AN: Mr. George R.R. Martin owns the content of this story. Reviews are always appreciated.
Chapter 10 Jon IV and The Mockingbird
Jon
"You have not been to a small council meeting in over a week, James." Jon said, as he sat with the King in his solar.
"I know," James responded.
The color from his face was gone and his trimmed beard was now unkept, along with his hair. Jon had not seen James like this in awhile, and the last time he was Lord Commander. Daenerys had made him love life again, and without her he did not seem to love. His face and eyes carried the weight of his guilt and anguish. Most of the days he spent in his robes, with the crown nestled on his head. He never left the solar, and only did to use the privy. Jon would bring him reports and the such, but other than that he never ruled; except the occasional order or two.
It had been almost two week's since the execution in front of the Red Keep. It wasn't all the time that, James, had to execute a criminal; in fact he never did, but this time it was different. Jon heard about what happened when Tyrion came to him in a rush, the dwarf was breathing heavily when he came to Jon with the news. And it stunned him. The cruelty Daenerys showed towards this women, for something that never happened, made him re-think about her gentle heart. Yet, she was known to harm those who brought harm to her and her family. What shocked Jon even further was upon this women's confession, Dany still had her killed. It was horrible, and would leave a taint on their reign for years to come.
James took it especially hard, and locked himself into seclusion. He spent most of his days in the solar, drinking and not ruling. The anger and guilt he felt over beheading the women was enough to strike grief into the strongest of men, and Jon could not blame him for that. Even Eddard Stark did not take killing lightly, and would spend days in the Godswood after an execution: to repent for his sins. Jon understood where this grief came from, it was the same he felt after he killed Qhorin Halfhand, or when Ygritte died. Although the arrow did not come from his bow, Jon couldn't help but feel responsible for her death. Perhaps she would've lived if he didn't run off on that horse, and maybe they could have children somewhere beyond the wall. There were days were Jon wished he stayed in the cave.
The royal couple did not see each other, or even talk to each other, according to Tyrion and Varys. James refuses to see Dany and will not talk to her, his anger with her was strong and he couldn't stand to see her. The Queen spent her days alone as well, her crying could be heard in Maegor's Holdfast, and sometimes Jon could hear it in his chambers in the Tower of the Hand. Daenerys attempted, numerous times, to see James, but he'd always refuse to see her: that's when the crying got worse. It began to get bad when he wouldn't see his children days at a time, and Jon knew that was unfair. Little Eddard and Rhaella did not understand what was happening between their parent's, and Arya was often left taking care of them. Most of the days Eddard would cling to Jon, and would cry for his mother and father, and it took Arya to get him away.
And so the King began to stop ruling all together, and did not go to small council meeting's or hear pleas, as well. The ruling of the realm was left to Jon, and it made him hate life all together. Most of his day's began visiting James in his solar, a cup of wine in his hand, and sadness in his eyes. He would tell Jon his commands, and than Jon would leave and go to the small council meetings. The small council became increasingly agitated that the King was not attending, and it took Jon to coax them out of their anger; for the better of the realm. The rest of Jon's day was spent listening to pleas; the small folk were still unhappy at the lack of food and supplies. The invasion of Westeros and the Long Night, left the land ravaged, and so the high lord's took from the small folk. James ordered a decree for the high lords to give their share, and so it made him increasingly unpopular with them. Daenerys did not rule either, and the loyalists were on their last thread of loyalty.
"People are beginning to grow suspicious, and they are not happy with you. The small council is growing increasingly agitated by you choosing not to attend, and not to mention your strife with Daenerys."
"You let me worry about Daenerys," James shot back, "Just tell me what's going on with the realm."
"Where do I begin?" Jon said, "The small folk are increasingly unhappy, James. They are starving as we speak, and most high lord's are equally as unhappy. It seem's your new decree was not well met. The loyalists are on their final string of loyalty, James. The Martell's call for Aegon and Dragonstone to be given over to Daenerys."
"I knew it wouldn't be. And let the Martell's whine; they will bend the knee and shut up about it," James replied, drinking wine, "Did you raise taxes on the high lords, like I asked? Those who won't give up their share, will have to pay higher taxes. So either way, they're giving to the small folk."
"Yes, I did." Jon said,
"And how did my, small council take it?"
