Aerion stood near the wine, hearing the Lords and his uncle speak about matters of state.
In that time, and in the days he's taken up his duties had taken notice of some of the Small Council.
The first was the Master of Laws and Lord of Harrenhal, Lyonel Strong. His first impressions were that the man definitely jousted and fought in melees, possibly a veteran of battle but in the meetings he's observed he had found out the man is intelligent, slow but smart.
He had met one of Lyonel's sons in the training yard with Laenor, Ser Harwin who was nine and ten with curly dark hair and dark eyes but the man was clearly a powerful warrior from the way he threw others about.
Apparently, there is another who stayed in the Houses seat, they call the man the Clubfoot.
Next to Lord Strong was the Grand Maester, Mellos who was a man in up in years and is often too blunt and harsh to his peers such as Maester Orwyle who assists Mellos in the Rookery.
Lord Lyman Beesbury is kind, one of the few in the Small Council who ever made an attempt to speak to him when he wasn't too busy though the Master of Coin is often busy with work.
Opposite his uncle was the Sea Snake, the husband to Princess Rhaenys and father to Laena and Laenor. His Lordship is greying which turned his already white hair even whiter, understandable considering the seafarer is almost sixty.
He has to admit to having interrupted one session to ask about Lord Corlys' last and final voyage before coming home to his island.
"I see the Lord Commander has yet to grace with his presence... "
Aerion frowned bringing his gaze to the Hand of the King, his uncle sighed, "Daemon is busy, Otto. I am sure he is doing well with his new role."
The Hand didn't like his father, more than once in the few days he's been here did the man put down or criticize Daemon and the task that he had been working on for more than a year.
Although the Red Keep is well and good, the city acts like a savage place. Thieves, rapers, and murderers run amok at a high rate that if a Noble were to pay a visit then they would need to be heavily guarded, it was monstrous how the peasants behave when the ones charged with law and order aren't good at their jobs.
"Lord Hand, you sure do enjoy criticizing the Prince when his son is standing at present?" Corlys said and Otto looked right at him and then rung his wine cup, Aerion stifled a grunt as he walked over and filled the Hand's cup.
"I criticize him as we have given Daemon ample gold and time to train a new city guard, for months he has been at work, and still no update." His uncle gave him a look of sympathy as he went back to the table, setting the jug of refreshment back where it was.
"I will speak to him myself, Otto, you know how he can be... "
He knows how it sounded but his uncle meant well, he's noticed the King rarely wishes to be bogged down or stressed about certain matters.
After the session was over, he was asked to stay by the King, "I want to say you are doing well, nephew. You are quiet and handle Otto's heckling of your father with grace." He smiled and nodded with gratitude for the kind words.
"It isn't without restraint, my King. He can be quite irritable, I can see why Father dislikes him."
"Oh, Daemon loves poking at Otto's pride as much as my Hand does to him." His uncle rose from his seat, "Come, I would show you something."
Aerion followed his uncle up toward his chambers, and Ser Harrold Westerling followed beside the King.
The Kingsguard Knight reminds him of Ser Gared Corbray, brother to Lord Corbray and Master at Arms in Runestone, Harrold is dutiful but kind and once helped him perfect his stance in the training yard.
"Come inside, it is in here." He walked in and almost choked on air in surprise.
It was a small city, made with some sort of clay, and had intricate buildings and a dozen stone dragons scattered about it.
"... It's Old Valyria... " Like it might have looked hundreds of years ago, before the Doom would break the peninsula.
The ancient civilization of Valyria spanned the known world for more than a thousand years, defeating empires such as Ghis and the Rhoynish Princes.
Some say that Valyria at its apex could field a million soldiers and a thousand dragons of various sizes, it was horrifying to be the enemy of them for there would be not but ash and stories of how you've burned.
His Grace snapped his fingers, "That is correct, I had shown your father and cousin Rhaenyra but they were less interested, each piece and building are made exactly as the texts describe."
"Some say the place is cursed, the souls of the dead or worse make their home there now... " He said and his uncle had a solemn look on his face. "Uncle, are you alright?"
"You might be right, about it being cursed now." He was curious but knew his Grace wanted to let it go, so he did.
"You've flown a dragon before, Uncle?" He asked and his Grace smiled, picking up a statue of a miniature dragon.
"I flew Balerion twice around the city a few days before he died, the dragon had been through much over the centuries and had no doubt tired of being mounted."
