When the summons from his royal grandfather arrived, it was the first time Aegon could ever recall being weary of seeing Ser Clement Crabb. He took a last sip of his wine, threw some coppers onto the table, ignored the way his drinking companions and the rest of the tavern had fallen silent, tied his cloak around his shoulders, and followed the knight of the Kingsguard outside to where the horses were tied up. Throughout their ride back to the Red Keep, he tried to think of any reason for why the king would summon him. Had he done anything? Nothing immediately leapt to mind, and the more he thought about it, the less sure he was that he had done anything wrong at all. Perhaps when the king was done with him he should go and see if that merchant's twin daughters were back in the city.

But all thoughts of rolling around in bed with a pair of rich girls went straight out the window when he entered the king's solar to find Gaemon, Valerion, and the recently arrived Archmaester Vaegon gathered about the king. The newly made Hand of the King was lost in his thoughts, Valerion only offered the smallest of shrugs, and Vaegon looked calmly serene. "I was summoned?" Aegon asked.

The Archmaester gestured to the last remaining empty chair. "Your opinion is required on the matter of the succession," he said. "One that I myself thought was unneeded, seeing as how you are the son of Baelon."

Aegon made a face at that, but he managed to not roll his eyes and instead shifted in his seat until he was somewhat comfortable. "What does that have to do with the succession?"

"There isn't a clear heir," Valerion said, sounding as bored as ever. "And if you haven't already heard, there are armies that are being raised in support of both Viserys and Laenor Velaryon, with Daemon being rather vocal in his support of Viserys, while the Sea Snake is stirring up trouble from Driftmark."

"Those are only rumors," Gaemon said. The necklace of golden hands around his neck looked like it was always meant to be there. "But yes, the situation is growing worse by the day. Civil war, especially one between dragon riders, is the last thing we want. Which is why it's been agreed that a Great Council should be called so that the matter of the succession can be settled once and for all. But we've called you here to have your opinion on the matter, because having a son of Baelon agreeing with us will add all the more weight to this decision."

From the look in Gaemon's purple eyes, Aegon knew that this was one of the matters that they had discussed and agreed on beforehand, and that they were now simply going through the motions for Vaegon and the king. Previous events had more or less aligned with what they knew would happen up until this moment. Barring a few massive exceptions.

"I agree with whatever Gaemon decides is best for us," Aegon said, favoring them all with a shrug with his hands. "He has my complete trust."

"Then we are agreed," the king said. "A Great Council will decide the succession."

An air of finality surrounded those words, but more words followed, details that were elaborated upon, plans set for just where to have this Great Council, and who should be invited, and even more so of who should have a vote. Aegon eyed Gaemon and Valerion in turn, after the talking had run on rather long and all the details were set in stone, and both of them eyed him back. Between the three of them, an unspoken agreement was made, and after some parting words were said to the Archmaester and the king, the three of them took their leave. Aegon left first, rising from his seat and walking with the gait of someone not so mature as to be called a man. He didn't look over his shoulder as Valerion left next, the youngest son of Jaehaerys and Alysanne, known to be apathetic, who felt more like a ghost wandering the Red Keep's halls than anything else.

The two of them waited for their third member by the base of the Tower of the Hand, and it was some time before Gaemon finally appeared. The Hand of the King was being attended by a number of stewards and scribes, and Aegon stood well out of their way as they started up the stairs. Gaemon, diligent and attentive Gaemon, was the man with the plan, and now it was being put to the test. After them went Valerion, and Aegon followed a couple paces behind his youngest uncle.

And seeing that Gaemon would be rather occupied for the moment, and that Valerion was rarely anything more than boringly indifferent at any given time, Aegon decided to stop by and see how his favorite aunt was handling the mess that was their current situation.

He found her looking utterly bored with herself, lounging on a couch, and when she saw him upon his knocking on the doorframe, the book in her hand was tossed aside like it had never really mattered.

"Aegon," she greeted, a vulpine smile pulling at her lips. Viserra Targaryen had a peerless beauty that even other Targaryens could not compare to. One that was retained as she aged, and one that Aegon would have freely admitted to jumping on at first chance if given the opportunity, but even beyond her being married to Gaemon, she was also his aunt, and if there was ever a line that Aegon did not cross, it was at incest. He remembered enough about genetics to know that Targaryen incest was a ticking time bomb waiting to explode.

But flirting with her wasn't nearly as bad as fucking her.

"Viserra," Aegon said as he fell into the couch opposite her. "Looking as beautiful as ever. You simply must tell me what you use to wash your hair. I can never get mine to look as luscious."

"If you ever decide to grow your own out, I might be willing to share that little morsel of information. But there is something nice about how your peach fuzz feels."

"Oh?" He touched the back of his head just to get a feel for himself. High and tight was the way he kept his hair; he found longer locks to just get in the way during a time period when showers hadn't yet been invented. And the peach fuzz like quality did feel nice. "If I grew it out, I wouldn't be as unique anymore. Just another silver head in the pile we call family."

"Yes. That would be unfortunate," Viserra said, smiling. "And I do very much like you with your short hair. Like this, you look just like your father." The smile turned into something decidedly wanting, and the look she gave him was as pregnant as it was revolting.