"As was expected," Jon said, "They threw a fit over it, of course! I told you that it wouldn't be well received."
James scoffed, "Oh let them throw a fit. I really couldn't-"
"-It's not that!" Jon yelled in frustration, he grabbed the flagon and poured himself a cup. He found himself drinking more than he used to in order to cope with the stress of being Hand,
"They want you to rule again, James! They grow tired of these antics. Not coming to a meeting in almost two weeks, and you just sitting in here doing nothing!"
"Don't tell me how to rule, Jon. I'm doing just fine."
"Are you?" Jon retorted, his frustration growing, "You sit here all day in your drink. You've worn that same robe for a week. James, I'm sorry, but if you won't rule…I'm not sure I can do this anymore."
"What would you have me do, Jon?" James said, his anger rising before Jon, "My wife had me execute…no murder…some women in front of a whole crowd of people. And this just wasn't some women."
"It was that red-haired woman, what was her name? The one you were enamored with at Winterfell…"
"Her name was Ros," James said, his voice full of anguish. He turned away from Jon and drank another cup.
"Yes, Ros was her name. That women you loved-"
"-I never loved her," James corrected, "I was a fool, oh yes. Sure, I told her I loved her many times, but I was a boy. A foolish boy who would fall in love with any women that gave me the time of day, or let me stick my prick in them. Ros, had me around her finger, and I was her puppet: she was holding the strings. It's women like her and Cersei that make me distrust women with power. They don't have the power of the sword, so they use that one weapon, do you know which one I speak of Jon?"
Jon shook his head, drinking more wine.
"The one that's between their legs." James said, throwing his arms in contempt, "And sometimes that is the most powerful weapon of them all. Ros was proof of that, and so was Cersei. Sure, Ros was just some whore but she had power over me all the same that Cersei did. You don't have to be a Queen to hold power. Varys once told me that power resides where men believe it resides, Jon. And I'm staring to believe him."
It grew quite after that. Jon did not know how to reply, for he'd never been played for a fool by a women. Perhaps, one day he'll know the feeling.
"And the funny thing is that she was sent by Margaery Tyrell, to seduce me."
"Margaery?" Jon asked, he was in shock, "Why would she?"
"Why do you think," James said, "to cause strife between me and my wife; and she has succeeded. That women wants power and nothing more. All of those damn roses want the same."
More silence befell them before James spoke,
"Anyway," James said, pushing his chair in further, "How are thing's in the North, with our family?"
"Good," Jon replied, "Bran and Myrcella are happy. Sansa, Rickon, and your Lady Mother are doing fine. All is well in Winterfell, James."
"How about Stannis and Petyr?" James asked. His paranoia about those two men growing increasingly worse day by day, and it was getting to Jon. Still no word from them, after countless envoys and ravens. It was time for action.
"Nothing," Jon replied, "Varys knows nothing and has heard nothing. Both of them are in the dark, and our envoys have not returned."
James grunted, "To be expected. I'm about to go there myself, Jon. Just go and smoke them out of their holes."
"And that's what I've been telling you to do for months now! But you don't listen."
"Just give me time, Jon. I'll go."
"Good," Jon agreed.
James was pouring himself a cup of wine, when all of a sudden they heard cries echoing through the walls of the solar. The King stopped pouring his cup mid-way and just stayed in that position, as if he was frozen. Jon just sat there and listened, as the cries of Daenerys Targaryen could be heard through the Red Keep. He began to fiddle with his thumbs, when James resumed pouring.
"She cries for me, Jon." James said, starting the conversation again. Jon didn't want to say anything, because he didn't want to incur James's wrath, "She cries for me, and I can not bring myself to see her. What kind've man am I?"
"A good one," Jon replied, " A good husband and father. Why can't you just go and see her? She has been crying like that for two weeks."
A loud cry was heard as both men cringed at the same time,
"I just can't see her, Jon. My anger get's in the way every single time," James laughed, "Sometimes I'll dress and go to her door. I'll stand there for a few seconds, sometimes pace around, and finally when I'm about to knock on the door: I don't. All I can see is her pointing her finger at me, yelling for Ros's head. Screaming and crying, and yelling for her head. That isn't the women I love, Jon. That wasn't the Dany I fell in love with. It was like seeing some tyrant, it was like seeing….her father. I saw Mad King Aerys in those violet eyes, Jon. I can't see bring myself to see her."
