King Aemon I Targaryen
Even in the throes of winter King's Landing was damnably hot. It seemed as though the placement of the city next to the sea, and the numerous forges and other such buildings made the city constantly swelteringly hot. Aemon did not truly mind after all he was a dragon, and dragons did not burn. Six years since the war of the dragons had ended, the seven kingdoms were at peace, trade was booming and the people were becoming rich and fat off the land and the coin they made. Aemon himself was rather enjoying the security of knowing that he no longer had to worry about potentially being killed in the night, nor did he have to worry about his wife or children's safety, for none would dare harm him or his now.
Relations with his mother had improved slightly, it helped he supposed that he was now a parent himself and could understand some of what had gone on in his mother's mind when the struggles had been going on. That and the fact that Tywin and his mother had finally explained why he had been left behind, if he had fled to Dragonstone Aerys would have attempted his coup much earlier and things would have been a lot less easy for him to reclaim the throne. After all, the lords of Westeros he had learnt only cared about two things, their families and their power. Mace Tyrell had flirted with danger and power as his father had before him and so had ridden the snake that was Aerys Targaryen and paid for it with his life, as had Redwyne. Lords would not fight for a child if they thought the child to be weak and without potential, Aemon knew now that none of his lords would betray him, not if they wanted to keep their heads on their shoulders.
There had been those who had called for Elia and her children to be imprisoned or exiled, and whilst he knew that Prince Doran would have welcomed his sister and niece and nephew back to Dorne, Aemon was not in a position to let them go back. It was not that he feared what would happen to them if they were in Dorne or that he feared that they would try to rise up in rebellion, for Doran was not as foolish as that, it was the fact that Ashara didn't want Elia to go, and their children had become attached to Aegon and Rhaenys. Aemon could let that slide, for nothing was as important to him as the happiness of his wife and children. He found that he loved Ashara more day by day, and their children just as much. It helped he supposed, that Elia had become a companion of his and Ashara's in bed quite recently. Sometimes, he found himself wondering how Rhaegar could have been such a fool as to run off with Lyanna Stark, a mere child when he had a beautiful and sophisticated woman for a wife. Then again, his cousin had never truly thought with his brain before doing any serious action.
He had spoken with Elia and his aunt Rhaella to try and figure out why Rhaegar had absconded with Lyanna Stark, an action that had ultimately led to the girl's death in childbed, and had found that his fool of a cousin had done it because of some prophecy he had read in a book somewhere in Summerhall. Some prophecy to do with three headed dragons and a song of ice and fire, it made no sense to Aemon, at least it hadn't until he had found the journal that his great grandfather King Brynden had written of dreams and visions and discussions he had had with Edwyle Stark, then he had sort of understood perhaps why Rhaegar had made the decisions he had made. He only wished his cousin had been more sensible about whom he had chosen, and not left Aerys in charge. Rhaegar always had been a bit of a dreamer, and it seemed his dreaming had been what got him killed in the end.
It seemed though as if what Aemon's great grandfather had thought to be true in the future might be coming to pass. Lord Rickard had written some days ago that Lord Commander Mormont of the Night's Watch was seeing increasing movement of wildlings towards the south of the wall, and that there were increasing numbers of raids happening. It might come to a point where the north would have to rally in full force and deal with the wildlings. Lord Commander Mormont had written of the pitiful state of the watch and the need for more men of suitable strength and skill, and Aemon had been happy to oblige. Second and third sons of those lords who had fought for the wrong side during the war had been sent north to man the wall alongside the usual filth from the dungeons, though the filth was lessening, for the Watch would need to be in full strength if it were to stand a chance against a proper wildling invasion.
Aemon quickly scanned the letters that were on the table in front of him, information about Varys that Pycelle had been kind enough to provide him with. The eunuch had become master of whispers during the regency of Aerys, and had provided some information for his uncle during the struggles and during the years that followed. The man was a useful tool to have his skills at finding information almost unmatched in the Seven Kingdoms, still there was something about him that was nagging away at Aemon, what it was he could not quite put a finger on, but there was something there. Varys had worked for a mummer's show in Lys or Tyrosh before trading in secrets in Pentos and other Essosi cities, with his friend and the sellsword Illyrio Mopatis. Mopatis was now a wealthy merchant in Pentos selling cheese and such, but had married a woman who some of these reports claimed was Varys' sister Serra. Whether this was true or not Aemon knew not, all he knew was that he could continue to keep an eye on Varys and if the man ever stopped being useful, he would die a painful death. Aemon had no use for blunt tools.
