Gael III 92 AC
If Gael could have somehow traveled back in history, she would have smacked Aegon the Conqueror upside the head for creating a city as poorly planned as King's Landing. It may have had its pleasantries here and there, but the capital of the Seven Kingdoms was an eyesore that smelled foul and punished the smallfolk with hard lives that ended far too early.
But even as Gael stood with Vera in Idina's tavern, which was her favorite Flea Bottom tavern in terms of cleanliness by far, she struggled to ignore the stench. Gael slowly pushed through the crowd of drunken, dancing peasants that filled Idina's to reach the counter in the center.
"Hey," she snapped her fingers to get the attention of the large, portly man serving drinks. It took him a second to acknowledge Gael, his beady eyes narrowing at the sight of her small form.
"What's a little boy like you doing in a place like this, huh?" The man spat out. He scowled and Gael could see that he was missing his two front teeth.
"I'm here to buy a drink, same as all the others here," she replied, in her best imitation of lowborn speech. She looked up at him but he just gestured at her harshly to continue. "Oh, sorry, two ales, please."
The man nodded and turned to pour the drinks. Gael glanced over to Vera. "You did want one, didn't you?"
"My thanks," the handmaid gave Gael a cheeky smile and whispered, "Princess." Gael glared at the use of her title. Outside the walls of the Red Keep she was no longer Princess Gael of House Targaryen but simply Gaemon the orphaned boy.
"You know that you shouldn't call me that…" Gael began only to be cut off by the return of the bartender, holding two mugs of ale in his hands.
"You have any money, boy?" He raised a questioning eyebrow as he placed the drinks on the counter. "We don't take kindly to thieves here at Idina's."
Gael only smiled as she reached for her sack of coin in her cloak and put down a few coppers. "Only an idiot would steal from Idina," she said, handing Vera her mug whilst taking a sip of her own. "In fact, if you would be so kind as to inform your mistress that Gaemon is here to see her," she slowly slid a silver stag across the counter, "I would be much appreciative."
"You trying to bribe me?"
"A tip," Gael took another sip. "For excellent service and the best ale in Flea Bottom."
The bartender let out a huff but stuffed the coin in his pocket. "I'll fetch the woman."
"Are you going to really drink all of that?" Vera gestured to the ale once the bartender had left their presence.
"I'm not a child, Vera," Gael rolled her eyes.
"Well you're not a woman either," Vera remarked matter of factly. "And judging by the looks of you, even when you're grown you'll hardly be able to have two of those without beginning to slur your words."
"You're not my mother," Gael said coolly. She regretted it as soon as she saw the way Vera's face fell.
"I am not," Vera agreed. "I am your servant and I will always be such. I merely offer advice. Not only because I care for you, but because I respect you. Because you have done well by me as I have done for you."
The hardness of Vera's face, her stern expression, Gael noticed, was ruined by the softness in her warm brown eyes. Eyes that Gael sometimes believed had shown more love for her than half of her own family. She sighed, and poured half her ale into her handmaid's mug. "Happy?"
Vera laughed and tilted her head back to take a good swing. "Best not get me drunk before Idina comes."
Gael only smiled "I don't think I know what I'd do if you ever betrayed me," she paused in thought for a moment. "I would probably be very sad."
"You'd feed her to your dragon, Princess," a voice whispered behind her. Gael turned around to see Idina's wicked grin. "Come on upstairs, Gaemon," she spoke a little louder. "It's been too long."
As Gael and Vera followed Idina to the locked room adjacent to the main hall of the tavern, pushing their way through the masses of bodies in various stages of drunkenness, Gael couldn't help feel butterflies in her stomach.
The attic in Idina's tavern was unimpressive for a girl who had grown up in a palace. But the room was neatly furnished and the chairs comfortable as Vera and Gael sank into the cushions while Idina served them glasses of water before taking her own seat across from them.
Gael did not know whether she considered Idina to be beautiful. Several years older than Vera, Idina stood of average height with short black hair pulled back into a bun. One could argue that her nose was a bit too pointy and her eyebrows too thin. But she possessed a sharp tongue and a haughty personality unexpected for one so lowborn. Idina was as charming as she was annoying, her japes at times humorous, others cruel. No wonder Saera had called her a friend.
"I have much to discuss with you," Gael stated frankly. "But first, my sister sends her regards," she pulled out a scroll from her pocket, which Idina was quick to grab.
"The seal is broken," she said accusingly. Gael shrugged and Idina spent a minute scanning the letter over.
"She thanks me. For taking care of you, as she puts it," Idina laughed. "Tell me, Princess, you were four years old when the King banished Saera. I only met your sister Viserra once on the day she died, and she told me all about her sweet little sister Gael. And in all the time that I spent with Saera and her companions, she never once mentioned you… I find that very curious."
