of it now. Especially, with the situation with our Lannister cousins. Did you know Cerenna tried to proposition me earlier?"

Myrcella burst out laughing then. "That doesn't surprise me. Cerenna sees herself as another Cersei Lannister, she wants to be Queen, and I think her brother Daven and Uncle Stafford are encouraging her in such a pursuit. Whether grandfather knows about this I don't know, but I know Mother doesn't approve."

Jon grimaced. "I really don't like her. She came on far too strong, and it was only because Uncle Jaime was there that I managed to get away from her."

Myrcella wanted to laugh and tease her brother about that, but she knew Cerenna and she suspected that the methods their cousin had used had not been appropriate to someone of their station. "Well, now you've said no, she's either going to try again or send in Myrielle."

They both groaned then. "Myrielle? Really? She's nice and all, but she prefers Tommen, everyone knows this. Why are they so desperate to have one of themselves as Queen? Hells, I'm pretty sure that if he were a woman, Daven would be looking to get into my bed." They both laughed then. "And of course there are others, Jeyne Westerling for one, and her sister, they're both nice but too quiet. Uncle Renly's been pushing for me to consider Margaery Tyrell." Here Jon paused and looked at her. "You've met her, what's she like?"

Margaery had been one of her ladies in waiting for a time, until something had happened, some argument between Father and Lord Mace, and Margaery had been summoned back to Highgarden, that had been a year ago. They still kept in contact through letters, though those weren't as often as perhaps they should have been. "She's nice, she's got a quick brain and she knows more about how things run than perhaps anyone at court, other than myself and Mother. But I'm not sure. Her father would try to use her to influence you, and of course Uncle Renly is head over heels for Loras."

"Loras Tyrell is an idiot. He only got his knighthood because Uncle Renly threatened to go on strike." Jon responded.

Myrcella laughed. "What's he done to annoy you? The way he's been acting, you'd think he thought the sun shone out of your arse."

Jon grinned. "It does." He then stuck a finger up at her and said. "It's not just that, it's his whole bearing. As if he considers himself above us all just because he has Uncle Renly wrapped around his finger. Sometimes I feel like asking him to spar with me. But then I remember that he'd not go at it completely as he'd not want to get in trouble for trying to fight me."

"Do you think he'd beat you?" Myrcella teased, they both knew that nobody could beat Jon, with a sword or a hammer in hand he was nearly unstoppable.

Jon laughed. "Gods no. He's all flash and little actual skill. He's more of a flash pony, though he'd make a good Kingsguard, no doubt when Ser Barristan dies, that's what will be suggested. Put a ponce in the Kingsguard and degrade it further." In the corner, they both heard Uncle Jaime snort, but neither said anything about that.

Myrcella took her brother's hand and said. "Well I'm sure there will be an announcement of one of our betrothals soon enough."

"Aye, hopefully to decent people." Jon replied, they looked at one another and both burst out laughing. It was good to have her brother home.

Archmaester Marwyn

Marwyn strolled through the streets of King's Landing, like any big city, there were elements that were pleasant, there was a huge library on the Street of Baelor, and there were countless wine sinks where one could go to enjoy a few hearty beverages. There was of course a downside to all of this, mainly the stink, shit covered the streets of some areas, and more than once returning from a visit to an alehouse, Marwyn had had to knock a few people out on his way back to his rooms in the Tower of Books, where the Citadel was now housed. Or at least partially housed since King Robert had demanded they move from the Citadel, some years ago. Some of his fellow Archmaesters had grumbled at having to move, but he'd loved it. Oldtown was great and all but it was quite stuffy, and truth be told he didn't like being watched by the Hightowers.

He pushed open the door to the establishment, walked passed the women who were playing with themselves, and through another set of doors, then he sat down. The man he wanted to see came through another set of doors and nodded to him. "Close the doors." The man told his guards. The girls disappeared as well, so that it was just the two of them. "What can I do for you?" the man asked.

Marwyn smiled. "You can relax, Petyr, I killed the three rats that the Spider sent after me. They won't be haunting your establishment anymore." Petyr Baelish, master of coin, and his prodigy relaxed quite considerably. The man took a seat, and Marwyn spoke once more. "You have done as I asked in regards to Braavos?"

Baelish nodded. "I have, I have sent word to our supporters there and requested that they begin shipping off the documents you requested as soon as possible. Neither Arryn or the King know about this, and I have endeavoured to make use of the men you recommended."

Marwyn smiled. "Good. It is important that those documents come here before there is another conclave." Especially as his own sources in Essos reported that there were red priests departing from Asshai for one reason or another.

"Do you think then that the maesters of the conclave will attempt to reverse the King's ordinance, and try to return to Oldtown?" Baelish asked.

Marwyn considered the question, Baelish was an intelligent young man, and they'd known each other since Baelish had been thrown out of Riverrun as an even younger man nearly twenty years ago, Marwyn had taken him under his wing and decided to teach him something of life. "I believe the conclave will do what they have always done in circumstances such as these. They will find a candidate who benefits them in the King's council and they will fund him and champion him and ensure that he gets what they want done. When that is done, they will kill him. Initially, during the reign of King Aegon the Fortunate, that was Pycelle, but then Pycelle began his love affair with Tywin Lannister. He was protected because he was useful to certain factions of the conclave, but when he openly supported the King's reforms, his target grew bigger."

Baelish nodded, Marwyn knew his prodigy knew all of this already, but from time to time it was good to test him, to see what he remembered, and what he claimed to remember. "And of course should Pycelle die, then they will choose Gormon Tyrell as the man to champion their reforms, which would explain why Lord Renly has been pushing for a marriage between his nephew the crown prince and Margaery Tyrell."

"Indeed, and then of course, there is the simple reason that the Tyrells want the conclave back where they can control them. The Hightowers have always done as the Head of Highgarden has asked of them, they did it with the Gardeners, and then they started with the Tyrells." Marwyn said simply. He could see that Baelish was growing impatient though. If there was one area in which Baelish, so often calm, collected and calculating could be faulted in, it was this, when he could sense that they were getting to the heart of the matter, he would never be able to hold still. "Of course, you will get the chance to see whether or not your theory regarding Lysa Arryn holds true. Her husband is venturing toward the Conclave in three days' time, he has sent word to me to prepare for it."

Jon Arryn was someone Marwyn had known for most of his adult life, and he was a proud man, someone who did not like thinking that he had left anything to chance. That was why Marwyn always felt it surprising that he had abandoned the Targaryens, surely he knew the words that had been said between his own father and his cousin, the woman he so clearly loved still, a promise that had been made so long ago, that had burdened the father as it now did the son. Baelish did not know any of this of course, which was why Marwyn was not surprised when he asked. "Do you not think he will come to learn of what we are planning here? How could he not, when he has his spies everywhere?"

Marwyn patted Baelish's hand and said. "Jon Arryn like all nobles sees only what he wishes to see. If he thinks that there is some fault in the lines, then he will go there. If he does not think there is a fault, he will not bother venturing there. It is the nature of these men. They are not inquisitive by nature." Marwyn took a breath then said. "You will need to speed up our plans though, for the Vulture King is returning and we must have everything we need by then."

Baelish did not blink he merely nodded. "Of course, I shall have it done as soon as I can."

Marwyn nodded, stood, kissed the boy's cheeks then walked out of the brothel, he walked through the streets, and made his way back to the Tower of Books, where the messenger was waiting for him. He looked at the messenger and said. "Tell him, that the boy is doing as asked, he will have his evidence." The messenger nodded and disappeared.