The doors to the small council chamber opened and in walked Lord Tywin Lannister and Ser Gerold Hightower, the Hand of the King and Lord Commander of the Kingsguard respectively. They were closely followed by Grand Maester Pycelle, Lord Garth Hightower and then finally, Victarion Greyjoy, Lord Damon Celtigar and then Varys. At seeing the eunuch Aemon slid the pieces of parchment that he had been reading into his sleeve, and then bid the members of the council to sit. Once they were all seated, he spoke. "My lords I thank you for coming, I know that the hour is late but there are issues that need to be discussed that were not conclusively discussed at the last meeting. One of these issues is the Arbor. Now Lord Tywin what news has come from there?"
Tywin Lannister was a serious man who rarely smiled, though Aemon had seen him smile often when his grandchildren were present. His voice was serious when he replied. "Lord Cuy has written once more saying that Mina Tyrell continues to cause problems for him and his and that she is trying to get her sister and mother to rally some of the reacherlords to seat her son Horas in the Arbor."
"Well she won't have much luck. Janna knows where I stand on this matter, and her mother might be a harridan but she is not a fool. Mina Tyrell will get nowhere Your Grace." Garth said.
"Who else does Cuy say Mina Tyrell has written to Tywin?" Aemon asked.
"The High Septon Your Grace. She begs his holy favour in this matter." Tywin replied.
"Well it is a good thing then that the High Septon knows where his bread is buttered." Varys tittered.
Aemon ignored the eunuch and then said. "Pycelle, write to Lady Mina and remind her that because of her husband's treason House Redwyne were attainted and stripped of their rights to the Arbor and its incomes. Her son will never inherit the Arbor. Has the woman married since her husband's death?"
Varys spoke then his voice flowery as it usually was. "She has not Your Grace. She claims she will not wed, not until her son is given his rightful inheritance."
"Or until her mother can find her someone who will take up a washed up woman who was wed to a traitor."Tywin replied coldly.
"Pycelle include in that letter, that unless she weds within two moons her son will be joining her nephews in King's Landing. And when he reaches maturity will join the Night's Watch. That should get her off and out." Aemon said. Once Pycelle had written that down, he turned his attention to the next pressing matter. "Now, when last we met I was informed of my uncle Balon Greyjoy building war fleets. Has the man responded as to why he was doing this?"
Aemon looked at Varys expectantly but before the eunuch could respond Tywin spoke his voice betraying the anger that he felt. "He has Your Grace. But with action not words. My son Jaime wrote to say that the Iron Fleet raided Lannisport and burnt our fleet. They also took my granddaughter Cerenna a hostage."
Aemon felt the rage and anger begin to build up inside of him then. "When did this happen Tywin?"
His friend and hand was silent for a long time before he replied. "Two weeks ago. Jaime has not been able to find any trace of where they might have taken Cerenna or why they might have done what they have."
It was his uncle Victarion who gave them the answer. "Because Balon must have declared himself King of the Iron Islands. When we were children growing up, Balon often spoke of his desire to return the Ironborn to the old way when he came into his lordship. And now he has finally acted on this desire."
Aemon's anger was truly at its peak now, his left eye was beginning to pain. "Well he has crossed the line. He did not help during the war, and he got away lightly. Now he has dared to break the peace. Varys please tell me your birds know what he plans to do next."
"They do Your Grace. In fact one of the birds who whispers in the man's ear, reports that Greyjoy plans on sending his son Rodrik to invade Seagard and settle an old rivalry the Ironborn have with the Mallisters from the Age of Heroes. He is sending his brother Euron to try and go raiding along the Westerlands as well; in fact the Iron Fleet might have already begun this mission." Varys replied.
Aemon was beginning to feel the pain in his eye all the more clearly now. It was through gritted teeth that he gave his response. "Pycelle, write to Lords Stark and Tully. Tell them that their banners are needed, Stark will take ships from Sea Dragon Point I presume, and Tully needs send men to Seagard. Victarion you shall lead the Royal Fleet down the straits and through to the Sunset Sea, and along with Lord Cuy and his war galleys do battle to the Iron Fleet. Burn the ships and kill those you fight. I want a way onto Pyke. Tywin return home and call your banners. We shall give my uncle the war he wants, and he will die."
"What will you do Your Grace?" Varys asked.
Aemon turned to look at him then and said in a voice laced with anger. "I will lead the assault on Pyke, and I will slice my uncle's traitorous head off and mount it on a spike outside King's Landing. Pyke will fall and with it my uncle and his family."