"None of us were worthy successors. So why bother being an inferior version of your father? Be your own man."
My brother showing up in armor and with an armed escort was… not optimal. But I could work with it. Mayhaps he had been nervous journeying across the city? Or he wanted some distance between himself and the common masses?
No, that was almost as bad, but in the long term. Which made it acceptable for now.
"It is indeed past time," I agreed, not moving from my spot at the table. Already, the relief of Maegelle joining the select committee for the prevention of this already colossal mess spiraling further out of control was fading. At my side, I could see Braxton shift nervously, while Martyn and Desmond were unable to even do that much. Only Corlys seemed at ease, which I attributed to him being ten years older than I. "So let us talk."
Aemon paused mid-stride at my words. He was unhelmed, and for that, I was grateful, because it let me fully behold his expression of pure stupefaction. No doubt he had expected something else, expected me to respond like a cornered animal. But truth be told, I could work with this situation.
For now.
Success was still possible, but it would be difficult. Unless Aemon was feeling undiplomatic. In that case, things would get difficult.
"You and your conspirators have your backs to the wall, and suddenly you want to talk?"
Then again, expecting Aemon to be diplomatic really was expecting a bit much from the man who accused me of treason in front of the Small Council. After failing to convince them that I had committed treason.
Because my brother was a fool of the highest order.
"I always wanted to talk, Aemon," I said gently. I resisted the urge to shoot a glance at Corlys to keep his mouth shut. His quip about gambling on my brother being a reasonable man had been a bit too on the nose, but he thankfully had enough self-control not to comment on it. Thankfully, Martyn managed to control his mischief, too. "But you will understand if I did not feel safe in the Red Keep."
"So you hid here?"
"It scarcely counts as hiding if it is where I have been carrying out my official duties as Hand of the King for weeks on end. Successfully, mind you; I will be presenting the plans for Bloodstone before the moon turns, I assure you. That island will the envy of the realm. I have already arranged for settlers and have recalled my soldiers."
"And Lord Velaryon and Ser Braxton?" he asked. "Sers Mooton and Darry? What of them?"
"We have been assisting our friend, Your Grace," Corlys responded. "He needed our help."
"Is that what you call it?" Aemon rounded on the Master of Ships. "Helping your friend? Without informing the regent of your absence? Without so much as letting it be known where you might be found?"
"A friend is a friend, Your Grace," Desmond said. "And Vaegon needed our help. What kind of man abandons a friend in need?"
"He might not be my brother," Martyn joined in. "But we would sooner find ourselves alone and destitute in Dorne than abandon him."
"Then you were aware of what was happening?" Aemon asked, and I felt a shiver of fear run down my back. Something about his tone, something about the implication of that question seemed like it was a setup for something else.
"It was hardly planned, Aemon." Blessedly, Maegelle seemed to come to the same realization as I did. "Our brother asked his friends for help, as any man would in a difficult situation."
"Maegelle, our brother has been missing for three days," Aemon responded. "The Master of Ships and the Master of Laws disappeared with him, as did the commander of the City Watch of King's Landing. Not to mention a captain of that same watch as well. All of whom are my subordinates, disappearing without a word. What do you expect me to think?"
"I expect you thought I was planning treason," I said bluntly. "You had already accused me of it, groundlessly I might add. What was to stop me from going through with it afterward, beyond a general aversion to having any real political power that was apparent from the moment you offered me the position of Hand of the King?"
"Which is why I did not come alone," Aemon said, gesturing to the armed escort behind him. Fully armed and armored, it looked like he had taken a sizeable force of knights and sworn swords, to a one clad in plate and armed with a motley assortment of weapons. Best not to antagonize my brother too much. Well, another reason not to antagonize him too much, right behind trying to prevent a fratricidal power struggle.
"After three days," I commented. "Come on, Aemon. You could not convince me to take power without Maegelle's influence. Why would I do so now?"
"You disappeared without a word!" Aemon all but shouted. "I was unable to find you or half of my council! What did you expect me to think? Especially when I try to ask some of your other friends, and find that the commander of the city watch has also disappeared?"
"I have been in the same place I have been carrying out my duties for the past weeks," I pointed out. "It is not my fault that you have not set foot outside the Red Keep except to go to the Dragonpit and to leave the city."
"My concerns are greater than one city," he ground out. "I am to be the king of the Seven Kingdoms. My focus must be broad in scale."
"And lord of the Andals, the Rhoynar, and the First Men," I added with a sigh. Even if the first of those styles was pure vanity, it did not diminish one simple fact: he ruled over people, not kingdoms. Individuals, not institutions. Unfortunately, it seemed he disagreed on what was important. "Let's not miss the forest for the trees."
"Vaegon…" Maegelle spoke softly, having moved into position directly next to me, squeezing in next to Corlys. The warning was clear, and I took the hint. Of course, her glare helped convey the message.
"Right, of course, we are here to prevent problems, not exacerbate them, how foolish of me," I said with a sardonic smile and a glance at the armored knights that were probably not my friends or beneficiaries. "Join us, Aemon. There is no need for this to end in violence."
"Indeed not," Aemon allowed after a moment of thought, his eyes flitting between the six of us in front of him. "What do you have in mind?"
"You give your blessing for my work after the fact," I said simply, looking to my friends for support. Braxton gave a nod of assent while the others had their gazes flickering between the armed guards and Aemon. "The people of the city benefit, you make your displeasure known, and nobody gets hurt. Everybody wins."