Aerion remembers seeing Caraxes, the wyrm looked menacing, and no doubt Balerion looked twice so. "I have seen on the ramparts, Rhaenyra flying Syrax. Her dragon is beautiful."
"Aerion." His uncle said calling to him, "I know Jaehaerys had forbidden Daemon from putting a dragon egg in your cradle, it was not out of cruelty, you understand?" He knows, his mother explained it to him when he asked about it when he was younger.
"Driftmark had Meleys, now they control Vhagar and Seasmoke, as I understand. His late Grace didn't want any other Houses controlling dragons out of caution."
Viserys remained warm with a smile, "Yes, that was his idea... But he forgets you are still Targaryen." Aerion looked up with widened eyes, "Your father wasn't just adamant in bringing you to the Red Keep, he wished to get your rights as a Targaryen."
"Am I... Am I to claim a dragon?"
"Yes but with this I must get your oath, to never use it against your family. Never against your King, or his heirs with Aemma pregnant. I am sure to have a son by this year's end." Aerion's chest felt tight, he never thought he would get this honor, never in his short years would have been a possibility.
Getting to one knee, Aerion held his head low whilst holding back his grin and tears. "I swear to never raise my dragon against your grace or his heirs, I swear to the Old Gods and the New."
His uncle rose him up, "That's good to hear, nephew, now you may go with my blessing." He would have hugged his uncle but thought it not proper so he bowed and left swiftly.
Daemon Targaryen sat in his solar, thinking about today's training and the discipline he pushed his men through.
Furious thoughts did linger however to his Bronze Bitch and her snakily betrothing their son to some Arryn girl, a comely one if he had remembered in the few years he tolerated being in the land of shepherds and sheep.
She had to know he had ideals for Aerion, once he was in the city, he was going to find a way to marry him to Rhaenyra and tie both bloodlines as one.
It would be less of a headache once he became King, but now this is ruined.
His marriage was the one thing he hates more than Otto and the rest of those snakes in the Small Council, if he could he would go to Runestone right now and have Caraxes roast Rhea and her pathetic House like Aegon did House Hoare at Harrenhal.
The only thing that benefited him was their child, a boy that may not have existed had his father bade him consummate the marriage bed that night.
The Prince thought of his son, he may have not had his hair, not completely but Aerion reminds him of himself. His son's idea that their blood would rule the Eyrie, Runestone, and the Red Keep isn't too bad but it pales to what he had planned.
"My Prince is stressed?" The thick accent of his paramour called from the bed, earning not but irritants from him as he grunted a response.
"I am not in the mood Mysaria."
Mysaria had skin pale as milk. She was lithe and lissome, her lilac eyes watched him like a serpent looking for prey. She pushed the white blonde hair from her face, tucking them behind her ear.
He liked her due to lust and that she looks so much like a Targaryen with her Valyrian features, originating from Lys.
"Is it your son? Does he not please you, my Prince?" He turned sharply and eyed his lover sternly, she only smiled and had an amused expression to respond.
"His name day is fast approaching, I must do something for him." He let slip and rose from his chair, he tilted his head and looked at her, "That means get out." He said cruelly and Mysaria sighed, rolling out of his bed and throwing on her robe.
The following morning he decided to ride to the Red Keep and attend one of the meetings, then he shall take time to speak to his son.
The Small Council and his brother were surprised to see him entering the chamber, taking his seat on the left side of his brother and setting down his sign of office.
"Thank you, brother, for gracing us with your presence. Might we inquire about the efforts put forth on the city watch?"
Daemon couldn't help but smirk, "The men are almost ready, all that needs to be done is to test them. I am working on just that as the city desperately needs a proper guard." The Old King did well but in his later years, and in the few years his brother had been King the guards of King's Landing had become more akin to stray mongrels.
Taking bribes or aiding in thievery or rape, murder being the severest of these crimes.
Viserys seemed glad, "I would like more consistent reports from now on, brother, alright?"
Daemon reluctantly agreed, "I shall send them to you vigilant Hand, your Grace." His rival's eyes narrowed on him and Daemon simply smiled to irk the man further.
Otto is a weasel, a sniveling cunt who believes he is safe simply because his brother is too naive to see he is being led like a puppet to a mummers show.
The rest of the meeting was tedious, Lyman boring them all with talk of coin that reminded him how much he despised the position when he had it, well, apart from spending a bit of gold that wouldn't be missed.