"James," Jon said, when he waived a dismissive hand in the air. James cringed as Dany's whimpers could still be heard.
"Let me finish," he said as Jon nodded, "Ever since then I have the same dream every night. It begins the same, each time. I'm making love to Daenerys, as we used to do; I know you don't want to hear that, but it's the truth of it. Finally, when we finish and she lays in my arms, she turns to face me; but I don't see her face. I see Ros' decapitated head, staring back at me. The way her mouth contorted when I delivered the first blow, her green eyes crying, and the blood running down her neck. I can't sleep at night, Jon. I can't see, Dany."
Jon sat there quietly, it was worse than he feared. He'd never seen James this distraught, ever. Perhaps Jon would have been like this if he had heeded Qhorin Halfhand's orders, and killed Ygritte. Perhaps the man might still be alive.
"Do you still love her?" Jon finally asked, it wasn't the question he expected to ask.
James nodded, "I alway's will, Jon. She is the mother of my children."
"Speaking of your children, James. You must see them."
"I'd rather not," he replied, "Trust me I want to, Jon. I just don't want them to see me like this, or to see their mother that way."
"But you must!" Jon yelled, "They're your children!"
"I know," James said pouting, "And I will."
"You should see Dany as well," Jon said, putting his head in the wolf's mouth.
"I can't," James replied, "I can't bear to look at her."
"You have to, James! How long will you stay mad at her? You vowed to love her and protect her! She is your wife and the Queen, you can not talk to her forever. If not for yourself, do it for the realm! You need to show that you guy's are still united, and one! And if not for the realm, than do it for the children, James. They don't deserve this."
James stroked his chin, and drank more wine. Jon noticed he clenched his jaw, and coiled his hands. The frustration and hurt clearly present on his face. Jon didn't know what else he could do, he felt loss. Only father seemed to talk sense in to anybody, no matter how stubborn they were. Ned Stark alway's knew what to do, and he would've known now. It seemed the Stark family needed him now more than ever.
"Father would've known what to do," James said, in anguish, "He would've known."
"Well he isn't here anymore, James. And it's up to you," Jon said pointing to him, "It's up to you to figure it out, as father would have. Not up to me, or to Tyrion, or to Daenerys. Up to you. And if you can't figure this out, than we are lost."
"You make sense, my Hand."
"Thank you."
"There is one last thing," James said, he turned to face Jon, "When I go to Dragonstone and speak to Stannis, I'm forcing him to give up his seat. He'll go to Storm's End and live out his days there. I don't care if he is upset about Gendry being Lord, he will obey my command. Stannis may be pig-headed, but he is honorable and does his duty."
"And what will you do with Dragonstone, James?"
James smiled, which was weird to see, "Well, I'm giving it to you, Jon."
Jon was shocked, he slumped back in his chair, and thought. Dragonstone was the seat of the Targaryen dynasty, and always had been for years. The heir to the Throne always sat at Dragonstone, and it was always a Targaryen; but in recent years it's been left in Stannis' hand's. Now James was giving it to Jon, but he was reluctant.
"James…I don't know what to say-"
"-Don't," James said, "It's about time a Targaryen sat on that throne again. And I want that man to be you, Jon. Yes, you'll still be here as Hand of the King, but I want you to have Dragonstone. It's what Dany wanted."
"And what about Aegon?" Jon asked, "He should have it."
James laughed, "Aegon is a prisoner, the last I checked. No it is going to you, Jon."
"I will have to-" Jon said.
"-No you won't," James interjected, when a knock on the door came, "You will say yes and you'll take it, Jon. I know you don't like thinking of yourself as a Targaryen, but it's what you are. You will have Dragonstone."
The sounds of children laughing could be heard outside, and Jon looked over as a smile began to tug at the King's face: it was his children. Jon was happy to see him smile, but he hope he'd actually see the royal children. If not the Queen, than maybe he can mend thing's between a father and his kids.
"Who is it?" James asked, as a nervous voice responded. It was his squire Edric.
"It's Edric, your grace," the boy cleared his throat, "Your children want to see you."
"Well, Edric-" James began, when Jon shot him a look. He nodded at James who returned in kind, "Let me put on something other than this robe, and then they can come in."