"… what?" Aemon looked confused for a brief moment. "Are- are you suggesting we sweep this matter under the proverbial rug?"
"Why not?" I asked.
"You have untold sums of coin, own large swathes of the city, are operating your own bank, have never paid taxes, and are minting your own coin," he listed off the offenses, blessedly ignoring the embezzling. Then again, that was just shrewd business. "Then you run off with half the small council and my own appointed commander of the city watch and his second. And you want me to just ignore it?"
"To be fair, Father almost certainly knew about my activities," I said. "I thought he would have informed you of them."
"He knew of the inns since Duskendale," Maegelle added. When our oldest brother's features betrayed his confusion, she continued patiently. "The tourney Vaegon won when he was four and ten. Father was curious as to how Vaegon afforded the cost of armor and had questions. No doubt he would have kept a closer eye on things."
Aemon was silent.
"The rest of us were brought in a few years later," Martyn broke his own silence. "When it became clear Vaegon would not be getting rid of us so easily."
"And so we could help the city," Desmond added. "Less crime, fewer arrests, less danger to the people of the city and the men of the watch. It is impossible to list who has not benefitted."
"You knew," Aemon whispered. "You all knew. And now you're hiding behind Father? Using his shattered and broken mind as a defense against your crimes?"
"Did- did you never ask him before?" I ask. "No, forget that, did you never even ask Mother about this whole mess? If Father knew, Mother most certainly would have been told, if she had not found out for herself. For three days you have been looking for me, and you never once visited her? Never once asked her? Never asked the Kingsguard or the other knights who escorted me into the city?"
The silence in the room spoke volumes my brother refused to. He stared at the ground, at the black and blue mosaic of dancing dragons that dominated the floor.
"Seven save us, this is the training yard all over again," I muttered, despair creeping into my voice. Thinking he knew better than everybody else, refusing to check with others, with no thought spared for the consequences? It had been five years- no, more than five years had passed since that colossal mess. Had he learned nothing?
This was to be our king? This was the future of the realm?
"No, this is markedly better," Braxton said, having been present for that scuffle. "You two are still talking, after all."
"Which goes to show how far you have come- both of you," Maegelle said, her tone as motherly and calm as could be. "That was five years in the past. Neither of you is the person you once were."
Aemon still did not respond.
"Your Grace?" A new voice intruded. Glancing towards the entrance, I saw a man dressed like an officer of the city watch. High ranking, clearly wealthy, clad in plate and carrying sword and shield. "The men are in position."
"Ser Petrel?" Desmond asked, vindicating my earlier assumption. "Shouldn't you be directing patrols around the harbor?"
Wait, Desmond was the commander of the city watch. I knew he had let it be known where he could be found, had received and sent out messengers from this manse. He had his entire week from here. Why wouldn't he know what was happening?
There was an easy conclusion to draw, and I did not like it.
"I did say it was a gamble," Corlys muttered, taking a small step from the table. Around us, our fellows were getting similarly nervous, shifting in their position as we realized that none of us were armed. Or armored. "It might be time to make an exit."
But I was not going to leap to conclusions.
"Why are there men of the city watch in position, Aemon?" I asked my brother in a tone that I dearly hoped was calm. "As far as escorts go, these men of yours should be more than enough. Besides, the people of the city wouldn't hurt me or anybody with me."
"That arrogance of yours is quite something, Vaegon," Aemon said at last. "Still believing that your ideas will always work, that nothing can wound you, that you can dictate your own punishments… Ser Petrel, bring in the men."
Or mayhaps it was not a leap so much as a leisurely step.
"We can still walk away from this, brother," I said, but he did not respond as at least two dozen men filed into the large chamber. They were not armed or armored nearly as nicely as my brother's guards, but far more uniform. Mail, large shields, skullcaps, and iron-capped cudgels. This was the uniform of the city watch, established through the same network of smiths and armorers I had used to supply my troops. Colors were secondary beyond the Targaryen sigil painted upon the shield.
"Aemon, what is the meaning of this?" Maegelle asked with a tone I had not heard from her since Aerion had let a hatchling dragon into the kitchens. And promptly started a fire.
"I suspect we are past talking," Corlys mentioned. "And walking, for that matter."
"Which leaves running," Martyn said with a sigh. "Though I do not fancy my chances of getting through that many men."
"I am only here for Vaegon," Aemon said as two dozen men of the watch became three dozen, more than enough to surround us. "Clearly, he was the one to draw you into this mess. The rest of you are free to leave."
"So you can throw him into the black cells before shipping him off to the Wall? Not a chance." Braxton did not mince words.
"Hell no." Desmond was even less polite.
But I did not quite despair. After all, the men of the city watch who surrounded us were men of the city. Serjeants and ordinary guards all, with the only captain being Ser Petrel. In other words, men of the city.
"I am still your superior, as both Master of Laws and Prince-Regent," Aemon reminded my friend. "If you wish to keep your post, I suggest you choose your words more carefully."
And I recognized most of these men.
By name, even. I was, after all, a prince of the people. The higher-ranking men of the watch I knew from business and their search for more coin, the lower-ranking men of the watch I knew as fellow men of the realm. My brother might have brought these men in as backup, and that had been his second great mistake.
The first had been coming here.
...
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