Baelon I 90AC
"Little sister," Baelon called down to the small form of his mother's youngest child. Her bright blue dragon was larger than he expected her to be, yet Tessarion somehow managed to share her rider's delicate grace.
"Little sister?" Gael raised a silver blond eyebrow. "I don't think I've ever had a private conversation with you in my life yet here you are, above King's Landing, with Vhagar if I might add, calling me little sister." Tessarion snorted a puff of cobalt blue smoke. "What do you want, brother?"
"Well somebody's in a rather prickly mood this morning, eh?" Baelon let out a laugh.
His sister did not appear to enjoy his amusement. "Did mother dearest send you to check on me?"
"I am not, in fact, here to check on you," Baelon ground his teeth at Gael's brief surprised expression. "In case you haven't noticed, the world doesn't revolve around you and your whims, Gael. Vhagar needed to stretch her wings."
Gael's eyes widened. Her mouth slowly began to twitch until she burst out into girlish laughter.
"What's so hilarious?" Baelon demanded. "Gael," he glanced over her shaking form. "Are you alright?"
"I'm fine Baelon," Gael calmly stated, adjusting herself in Tessarion's saddle. "I merely found it amusing that a grown man such as yourself came to the conclusion that a woman could possibly be stupid enough to believe that this world of men would give a damn about her whims, much less revolve around them."
"Oh please, sister. The realm certainly gives a damn about women. Look at our mother!" Baelon internally rolled his eyes. And even if the Queen was absent from the Tower of the Hand today, his father usually allowed his wife to sit on the Small Council for the Seven's sake
"The realm cares for our mother?" Gael laughed. "If tonight at sunset our beloved father decided that he wanted our mother's head, she'd lose it hours before dawn."
"How can you possibly think such a barbaric act about our father, our blood?" Baelon raged as Vhagar snapped her teeth in Tessarion's direction.
"Calm your dragon down!" Gael pulled on her reins, steering the Blue Queen further away from Baelon's mount.
He glared, but adjusted Vhagar nonetheless.
"It's called an example, Baelon, really. Maegor executed queens and slaughtered princes, just because father isn't known as the Cruel doesn't mean he lacks the power to do the same." Gael tightened her grip on Tessarion's reins to the point that her knuckles turned white. "Now unless you wish to continue on with our rather lousy small talk, I would like to head back to the Red Keep. I promised Rhaenys that we would have tea."
"I'm not here for Vhagar to stretch her wings." Baelon admitted. "I'm here to speak to you." Gael turned sharply, her hair flipping into her face.
"What?"
"The Small Council meeting today," Baelon gazed down at King's Landing miles below. He cursed under his breath and forced himself to meet his sister's eyes. "Our father is arranging your betrothal."
Gael's purple eyes hardened, cooling into icy lilac balls of hatred. "Who?" Her voice was deadly purr, but Gael's typically schooled features failed to conceal the trembling lip of a worried girl in the face of a possible unwanted marriage. Baelon sighed. Gael's marriage, should Jaehaerys' arrangement come to pass, would be anything but wanted.
"Theomore Manderly. Apparently the old Lord of White Harbor is angry that the King failed to deliver his promised princess. And with Viserra dead, father is offering you in her place." Baelon didn't even bother to try to look in Gael's direction. "I thought you would like to know."