"Yes, your grace." the squire replied, as Jon smiled.
James stood up and quickly put on grey tunic, while he kept on the black breeches he was wearing. He discarded the robe. Than he combed out his hair with his hands, and sat back down in his chair.
"Send them in, Edric." James said, but the door didn't open.
"I'm with them, James," a voice said through the door, and Jon knew it was Daenerys. James's face immediately contorted, and his face turned red. His jaw clenched and his fists coiled; breathing became ragged, he was nervous.
"Come in," James said, as the door slowly creaked open.
Jon turned his head around and saw the Queen meekly poke her head through the door, and the kids standing in front of her. If Daenerys had been crying twenty minutes ago, it did not show. She wore a dress of violet with her golden crown on, and her eyes were not red. Jon stared at her and wondered how a man can stay mad at a beauty like that; Daenerys was a women who could put most women to shame, and could melt any man's heart. Jon watched as she nervously stepped forward toward's James, step by step, as the kid's ran over to their father and threw themselves on him.
Dany moved as if she was a slug, and was waiting for James's approval. It was his approval she wanted more than anything, Jon could tell. She wanted her husband to throw himself from his chair, run over to her, and kiss her for the whole world to see: but he didn't. James sat there in his chair, playing with his two kids as Daenerys stood before him. She didn't say a word and just watched, with a smile, as she saw her kids happy. James did not meet her smile or her gaze, his gaze lingered on his children; and nobody else. The children's laughs filled the room, as Dany placed her hand on his, and he slowly retracted from her touch. Jon knew that action alone probably hurt more than a dozen cuts from a sword.
Both kids sat on James's lap, as he refused to meet Dany's eye's: those eye's Jon knew he loved. No word's needed to be exchanged between the two to get the feel of the room. Soon the kid's began to take notice, as little Rhaella began to cry and call for her mother, but James did not move. Eddard clung himself against his father, as James ordered the kid's removed: he didn't want them to see their parents fighting.
Rhaella ran over to Jon and he held her, as he clutched Eddard's hand and they made for the door. Jon turned around once more, and saw Dany on her knees, before James. She looked like a beggar. Jon noticed tears in her eyes, as James sat there and refused to look at her; a hand on his chin. Jon could swear he saw tears in those grey eyes too. Jon was not sure if James meant to be cruel, but perhaps it was his demeanor, or maybe he really was.
"Am I so horrible?" he heard Dany say in a whisper, as he gave the kids to Dany's handmaidens. The tone of her voice was one seeking approval, and love.
"James?" she asked again, her voice frail and broken and her hands clinging to his breeches, "My love, please say something."
He still wouldn't speak to her, "I'm sorry, James. I'm so, so, so sorry. I love you more than you'll ever know, if you could just please find it in your heart to forgive me."
The last thing Jon saw was Dany's finger's begin to cling to his thighs, and move to his hand's, but James looked at her now.
"Don't," was all he said. The anger in his voice permeated through the room, like the heat from a fire, or the smell from the sea. Jon in that moment felt bad for Daenerys, and felt anger toward's his older brother.
"Can you not even hug me?" She pleaded with him. Daenerys's voice was wavering and Jon could sense how hurt she was. Jon was closer to James in all his years they spent at the Wall together, and knew that he'd come around eventually. He atleast told Dany that much when he visited her in her chambers after the execution.
"Give him time, Daenerys, he will come around."
"How much time does he need? The man won't even look at me."
"James is a very stubborn person, and does not like it when he is humiliated. What you did to him, Dany, the person you made him kill-"
"-I know who we killed. Some whore he bed in Winterfell, the one who took his virtue."
"But she meant more to him than that! You don't know, you don't know..."
"...Of course I know! James told me about her."
"You don't! He loved her, Dany, he loved her like you did your Dothraki Khal. They were to share a child together, if what James says is true."
"He told me about that, the night in the Godswood during my coronation."
Jon sighed. "And now you're surprised by the results? James loves you, Dany. Let him come around, go plead for his forgiveness, do something! Laying around here and moping all day won't solve anything."
James sighed, looking at her in the face but his gaze was frozen. He didn't say a word, but none needed to be exchanged to get the feeling of animosity, contempt, anger, resentment, sadness, and love that was coming out of him. Jon locked eyes with him and communicated something with him that he thought only Sansa was capable of.
