Archmaester Marwyn

Marwyn tidied up the room, moving papers into folders, placing books back on shelves. His father had always told him that a clean room meant a clean mind. His father had died drinking wildfire, thinking it would turn him into a dragon. His father was an idiot, but in this he had been right. Marwyn tidied things up and then turned and faced the man sitting on the chair. The man who Marwyn had taken under his wing and treated as a son. Petyr Baelish had risen in power and he had not forgotten the old doddering man who'd taken him in when the Tullys had rejected him. Marwyn looked at the man and asked. "What are the council saying? Now that the King is dead." Robert Baratheon, a man with a penchant for the sweeping reforms that Aegon the Fortunate had tried, the man who had succeeded where his great-grandfather had failed. Marwyn felt something at his death, but not enough to truly mourn him.

"They are now discussing the best ways to support the new King, and how to handle the fact that Baratheon did not name a regent, but instead decided to entrust the power of the Kingship solely in his son's hands." Baelish said. He sounded disapproving and Marwyn smiled, for all his penchants for extravagance and talking of new ways, Baelish still had grown up in a noble's household and had a great many things he wished to keep the same.

"A brave decision from Robert, the man was filled with them. The boy, what do you think of him?" Marwyn asked, he had gotten something of a look at the young King before the war had naturally stripped him of his youth. He'd thought him confident but a bit green. That greenness would be gone now.

"I think he will continue his father's reforms, he was raised with those reforms at the centre of his education and already I have received a notice from his equerries telling me to ensure the accounts are ready for inspection." Baelish said. There was a hint of worry in his voice.

Marwyn knew what was causing the young man to hesitate. "Do not worry Petyr, they will not know about the funds that Arryn asked you to send off to the Florents and the Osgreys. I have taken care of that." He'd ensured that the funds had gone from the account Arryn had opened long ago, but rarely checked. That was the benefit of being a Archmaester, he had enough clearance that the weighers and counters did not think to question his motives, but also enough to ensure that they did not think to undermine what he was doing by reporting it to their master. "And of course, I imagine that the Queen Dowager wishes for the gold to be moved from the vaults to the dungeons?"

Cersei Lannister did not trust many people and with reason, her own father had been silent toward her for some time now and that had caused some sort of rupture. The King had been meant to judge on the issue of the succession, but with his death, the grandson of Tywin Lannister might well let the issue pass for the time being. "Yes, she wants the gold moved down to level five, where the grinches and the snarks are kept." Marwyn raised an eyebrow, that far down meant only one thing. "She thinks that her goodbrothers are going to try and take things from her son?"

Baelish shook his head. "Stannis is already planning something, he has lodged a loan with the companies of Myrish bankers that I have in my employ and a member of Renly's household has been seen leaving the Street of Braavos, where the Braavosi merchants sell their wares. Naharis is winning in the vote, by the way. I have done what I can but the Braavosi do not seem willing to bite."

Marwyn waved a hand dismissively, his brother would see to Naharis and that other fool who was competing, but that did not matter. "Braavos will be the least of the throne's concerns. So, tell me, what other news do you have from the Red Keep?"

Baelish shifted slightly, Marwyn could tell the man was about to lie to him, so he kept his face straight and waited for the lie to come. "Lord Arryn has seen fit to send a letter from his wife to Winterfell. There the wife of the hand as asked her sister to come to King's Landing to help her with something of a family matter. I think she plans on staging an intervention for their brother, Lord Edmure. He has been spending money at prodigious rates."

Marwyn listened and digested the information and from what he'd been told took away that the King had sent for his friend, Robb Stark to come south for the marriage between him and Princess Myrcella, and that Baelish had planted the idea in Lady Arryn's head to write to her sister also and ask her to come. He sighed. "Petyr, you know that Lady Catelyn won't look at you the same way she does her husband."

Baelish's face immediately tightened. "Why not? You yourself told me that I could have any woman I wanted if I worked the way you asked me to. And I have. And I want her."

"She loves her husband, and he loves her. She rejected you once before Petyr, do not ruin everything you have worked for now chasing after some woman who sees you as nothing more than a friend." Marwyn said knowing that his words would fall on death ears.

Baelish stood up then his face flushed with anger. "I am sorry, but on this we must disagree. I will show Cat that I am worthy of her love, even if that means harming her husband." With that Baelish turned and walked out of the room.

Marwyn watched as his prodigy walked out of the room and sighed. He turned to the child who had been hiding behind the wall and said. "You have that information, go and tell your master of what you heard." The scurrying of feet told him the child was gone.