"Saera is more than a decade older than me which is why we were not close in childhood," Gael explained pointedly. "You were her friend. I understand that well enough. But do not presume to tell me the nature of my relationship with my sister. It is not your place."
Idina put her hands up in a comical show of innocence. "Alright, alright, no need to go all Targaryen, dragon lady on me, Princess."
"We cannot be here for much longer," Vera interrupted. "The princess and I must return to the Red Keep long before the castle wakes."
"Oh stop worrying Vera, dear," Idina chastised. "The little girl's far too smart to get caught if she can be writing to Saera for so long without the King noticing."
"Arrogance can be deadly, Idina," Vera glared at the tavern owner. "Which you should know all too well considering that the Princess' protection is the only thing that keeps your business from being caught by the City Watch." Vera gave Idina a few condescending tuts. "Afraid I don't know what the punishment is for running illegal gambling rings, but I doubt it would be anything pleasant."
"Vera…" Gael interrupted. "Enough." She glanced over to Idina, whose eyes were doing their best to squash any trace of fear. "She is right though, we must be going. Do you have them?"
Idina nodded and stood from her chair and retrieved a small wooden chest hidden carefully under the loose floorboard by the window. She held it carefully with both hands, placing it on the table by Gael and Vera before sitting down. Idina unlocked the chest with the key worn around her neck. It creaked as it opened.
"Here you are," she tossed Gael a sack that jingled when she caught it. "5 gold dragons and 50 silver stags. Oddly specific if you ask me," she japed.
Gael looked through the sack quickly in confirmation. "And…" she pressed Idina.
"A list of all the lords and landed knights witnessed gambling in my tavern," she handed the scroll to Gael. "I was feeling generous and also made note of all the lords seen in compromising positions with women clearly not their wives," Idina smirked at Gael.
"Thank you," Gael smiled. "Truly." She put the scroll in her pocket along with the sack of coin and rose to her feet, gesturing for Vera to do the same. Gael looked back at Idina. "The city watch is conducting an inspection the day after tomorrow. I'm afraid I do not know the exact time. The next one will not be another fortnight but I will inform you if I hear that anything has changed."
"You are most helpful, Princess," Idina bowed her head. "Give Saera my regards."
Vera was already halfway down the stairs when Gael turned. "Oh, and Idina, as always, if you ever…"
"Betray you, you'll feed me to your dragon," Idina finished for her. "No near to fret, my dear, I have no wish to become the Blue Queen's next meal."
Gael was too tired to think of a witty response.
"By the Seven, I hate that woman," Vera let out a huff of frustration as soon as they left Idina's tavern. "She is simply insufferable, how can you stand her presence?"
It was good to be outside, if only the fresh air actually smelled fresh. Gael and Vera walked quickly through Flea Bottom, careful to keep their heads down and their voices quiet.
"You serve the nobility though. Most of whom are incredibly insufferable," Gael pointed out. "How is she any different?"
"She is as lowborn as I am yet she has the arrogance of a high lord," Vera remarked. "And I don't serve the nobility, I serve you, and I frankly do not find you insufferable. Reckless, yes. But irritating, no."
They settled into silence as they walked back to the castle. Passing through the various shops and taverns and brothels. Some of which were closed and boarded up, others lively. Gael could feel fatigue setting in, the consequence of her choosing not to bring her trusty walking stick, and Vera, ever so kind, let her lean on her as they continued on.
It was only half way through the night when Gael and Vera finally reached the entrance to the secret passageway into the Red Keep. The one that led back to her chambers. "Thank the Gods for Maegor's paranoia," she whispered to herself under her breath.
The passageway was dark and cold and she was careful to be as quiet as possible. Her muscles ached and she let out a sigh of relief when Vera gently opened the secret door and held aside the tapestry covering it. Gael went to the nearest sofa and immediately collapsed.
"I don't want to move," she laughed lightly.
"You need to get changed, Princess," Vera said as she went into Gael's walk-in wardrobe to change. She soon returned wearing her handmaid uniform holding a nightgown for Gael.
"Visiting Idina makes me tired, I've realized," Gael unlaced her boots and pulled them off before taking the nightgown. "Speaking with her, dealing with her…" she added, stripping herself of her traveling boy's clothes before throwing the nightgown over her head. Gael retrieved her valuables from her coat pocket and handed the clothes to Vera who shoved them in a bag for cleaning.
"She's unpleasant," Vera scowled. "Useful, but unpleasant. Her tavern's nice though, as much as I hate to admit it."
"She's useful because I have information she wants. Information I get only because age has weakened my mother's eyes and now she has me read her letters to her. I don't know if the inspection dates have always been sent to the Queen. Who knows if tomorrow they'll start sending them to my brother Aemon, the Master of Laws?" Gael stood and walked to the other side of the room to place her coin and the papers from Idina into the hidden compartment in her dresser drawer. She picked up her hairbrush and returned to her seat, carefully undoing her braids.