"She's suffered enough, James. You can at least give her a hug."
"I won't."
"I'm not saying to forgive her, but at least show some emotion towards her. She is the mother of your children!"
He nodded.
James stepped forward towards her, and took her into a long-deep embrace. His hands were wrapped around her back, as she closed her eyes and placed her head onto his chest. Daenerys looked up at him and inched closer to his face, looking for the kiss that would seal his forgiveness, but James didn't give it. It was too soon, in his eyes.
"Goodbye, Daenerys." He said, releasing her from the embrace and motioning her to the door.
She took a step back, in shock. "Wha...What?"
"I can't kiss you yet, it is too soon."
This time she stood her ground, and did not move, her hands on her hips. "You cannot command me to leave as if I am some handmaiden or one of your servants. I am the Mother of Dragons, your wife, your queen, the mother of your-"
"And you're also the woman who is responsible for all of this. For the death of a woman who meant more to me than you think."
"She was just some whore!" Dany yelled. Gods, this isn't good.
James gave her a hardened look and sat back onto his chair, refusing to meet her look. By now, Dany had realized her mistake and stepped forward towards him.
She cupped his cheek. "I'm sorry, James, I didn't mean to-"
He took her hand off his cheek. "Get out."
"What?"
"Get out, Dany. You've crossed the line, now leave."
Jon stood in front of the door and nodded at James, as he turned around and closed it. Dany's cries began to echo through the Red Keep.
-x-
The Mockingbird
"And are you sure of this?" Stannis asked, as the Mockinbird sat with him in his table at Dragonstone.
The Mockingbird faced the giant wooden carved table, the table had all of Westeros carved into the it, and was built by Aegon the Conquerer. He felt every hill and valley and city with his finger's, as he made his way closer to the former, "proclaimed," King of Westeros. Stannis still had those dark blue-eyes, and cropped black hair as he took his seat next to the man. He eyed the Mockingbird up and down with disdain, and he could tell Stannis did not like him. Stannis had not changed and still was the humorless, stubborn, unforgiving man with an inflexible sense of duty and justice. The man still did not forget a slight, and was the reason he hated the Mockingbird. His advisor and friend Davos Seaworth was not with them, but was with his family in Rainwood. Where he rained as the Lord of the Rainwood, located in the Stormland's.
"I'm absolutely sure, my lord. There is strife between the King and Queen."
Stannis grunted, "And how are you so sure of this? How do you get your information?"
The Mockinbird reclined in his chair, "I have many, shall we say, 'clients,' in King's Landing who let me know how thing's are going."
"Lord Varys, you mean."
"Yes, the Spider is one of them. He let's me know how thing's are going and one of his little birds, as he calls them, told me about the strife between the King and Queen."
"And what exactly happened?" Stannis asked, his teeth began to grind.
"Well, stories differ but, it is said that the Queen had a women executed before the people. However, the executioner was the King and this wasn't any sort of woman. Account's vary as to who she was, but I knew her; she used to be in my service."
"A whore," Stannis said, angrily. The mockingbird knew of his dislike for brothel's and whores.
"Yes, a whore. She was a whore named, Ros, who knew the King….well."
"And why should I trust you, Lord Baelish? I know you to be a man of no honor, and you only care for yourself. Tell me why I shouldn't just take your head?"
"Because than there would be no deal, you grace," Petyr said, sarcastically. Stannis ground his teeth even harder.
"Why should I trust this deal? How do I know you won't just stab me in the back, as you have done so many others?"
"Because the Young Griff remembers those who help him. This mutual friendship is one of benefits for both of us."
"And why is that?"
"Because," Baelish began, "Because when the Young Griff takes back what he is, he will remember who wronged them. First off, he will make me Master of Coin and let me keep the Vale. He has promised that you will be his Hand of the King, and he will also give you Storm's End."
Petyr noticed the look in Stannis's face resemble something of joy, "Yes, he will dispose of Robert's bastard, and make you the Lord of Storm's End. Not to mention you'd be his Hand. What more could you want?"
Stannis grunted, "Spare me, Lord Baelish. These are thing's of your doing, and not Aegon Targaryen's. How could you broker this deal with him, if he sit's in my jails here in Dragonstone?"