"And speaking of my dead father," Aegon said. "The king has decided that a Great Council will be called to deal with the succession. Seems like the only way to choose between Viserys and Laenor without causing a civil war."

Viserra rolled her eyes. "My father has simply grown too weak to bring the full weight of the Iron Throne down on the Velaryons. Overreaching graspers, the lot of them."

"I wouldn't know anything about that," Aegon admitted. "But what I do know is that we are all being invited to Harrenhal for the council. And we all have free will to vote for whoever we think should be the next king."

"So sure that its going to be a king?"

"Do you want Rhaenys to be queen?"

She snorted at that, and Aegon thought she almost looked unattractive whilst doing so. "I like my idiot nephew infinitely more than my bitch niece and her watered-down whelps."

"That idiot nephew is my brother," Aegon said, feeling the need to defend Viserys. "And when he does become king, I'm sure he won't be making any stupid decisions with Gaemon as his Hand."

"I'm of a mind to almost believe that." This time her smile was all canines. "Mayhaps you can use that mouth of yours a little better to convince me."

Oh, good god. "I'm not so much of an idiot to fall for that."

"You're not?" Her eyes left his face and raked down his body. Aegon felt like he was being mentally undressed and fought the urge to cover himself up. "Don't you know that all men think with their cocks? It's a singular trait that never fails to present itself."

"Tell that to Daemon. His one job is to get Rhea Royce with child, and he's so far failing spectacularly at that."

"He's not the only Targaryen prince failing at that task."

"Gaemon not thinking with his cock either? My oh my, seems that for all of your beauty, my dear aunt, you can't seem to get any man to fuck you."

She narrowed her eyes at him. "We can solve that right now."

He narrowed his eyes at her. "We can. But wouldn't that be rather pathetic of you? Begging me for some Targaryen cock?"

"You don't have a dragon. You're basically a woman."

"If I'm a woman, what does that make you?"

The clearing of a throat cut through whatever Viserra was going to say, and Aegon looked over his shoulder to follow her gaze and found Gaemon standing in the doorway with his arms crossed. "Aegon, my solar." Aegon did as he was bid, ignored the hungry look in his aunt's eyes, and headed straight up the stairs, but just before he was out of earshot, he heard Gaemon go, "And Viserra? We will be having words tonight."

Aegon waited innocently with Valerion in the Hand's solar until Gaemon closed the door behind him, and then to his uncle he said, "By 'having words tonight' I assume you mean to put a baby in her this time."

Valerion inhaled some of the wine he had been drinking and coughed like a dying man as Gaemon settled into his seat behind his desk. The Hand of the King ignored his choking brother and gave Aegon a look that was akin to fatherly disappointment. "The business of my bedchamber is none of your concern," he said. "And stop antagonizing Viserra. She's already enough of a headache as is."

"She'd be more bearable if you actually gave her something to do, like taking care of a kid," Aegon said, leaning back in his seat and resting his heels on the edge of Gaemon's desk. "I mean, even grumpy over here has Gael distracted by a never-ending supply of puppies."

"It was the least I could do," Valerion said.

Gaemon frowned. "I didn't factor two more daughters of Jaehaerys Targaryen surviving up until now when I made our initial plans. So, pardon me, but things are already complicated enough without adding more variables to the equation."

"Man," said Aegon. "Shit hit the fan the moment we realized all three of us had in fact been reborn into this world with the memories of our previous life. We were never going to be able to keep to canon in the first place anyway."

"That doesn't mean we just give up on it," Gaemon countered. "The closer we stick to it, the more useful our memories of it are. That means we get through this Great Council and make sure that Viserys ends up with the most votes."

"You honestly think the lords of the realm will vote for anyone else?"

"No, but it never hurts to be sure."

"You're going to die of a stroke before hitting forty if you keep stressing like this."

"Beside the point," Gaemon said, waving his hand. "We have a limited amount of time to consolidate our position before Viserys becomes king. Aegon, that means you will have to become a dragonrider, and preferably by taking Vhagar." He ignored Aegon's sputtering and went right on with talking. "I already have Caraxes, and Valerion has Dreamfyre. With Vhagar that makes three, and if Viserra is agreeable, she will take Silverwing or Vermithor."

"You just lost me," Aegon said. "Never mind the fact that you want me to risk my life by going out and trying to claim Vhagar, you want to give Viserra a dragon? The same Viserra who is the walking definition of vainglorious? She'll be completely insufferable if you let her have a dragon."

"I do realize it's a gamble," Gaemon snapped. "But if I mean to be the power behind the Iron Throne for Viserys, I need Viserra to stay in line, and if that means having a dragon to ride and a baby in her belly, then those are two sacrifices I am willing to make in the name of preventing the Dance from ever having a chance of starting."

Those words settled around them in silence. Aegon looked over at Valerion, saw the surprise in his uncle's face, and realized that this had not in fact been previously discussed. He took the glass of wine from Valerion's hand and finished it himself. Fortified, he cleared his throat and took his feet from Gaemon's desk and planted them back on the ground.

"Gentlemen," Aegon said. "I would say Godspeed to the three of us, but I think God stopped caring a long time ago."

Valerion made a noise of agreement.

"Whether or not he's with us doesn't matter," Gaemon said. "We've got work to do."