"Why do you trust me so much?" Vera took the brush from Gael's hand and started running it through her silver blond waves.
The Princess looked up to meet Vera's gaze, her purples eyes and girlish face filled with warmth and trust. "You have cared for me since I was little, with nothing but patience, devotion and loyalty. So I trust you."
"This is King's Landing, Gael," Vera said, dropping her title. "I'm lowborn but I'm not blind to the games of power the highborn play."
"Rhaenys is gone and with her the only one I could confide in. I learned that one must have more than one person to trust and to lean on. I think you are smart enough to realize just how powerful the favor of a Targaryen is. And that the fall from our favor is often deadly."
"I wouldn't expect anything less of a Targaryen," she grinned as she quickly tied Gael's now detangled hair into a loose braid.
Vera helped Gael to her feet and towards her large four poster bed in the middle of the room. She was double checking to make sure that Gael's walking staff was in its correct place by her nightstand when Gael pulled back the quilt of her bed. A foul stench filled the air and Vera quickly turned to look over Gael's shoulder.
The mattress was covered in shit. A few flowers had been scattered on top of it which probably explained why neither Gael or Vera had noticed a smell when the bed was made.
"Who would have done such a thing?" Vera exclaimed. "To a Princess of the Iron Throne. Any maid would have been whipped for pulling such a stunt!"
"It was no maid," Gael seethed. "I know who did this," she looked up at Vera, her expression tight with fury. "And so do you."
Vera's blank eyes suddenly lit up as the culprit's identity dawned on her. But before the handmaid could even move, Gael had grabbed her walking staff and was rushing out the door, her heart pounding as her fury and rage took over.
She could hear Vera's footsteps behind her, she was not fool enough to call out for her and risk awakening the Royal Family, but Gael did not care. She reached the door to her imbecile of a nephew's room and pushed it open.
Daemon thankfully slept with a candle still lit on his dresser because in her haste Gael had forgotten that it was still the Hour of the Wolf and of course the room was going to be dark. His unconscious form is curled up around a pillow, which would have been adorable if she was not enraged. Before her mind or Vera could cool the fire that tempted her away from reason, Gael marched up to his bed, seized the collar of his night shirt and pulled him out of bed.
"Princess," Vera stood in the doorway, but looking down at the young Prince's limp form, his eyes blinking as he regained consciousness, she knew that she was too late.
In a rather surprising show of strength fueled by the power of her anger, Gael lifted Daemon to his feet and started dragging him out the door.
"Gael," Daemon yawned but made no effort to protest his treatment. "What are you doing?"
"You know what I'm doing!" Gael hissed in his face. "You know what you did!"
"I don't know, do you want to tell me what I did?"
"You put shit in my bed!" Gael nearly shrieked. She continued pulling her nephew down the hall until she reached her brother Baelon's room. Immediately she began knocking on his door. "Baelon!" she called. "Baelon!" She knocked her walking staff into the door. "I need you at once!"
"Princess," Gael turned to Vera. "Look at him."
Gael looked into Daemon's eyes. There was no fear, no bracing for whatever punishment his father would give him. This is what he wanted. She suddenly realized. And like an idiot I gave it to him. But it's too late now. Baelon is probably already awake. "Go home, Vera," she ordered. "There's no need for you to be involved in a family squabble." The handmaid gave her a questioning look, but then quickly departed the Royal Family's Wing.
"It wasn't me," Gael glared at Daemon's poor attempt to claim innocence.
"Shut up, we both know it was you!" Gael knocked on the door again. "Baelon! Come out here at once!" She knew that she was being unreasonable, that she was acting like a child, but she was a child and Daemon made her want to scream in frustration.
"What is it?" Baelon shouted, throwing open his door only to have his eyes fall upon his sister holding his younger son by the arm.
"Your son," Gael shouted, pointing harshly at Daemon, all attempts at decorum and propriety forgotten, "has filled my bed with shit. Actual shit! I cannot go to bed because your son," she shook Daemon as roughly as her skinning arms could, "will not stop being the most annoying little wretch!" Gael's emotions bubbled to the surface and before she could muster the will to hold them back tears filled with anger and with exhaustion leaked down her cheeks. Her legs were so tired from walking back from Idina's that she had to lean against the door.
"Don't cry Aunt Gael," Daemon told her, his face looking much sweeter in the absence of his devilish grin that she always wanted to smack off. "I didn't want to make you sad!" He tried to give her a hug but Gael held up her hand.
"You don't get to give me hugs when you put shit in my bed!"
Baelon was just about to respond when a booming voice cut through the stone walls of the Red Keep.
"What is the meaning of this!" Jaehaerys Targaryen roared, his presence somehow still kingly even when wearing a nightcap and big pink wooly socks.