"Does he?" Baelish said, smiling, "Aegon may be a prisoner, during the day, but he is not during the night. He has played his role, for now, and has waited patiently. I've been communicating with him and Varys, for awhile now, and we both want the true King on the Throne."
"And why would you want that?" Stannis asked, "You would only want Petyr Baelish on the Iron Throne."
Baelish laughed, "Yes, I'am a man of ambition, but I also don't make enemies of the wrong people. I like my head on my shoulders. Consider this, Stannis. Right now is the time to strike!"
"Why?"
"Consider this," Petyr said, folding his hands, "The loyalist's will go to Aegon, once he has declared himself the rightful King. He is the son of Rhaegar and Elia, making him the true King. His aunt Daenerys is nothing but a mere pretender, and her pathetic King even more so. The Martell's grow disgruntled at Aegon's imprisonment, and James on the Iron Throne. They will pledge to us, along with all the other Targaryen loyalist's. The small folk have no love for James, and neither do the high lord's. He has raised taxes and demanded grain of them. Aegon has been raised for leadership, and knows that the people should come first. James Stark is not one of those King's."
Stannis ground his teeth some more, the sound drove Petyr mad, "I have no love for James Stark, or his family. The boy is King and did not seek to make me Lord of Storm's End, as is my right. All he did was give it to Gendry, a bastard." Stannis grunted, "He may be legitimized, but he is still a bastard, nonetheless. It's why I haven't responded to the King's raven's or these numerous envoys he's sent. I don't like him."
"Than we see eye-to-eye for once, my lord. Consider the Young Griff's proposal, and join us. Westeros need's a true King."
"Give me two day's to think this over, Baelish. I will give you your answer then. For now, you can stay here on Dragonstone. I will summon you when the time comes."
"Until then," Baelish said getting out of his seat.
He spent the next two day's in his chambers, and did not leave once. Servant's would come three times a day, and would see that he was fed, but other than he wasn't visited. Dragonstone smelled of volcanic ash, and it constantly filled the air. It was hard to breath so Petyr just stayed inside, and waited for Stannis's reply. Petyr stayed in the Sea Dragon Tower, and outside of his room was Aegon's Garden. It was where he found himself staring at most of the day: thinking. Their plan had to go smoothly and they had to strike now.
Westeros was not as united as people would believe, and Baelish had an ace up his sleeves: the Greyjoys. Aegon knew about it but Stannis didn't, and he planned to tell them about how Petyr brokered a deal with them to invade the North. Asha Greyjoy wanted to live up to her beloved father's reputation, and wanted to plunder the North. Stannis Baratheon was such a serious and dutiful man, that he would keep to his word. Sure, he would have like to go see Aegon and talk about he final preparations. Petyr had seen to the preparations himself, and sent many raven's to loyalists who would declare for Aegon.
Finally the knock came on the door, as a soldier escorted Petyr back to the Painted Table. The Painted Table is more than fifty feet long: roughly twenty-five feet wide at its widest point and four feet at its thinnest. At the precise location of Dragonstone is a raised seat that allows the occupant to view the entire he arrived Stannis was there, drinking a cup of water; because Stannis never drank, and Petyr took a seat next to him. He looked down at his mockingbird brooch and fiddled with it, as Stannis sat there drinking his water.
"So I've given this some thought," Stannis finally said, drawing Petyr out of his thought's.
Petyr grew nervous because he could not tell what Stannis was thinking, and the man just stared at him.
"I will join you," he finally said, and Petyr sighed in relief, "I want my end of the bargain to be in writing. I need to speak to Aegon directly."
"And so you will," Baelish said, "Varys and I were never huge friends, but we have become so now for the realm. Release Aegon now and we can say he escaped. No more and no less. I would reply to an envoy if I were you, Stannis, just so they wouldn't grow suspicious."
Stannis ground his teeth, "Perhaps, I will. I can let them know about his escape now. We will say it was you, and you can go in the dark."
"As if I already haven't!" Baelish said, laughing, "Being in the dark is easy for me. Now, I recommend bringing Aegon in here."
"Good," Stannis said, "You over there!" he yelled at the soldier, "Bring me Aegon!"
"But, Ser-"
"-Do I need to repeat myself? Bring him now."