King Jon I Baratheon

Storm's End was a strong fortress, impregnable but haunted by ghosts. Those of the grandparents he had never met, the great-grandparents he'd never met, and so much more. His father's body had been burned in accordance with his wishes, and now the urn which contained his ashes was constantly in Jon's possession, he would bury his father, the first of the Baratheon Kings and the greatest, in the crypt where all Kings laid to rest. His uncle had given over the rooms of the most treasured guests for his use, and it was there that he was now, his uncle and Ser Loras standing before him. Ser Barristan and Ser Jaime stood guard behind him. Ser Borros had died during the fighting, slain by five peasants. His uncle had told him Ser Meryn had died as well, that meant they were down three Kingsguard, and he hadn't the faintest idea who to give a white cloak.

He looked at the two men before him and said. "Uncle Renly, you did yourself and the people of the Stormlands a disservice when you went gallivanting off to the Reach. I know Ser Loras was concerned about his family, but they are the rulers of the Reach, and you are the ruler of the Stormlands, you should not have gone gallivanting off to leave your people to face the wrath of the Vulture King."

Ser Loras scowled, but his uncle looked contrite. "I know, Your Majesty. I am sorry for that. I had thought I had covered everything in the Stormlands, Ser Cortnay had not informed me of the trouble that the Vulture King was carrying out."

Jon held up a stash of letters. "These were found in the rookery; it seems that they were either not sent or were returned unopened. Tell me, Lord Renly why would that happen? And also tell me why after having been told of what was happening in the Stormlands, to the fief that our father, the Seven bless his soul had given to you, you did not immediately direct your attention to the Stormlands?"

"I do not know why those letters are in that state, I certainly did not receive any letters telling me of any danger in the Stormlands, nor did your father tell me of anything that might be troubling the people, before he alerted me to it as I made my request. And I did not ask to divert the forces I'd been granted permission to levy, as I had already been told where those forces were for, and that His Majesty, the King, your father at that time would be marching to the Stormlands." Renly answered.

Jon looked at his uncle, and felt disgust, his uncle had sold out the people put under his protection to help the person he was fucking. "Next time, when the people of the Stormlands are in danger, I expect you to go and aid them, regardless of what Ser Loras demands of you in the bedchamber. Otherwise, I shall remove the Stormlands from your possession and give them to someone who actually cares. Is that understood?"

He could tell that Renly wanted to protest, Ser Loras looked ready to fight him there and then. His uncle bowed his head and murmured. "Yes Your Majesty."

"Good, you may leave." Jon said, the two men bowed and then left the room. Once they were gone, Jon spoke again. "I know you have something to say about this discussion, so you might as well speak freely Ser Barristan."

The Lord Commander of the Kingsguard stepped forward, his hair and beard where as white as the cloak he wore. He had served three kings before Jon had ascended the throne, and Jon often wondered how he felt about that. "Sire, I do not think that it is right to antagonise Lord Renly or Ser Loras like that. They made a mistake, and they have admitted it. Or rather Lord Renly made a mistake and has admitted to it. Yet had he not made the decision that he did, it is very possible that the Florents would've succeeded in overwhelming the Tyrells. Their support had grown quite considerably before Lord Rely appeared. Indeed, the southern Riverlords only stopped fighting when they learned the Florents had been defeated."

Jon stared at the knight, the man he had grown up admiring, and said. "I understand, but Ser Loras manipulated my uncle into fighting the battle of the Tyrells for them. He cost valuable support for my father against the Vulture King. And for that I will never forgive him. I also do not believe that the Tyrells truly fought as hard as they could have done." He knew Ser Barristan was going to ask about that, so instead he changed the topic. "Now, we have lost three knights of the Kingsguard, I want a suggestion as to who should replace them."

Uncle Jaime spoke then. "I think Ser Hugh Beesbury acquitted himself very well during the fight against the Tyrells, and he has shown promise with a sword, he is someone known to Your Majesty, I think he would make an excellent knight."

"I agree with Ser Jaime; I have seen Ser Hugh fight in the practice yard and I have seen how he holds himself during the ceremonies at court and during the daily life there. I think he would make a good knight of the Kingsguard." Ser Barristan said.

"Very well, Ser Hugh shall be invited to take up the white cloak. Anyone else?" Jon asked.

"I think Ser Balon Swann would make a fantastic knight of the Kingsguard." Ser Barristan said. "He is firm, loyal, and good with a sword and has a great head on his shoulders. He will not faint from doing his duty."

"I agree." Ser Jaime said.

"Very well, Ser Balon also." Jon said. "What of Ser Loras, would he make a good candidate for the third place? It would give the Tyrells something to preen about, and it would also enable me to keep a closer eye on him."

"If you think that is what is needed, Your Majesty." Ser Barristan said, though Jon got the impression his Lord Commander did not approve.

"I do. Send the letters out, and let them be knighted and sworn into the brotherhood at King's Landing." Jon said, pleased with the work done.