Little Old Me // Aegon & Aemond Targ

XI

☆ CHAPTER ELEVEN ☆

{ people turn their heads, and quickly look away }

The Small Council gathered in their chamber, awaiting Valyria. But she was uncommonly absent, and after some time, the Grand MAester cleared his throat, drawing their eyes.

"The Queen requested a tea earlier, Your Grace. I believe she is slightly ill. Perhaps you should hold council." Aegon, who was standing and looking out the window, frowned and turned.

"What matter of illness?" The Grand Maester was lost for words, and simply stayed silent for a few moments, before lamely speaking. "I do not know, Your Grace. After some...examination, I do believe she will be healthy on the morrow."

Aegon thought for a moment, then nodded. "Alright. Inform me of our happenings."

Lord Jasper cleared his throat. "Well, we still hold Harrenhall, and Lord Simon has just met with Lord Grover Tully's heir. We are working on amassing a host to come forth from the Riverlands." Aegon nodded, and he looked at the map, studying it carefully.

Valyria had told him of her, Cole's, and Aemond's plan, but he still felt like he could contribute. What if Daemon were to take Caraxes and storm Harrenhal? If Cole and the Hightowers were there, then they would have a fighting chance against the dragon, and against The Rogue Prince.

"We should send Ser Criston to Harrenhal, to hasten the process. With him there, our host will be raised in—"

"Harrenhal must wait," Aemond interrupted. Aegon blinked, then turned to look at his younger brother, who sat comfortably at the foot of the table.

"Ser Criston is marching on Rook's Rest." Aegon worked the muscle in his jaw. "Yes, but if we—"

"The castle is small—" He stood up, and went to the map, "—weakly defended, and Lord Staunton sits on Rhaenyra's council." He rearranged the pegs on the board, as the other council members watched him with mixed feelings.

In all propriety, Aemond's only role was brother to the king consort, and queen. By all technicalities, he should not be interrupting the king, and especially not overruling him.

"After Cole smashes it, we'll have Dragonstone effectively cut off by land. This war will not be won with dragons alone, but with dragons flying behind armies of men." At this point, Aegon was beginning to get frustrated.

"No! Have him turn about." He stood beside Aemond and tapped on the board, before moving a peg. "I want Harrenhal back."

Aemond went back to his seat and settled as he spoke. "Cole is already preparing his attack," he stated cooly.

Aegon still stood and felt confused. "Have you told this to Her Grace? What does she make of it?" Aemond arched a brow because he knew as well as Aegon that Valyria was very well informed of the plan. She had played an important part in organizing it. But the purpose of Aegon's questioning wasn't to actually know that; he wanted to call Aemond out in front of the council.

Aemond had disrespected him. And as King Consort, he outranked the one-eyed prince.

"She has confirmed our plans."

Aegon frowned, then moved to stand behind Valyria's chair, resting his elbows on it.

"With you?"

The council members shifted uncomfortably, while they eyed the prince. He was definitely overstepping, and he should practice caution.

"The two of you have been...planning, without me?"

Aemond sighed, before leaning on the table and speaking in High Valyrian, a language that only the two Targaryens understood.