"Yes, my lord."
The soldier's returned twenty minutes later, as they threw Aegon into the room. The Young Griff, as he was called, sported an arrogant smile as he was brought in wearing chains. His silver Targaryen hair had been cut short, and he wore nothing but rags. The two guards threw him on his knees, as he eyed both Stannis and Petyr.
"Unlock his shackles," Stannis commanded with a waive of his hand, "And bring some water when you're done."
"Yes, my lord," the second soldier said, as he took out a pair of keys and released Aegon of his bonds. The boy stood up and streched, shaking off the feeling of his shackles. He walked over with an arrogant smile, and took a seat across from Petyr; smiling. He never said a word.
"It feels good to be free," Aegon finally said, as servants came with water, "So I take it Lord Stannis here has accepted my offer."
"Yes he has, your grace," Petyr said, "Stannis agrees to all."
"Good," Aegon replied, pouring himself water, he took a sip but slammed the cup down. "Water? Where is the wine?"
"There is no wine," Stannis said, "I don't drink so I don't have wine."
"A shame," Aegon said, eyeing the pitcher, "So, Lord Stannis. I'd expect for you to have more questions."
"I do," Stannis said, facing Aegon, "I want to know exactly what you're plan is."
"Ok," he began leaning back in his chair, "The plan is simple: we invade King's Landing and take what is mine, with fire and blood." He smiled. Stannis was not amused.
"It's good to know that you know your houses words, but that doesn't really tell me anything. I want to know how exactly you plan to re-take King's Landing."
"Simple," Aegon said, "That's very simple, my lord. When I escape, which I will, I plan on going back to the Vale with Lord Baelish. From there I will send envoy's to all the Targaryen loyalists, the Martells, and the like. Once they know it is me, they will swear fealty to me. I know you will ask how I know of this, and I do."
"And how do you?"
Aegon sighed, "Varys has told Littlefinger here about the growing disdain the loyalist's have not only for my sweet aunt, but her husband. They don't want him on the throne, or her for that matter: they want me. They want the son of Rhaegar and Elia, and they will. I've been talking to Margaery Tyrell, and she has agreed to cause strife between James and Daenerys. She has succeeded."
"How again, do you know?"
Littlefinger cleared his throat, "As I told you a couple days past, there is strife between the King and Queen. According to Varys, they haven't talked since the execution, and the King is not ruling. He hasn't attended small council meeting's. The realm is divided, my lord. The only major houses allied to the Throne are the Baratheon's, Tyrell's, Tully's, and Stark's. I won't send them forces from the Vale."
"And what does Margaery Tyrell get for this?"
"To be my wife," Aegon said, "I will make her my Queen. Daenerys and her children will die when I take my throne."
"So tell me the rest."
"Anyway," Aegon interjected, "With this strife the Queen and King are divided, and we simply invade. Than you will ask me about how we can keep the North at bay, and it's simple: the Greyjoys. Asha will attack the North, and hold Moat Cailin once I give my command. If she hold's the Neck, she hold's the North, and the Stark's will not be able to get soldiers in time. The Lannister's are too weak to fight back, and the Baratheon's will be divided between joining you or Gendry. Some view you as the rightful Lord of Storm's End. The Tully's and Tyrell's may present a problem, but the Martell's can take care of the roses; they have no love for one another. And I will declare you my Hand and dispose your nephew as the Lord of Storm's End."
Stannis ground his teeth, "This all sound's great, but you forgot one thing: dragons. Yes, your aunt still has those creatures, Aegon. The same one's Aegon the Conquerer used to take over Westeros in the first place."
"Yes, my aunt does have dragons. However, she forget's that I'am a Targaryen, and the dragons will bow to me. I know she keeps them in Dragonpit, in King's Landing. I have already spoken to Varys about sneaking me into the city, so that I may take one of those beast's that should be mine."
"I agree to this," Stannis said, "I will join your forces, but I want a written word."
"And so you shall have it," Aegon said, "I will write it out for you. I alway's remember my friends."
"And there is one more thing," Petyr said, smiling, "We need to seal the strife between the King and Queen. We need to divide the realm now more than ever."
"How is that?" Stannis asked, "What more could we do that they haven't already done to themselves?"
This time Aegon smiled,
"We need to assassinate the King."