Not All Men Dance With Dragons

Do You Wish To Be King?

Things did not change often in King's Landing. Maerys did not expect anything different when he flew off for a few weeks to end some rabble-rousing for the king but he always doubted just how much changed when a royal birth was on the morrow. There were leagues more lords and ladies, and small armies worth of landed knights, and they filled the city and castle to the brim. As if the stinking, overpopulated mess needed more mouths to feed.

But it was a celebration. They were meant to be happy during these times even if Maerys felt suspiciously like a child in trouble when he was summoned to the council chambers by his brother.

His brother, the king, not the other brother that had Maerys' step almost faltering when he noticed him sitting just to Viserys' left. Daemon was still in the gold-cloaked armor of the City Watch even though it and he were streaked with blood and dirt. No doubt the remnants of the mass brutalization that he had carried out throughout the night before and into the morning.

Daemon offered a thin-lipped smile. "And look what's washed in. Are you the one everyone is calling the 'Beast of the Bay' or is that your pet?"

"That would be Ser Jorran." Maerys answered honestly as he came to a stop to Viserys' right, behind and beside Lord Otto Hightower's scowling self. He chose to ignore the jab of calling anyone Maerys' pet. "He killed thirty Ironborn men by himself who were holding prisoners before we arrived on land to help."

For all his sledgehammer-like tact and general dismissiveness, Daemon actually raised his brows with a nod. It was the most subtle way of showing he was even kind of impressed by this news.

Viserys explained. "I asked him here, Daemon. We had things to discuss in relation to the tourney."

A tourney that was being held for the birth of Viserys' son, Maerys had been informed of by Nyla. Apparently, due to the victory at the Boil of Ironman's Bay, his brother wanted to tack on a celebration of the fighting's end.

"Is that right?" Daemon replied and locked onto Maerys like a vice. The taller man braced himself for the next question. "How is that wife of yours, Maerys?"

Suspicion had Maerys narrowing his eyes across the table at his brother. Rarely did he ask such harmless questions. Rarer still did he care enough to ask about the wellbeing of others. Feeling tired of being in the same room as him already, the youngest replied simply. "Fine."

"Good. Good... and Lady Nyla? How is she?"

It took a whole second for Maerys' mind to catch up with what that implied and his face steeled immediately. Viserys beat him to the punch, however, when he sharply whispered. "Daemon."

"Cease the scolding." Daemon cut in before their older brother could even begin. He leaned back in his chair. "I am certainly the last to judge a man on his proclivities."

"I'm just surprised you even remembered her name." Maerys sneered back. Considering Daemon hadn't been present at his wedding and could honestly care less about anyone Maerys cared about.

"I'd remember that ass anywhere."

Everyone around the table seemed to go as silent as the dead. They were listening before but now they were being flat-out nosy in a way that made Maerys' blood boil even worse.

"Hm. You can be distasteful all you want," Maerys' eyes darkened with barely restrained rage. "But speak disrespectfully of my wife again and those gold cloaks are going to find themselves lacking another commander."

Daemon's face remained unchanged, scarcely even blinking. He wanted to get a rise out of his brother in any way he could and he was getting it. "Shrouded threats don't suit you, Maerys."