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A Queen To Be

Chapter 8

Three days later…

The boy was waiting for him in the solar when he returned from the session for today. Duncan and Jaehaerys sat on both sides of him, feeding him roasted meat and showering so many questions on him that they effectively kept him from eating. At Aegon's enter, he rose and bowed, still chewing the last mouthful he had managed to stick in his mouth during the questioning. However, he waited until he swallowed it before saying, "Your Grace."

"This is Robar Baratheon, Father," Duncan presented him. "He brings us some news from Mother."

Aegon immediately perked up, his exhaustion replaced by enthusiasm and then anxiety. As of last, his communications with Rhae and Daella had been cut off, since they didn't dare entrust anything of importance to ravens. Still, the fact that this Baratheon was the courier… what could that mean?

"We are having a new cousin," Duncan announced. "She doesn't have a name yet. Beauty, Rhaelle calls her."

Rhaelle would, Aegon thought as he broke the seal. No doubt his daughter was thrilled to have another girl in the family. In the last generations, House Targaryen had begun running heavily to boy children, so that made a nice change, even if Daella's girl would not be a Targaryen by name. Still, isn't it too early? He couldn't remember when Daella had been expected to give birth but it wasn't something that was expected too soon.

Rhae's words were very guarded, still he had no trouble reading between the lines. Obviously, the newborn was so tiny that they were all scared for her life. And then he reached the part that really made his skin crawl. He could only think of one person, one House, one fraction that would benefit most from having Rhaegar in their possession.

He looked at the blue-eyed youth. "Sit down and eat. Tell me what you know. And don't worry about talking with your mouth full."

The boy did need the nourishing. He seemed to have had no more than a few hours of sleep in just as many days. His face was gaunt, still it was clearly exhaustion and not frail health, if his appetite was anything to go by. Between mouthfuls of venison and Dornish red he managed to relay all that had happened coherently enough for Aegon to reach some conclusions.

"Her Grace also told me to give this to you," Baratheon finally said. "She was adamant that I show it to no one else. We found it on his person when we searched him." He decided against mentioning just how uncomfortable Princess Rhaelle and Alaenys had been, searching the bastard's person because, of course, they didn't have any male servants with them and whatever they found, they preferred not to entrust to Robar's entourage.

Aegon, his sons, and Ser Duncan all gathered around the brooch Robar now held out, the ravens surrounding the weirwood.

They were now really, really at the brink of a war. The very slim chance of having Rhaegar enthroned had just dissolved into nothing. The Blackwoods would never leave them alone. They would always try to influence the boy.

At least, they now had ally. The whim of fate that had sent Robar Baratheon passing by the chapterhouse of the silent sisters just when he had, had bound him to their cause.

"Very well," Aegon finally said. "Describe the man in detail – as much detail as you can recollect."

They needed some good ammunition.

An hour later…

"It was a close call," Ser Galend sighed. "If the girls hadn't ran outside… if this boy hadn't passed by just then…"

"It was," Aegon agreed. "We need to resolve the matter fast. I'll talk to Lord Blackwood now."

"And then we should have the Council elect you King," Aemon said, kindly.

Aegon shook his head. It was already throbbing in pain. "I am not quite sure…" he said, reluctantly. "After all, Rhaegar is the next in line. We are talking of robbing a child and stealing his throne. The fear of madness – yes, I understand. But I'll be more uncompromising than Father ever was – and that's saying something! I don't want even to think about Grandfather."

"That isn't true, Your Grace," Ser Galend said firmly. "They were both uncompromising when they had reason to be – for the Seven Kingdoms, the realm that your great-grandfather nearly ruined and they rebuilt. That's your duty and your first consideration. It isn't as if we are leaving the boy on bread and water. We are just striving to lead the kingdom through the perils we are facing."

Aegon stood up, went to the writing desk, stared at the blotting paper as id he expected to find some meaning in it. Behind him, Aemon and Ser Galend shared a look. the minds of those who abhorred the perspective of ending up with another Aerys on the throne. Now, after narrowly avoiding an uprising of all malcontents, with Blackfyres as close a threat as ever they needed to have a leader with the authority of king, not regent. Even if Rhaegar turned out to be safe, and that could only be Aegon. His taking the throne was the best course. He was well-loved by the smallfolk and respected by most nobles. He already had a family, three sons to safeguard the succession and the perspective to have more with his still young wife who was his sister, in the old tradition of the dragons. No other House could seek their advantage through kinship with the Queen. He had taken part in enough battles to ease With all his makings, Aemon would still have to start anew.

Aegon was the best choice, the obvious choice.

The price was just committing an injustice.

He was not willing to pay it, but pay it he must.

He turned to the others, his face a picture of stony resolve. "Send for Lord Blackwood. Immediately."

When the old man entered Maekar's private study, Aegon immediately saw that how sure he was that it would be Aegon who would capitulate. It was clear in the self-satisfied smirk on his face, in the almost offensively shallow bow that he made.

But he had it all wrong. Aegon smiled, all friendliness. As of late, he simply wore the Targaryen red and black, but for the occasion, he had donned a cloak with his father's personal sigil, the four three-headed dragons roaring scarlet rage. The crown of black iron and gold was lying on a side table, as if they had forgotten to take it back at its place.

"Your Grace has called for me," Lord Blackwood said. "I am waiting to hear what you have to tell me."

"You lost," Aegon said bluntly.

The man actually smiled, caustically. "I never lose!"

"So, now will be your first time." Aegon sat behind his father's desk and patted the papers on it that, in fact, had nothing to do with Lord Blackwood before going on. "Your attempt to abduct Prince Rhaegar has been thwarted. The boy is now safe. In fact, I've sent guards to secure my family's safety there, for I can no longer rely on the silent sisters for this."

The man's smile disappeared. "What? I've made no attempt. You've been misled…"

"Have I?" Aegon asked, icily. "The perpetrator was described to me in detail, my lord. And the description fit Ser Ballard of Ravenscar who's the captain of your household guard. We got three of his accomplices," he lied. "And we took this from him." He showed the brooch to the man before taking it back to the drawer.

Lord Blackwood smirked. "And who can say that this isn't a fabrication, something done specifically to compromise me? It isn't as if I am the only one who can commission such a pendant."

Aegon didn't move from his chair. Quire intentionally, he hadn't let the man take a seat. "Of course it isn't," he agreed politely. "I am just wondering who the Great Council would believe."

Here it was – the slight twitch of one eye. It was there barely a moment before disappearing but Aegon had seen it. The sign that Lord Blackwood was not as composed and sure of himself as he would like to look, the telling cue that he was afraid of the other lords. They had accepted Targaryen rule once because of the dragon might – but they would never accept one of their own, and not a Lord Paramount even, to rule over them. The very fact that he had tried to spirit the boy away to force the remaining Targaryens' hands was enough to doom him, even without a firm proof. By now, everyone had become so desperate for peaceful succession that no one who had been caught trying to break it could escape with his life and properties unscathed. Somewhere along the way, the Great Council had really taken all this talk about stability and reconciliation seriously.

Aegon stared at him hard. By the gods, how he wished that Aemon could be here, with him! But they had agreed that it would not be wise. "House Blackwood had always been loyal to the Iron Throne," he said evenly. "I have not forgotten. I suppose that a small transgression could be forgiven in the name of your family's long service."

A chance… the Prince was giving him a chance. He might escape without the great influence he had envisioned but with his honour, wealth, and person intact.

Aegon rose, slowly. "I will have your cooperation, my lord," he said. "I will have either your cooperation or your ruin. Which one is it going to be?"