It certainly wasn't as boring as his time as Master of Laws, and when he would have some joy doing it the cunt Otto talked his brother into taking him and placing him in charge of the city watch... Anything to keep him from the Red Keep.
Thankfully the session ended not too long after and left him, Aerion, and Viserys alone.
Not believing this was the best time he left a moment later, not a moment more he heard the sound of footsteps and turned to see his son was trailing him.
As his brother's cupbearer, Aerion was dressed in a red and black tunic, their House colors but Aerion had a shoulder cape with his little sigil combining House Royce with Targaryen as if they were equal.
They were not but he kept his mouth tightened about it.
"Father, can we talk?" His son asked and Daemon smiled, putting a hand on his son's head.
"What about?" He would indeed like to know, it can't be no surprising than what Aerion told him when he arrived in the city.
Turned out he was wrong, "It's about dragons, Father. Uncle Viserys said I could try to claim one for myself."
"Well, ain't that nice."
He remembered long ago having wanted one for Aerion's cradle, he even had a choice in mind but Jaehaerys was greedy over giving them to those of the blood but belonging to another House.
It was reasonable of course, considering what his great aunt Rhaena's seafaring friend did in stealing three eggs from Dragonmount and heading off to Essos but he was a Prince of the Blood, it was his right and the King refused his petition.
Unfortunately, that egg would hatch in the same year and become Syrax, his niece Rhaenyra's mount.
"Could you help me, Father?" His son asked and he found himself trying to figure out what to say, and instead, he walked past Aerion heading back to the council chamber where his brother was still sitting and talking to Harrold and now Aemma who came out of her chambers.
Viserys was surprised by his entering and sat straight, "Brother, do you need something?"
"Yes, I would like to know if what you said to my son was true or a jest?" He'd rather keep things straight to the point, unlike most Nobles around the Keep.
Viserys smiled, "Ah, you mean about the dragons?" He knows full well what he means, "Yes, I was truthful, it was decided shortly after you convinced me to bring my nephew to court." Viserys got up and walked over to him, "He is blood, and it wouldn't be right that I offer Laenor and Laena claim dragons and not my brother's son."
Daemon suddenly feels like such a fool, "Thank you, my King. For righting a wrong made so long ago." He bowed to his brother and then to the Queen before leaving the chamber and finding his son waiting for him.
"Father," Aerion said and Daemon felt a little prouder.
"Come, Aerion, we shall see to your dragon... "
Unbeknownst to the father and son enjoying their time together, a single urchin heard about the gift being given to the King's nephew and left to report it to the Hand.
Otto was shocked and annoyed about the Prince's whelp obtaining a dragon of his own, increasing his suspicion of Daemon's games with the King.
Unlike his Grace, he sees the ambition held in Daemon's eyes and knows that the man has designs on taking the crown.
Of course, as the only oldest male in the family the Prince has the right to call himself the heir but it isn't in the best interests of the Realm which needs a better head wearing that power.
"Thank you, now leave." He said to the urchin who left after receiving his reward for bringing him this information.
Otto broiled thinking that with someone with malice and violence and complete disregard for order as Daemon ascends, then the Realm will be lost to darkness as it had been before when Maegor the Cruel ruled Westeros.
The Hand of the King prayed, "Seven bless his grace with a son and soon... " The door to his chamber opened and he turned to see his sweet daughter enter with the same warmth that once beat inside her mother.
Not a day passes that he doesn't miss her.
"You need something, Alicent?" He asked and she approached, sitting down opposite him.
"No, you looked distressed when you returned, so I thought to come and see you." Such a sweet girl, polite and caring, everything a Queen could be if given the chance.
Otto sighed, relaxing in his chair, "Daughter, what do you think of the King's nephew?" He was curious.
The boy seems polite, and well-mannered considering whom his father is but Otto assumed that Prince Aerion Royce's upbringing is due to Lady Rhea Royce, the woman Daemon calls the 'Bronze Bitch'.
Alicent smiled and spoke truthfully, "He seems kind and courteous, I was with Princess Rhaenyra and Lady Laena in the Godswood a few days ago when we met him."
Otto reached over and took his daughter's hand, ignoring the way she treats her fingernails to inform her of his wishes. "I want you to get the measure of him, see if he is like his mother or like his father, understood?" He commanded it sternly to which she nodded, only then did he address her hands, "And you must stop destroying yourself, it is unseemly."
Alicent slowly nodded then got up from the chair, "Good night, Father." He smiled and watched her leave.
Chapter three is complete, onto chapter four then five.