Chapter Text
A week after our return, the rest of the royal party finally returned, riding through the Dragon Gate in a grand procession up to the Red Keep. Most of that week had been spent in the training yard with my father, getting put on my ass the entire time. I'd been immediately glomped by Rhaenyra upon her arrival, who explained – or at least tried to – how Viserys had taken care to stop at every major castle on the Kingsroad on his way back to King's Landing, doubling their travel time. Each one, though, had gone out of their way to outdo the previous home, so she'd eaten very well.
We, unfortunately, weren't together again for long, however, as father once again summoned me to be his cupbearer for a Small Council meeting. I was sure Otto hoped that, with Uncle Viserys back, he could keep a handle on Father. I chuckled to myself as I knew that wasn't true. Bidding Rhaenyra goodbye, I changed into a nice black doublet, and prepared for another session of listening to Otto and Father screaming.
The entire council swiftly assembled, with many more flagons of wine due to Uncle Viserys also requiring it. Thankfully, though, Uncle Viserys had his own cupbearer, a boy who I couldn't recall the name of. Once everyone was in attendance, Viserys gave Father a measured glare.
"Daemon, feet off the Small Council table, we are here to discuss business," the King commanded. Father rolled his eyes and took his feet off the table as Otto looked on with glee. To which, father gave him a rather obscene hand gesture – he totally flipped Otto the bird – before taking his cup of wine from me. Otto's facial expression didn't change in the slightest.
"Very well, Your Grace," Otto began, "Lord Rosby has given us many reports that the Commander of the City Watch is taking bribes in exchange for ignoring certain crimes taking place in the city, or to actively partake in crime. The Captains that aren't partaking in these crimes are unable to fight back. The Captain of the Lion Gate, a man I personally placed on the Gold Cloaks, was found dead before you arrived, Your Grace, we are currently searching for a proper man to replace him."
"Then sack the Commander, and put a proper one in his place. This doesn't seem difficult," Viserys said, putting his hand on the bridge of his nose. Otto grinned at that, seeing potential victory. I lightly tapped Father on the shoulder to get him to pay attention.
"See, Your Grace, I wish to, but your brother is actively refusing to sack him," he said. Father slammed a hand on the table; it was a bit over dramatized, of course, he'd seen this coming.
"It's not that simple, Ser Otto," Father growled. "I have had my people doing sweeps; none of the Captains that aren't overtly corrupt have the training or the equipment to act as Commander. They are an underequipped and understaffed mess, and anyone not corrupt we appoint will be found dead in the Blackwater before the moon's turn, just like Captain Jon, who you seem to have forgotten the name of." Otto glared back at Father. Oh boy, here we go again.
"Then fix it, Prince Daemon! That is your job. Except you won't, because you never do it!" Otto growled. Father stood up to respond, but before any words could come out, Viserys slammed a hand on the table.
"Enough, Ser Otto, Daemon!" he yelled. "Summon Commander Jasper, by your own hand, Ser Otto, so he doesn't suspect anything. Everyone except Daemon and my Hand, out! Cupbearers, stay!" I grinned as I heard the second part. I didn't want to miss this. While Uncle Viserys hated conflict, he really could throw the book at people when he wanted.
Some time later, Commander Jasper stepped into the room, decked out in his ceremonial armor that must have been very expensive to forge. The man didn't even try to hide how corrupt he was. Yet, everyone kept a good poker face as they looked at the man. I just wondered how screwed he was. Probably very, but I couldn't show anything.
"Commander Jasper, thank you for answering my summons," Viserys said, putting on a jovial grin. "I would like a report on what the Watch has been doing recently." Jasper nodded and began to give a report that I knew was bullshit after listening to Lord Rosby's words on it. Though, I said nothing as I served father more wine. When Viserys' cupbearer went to do the same, Viserys sighed.
"Symond," he said. Oh, so that was his name. "Just leave the flagon on the table. Luke enjoys these, I know you don't. Head home early." Symond nodded, relieved, and quickly placed the flagon on the table and rushed out of the room. I flinched as I heard my nickname, but made no mention of it. Commander Jasper looked completely oblivious to what was about to happen to him, though. I wondered how he got the job in the first place… oh right, because Ser Donnel lost his mind after getting bashed in the head during a tourney some years back. He'd finally died shortly before my father's appointment as Master of Laws.
After Commander Jasper finished his report, Viserys looked at the report he'd been given by Lord Rosby, and raised a hand. In moments, the doors were pulled open and men in Targaryen and Hightower livery marched in and surrounded the Commander.
"Ser Jasper of High Mountain, you have committed many crimes against the crown; smuggling, embezzlement, taking bribes, perversion of justice, and malfeasance of all kinds. You will confess the names of your conspirators; but if you confess now, leniency will be shown," Otto said. The moron just looked confused.
"What ever-" he began, but I just looked at him after handing father his next cup of wine.
"The Lord Hand means that you can either sing the names here, or sing them on the rack. Your choice, Ser~!" I said in a sing-songy voice, with the most innocent smile I could muster. Was it a bad sign I could happily tell someone he was about to be tortured? Yeah, probably. There wasn't much I could do about it, though. Westeros didn't exactly make for a good environment for getting rid of those kinds of tendencies.
The man spilled all of the names immediately. Father and Ser Otto were, for once, united in their feelings of satisfaction. I was significantly less satisfied because I was made to write down the names, getting looks of disgust by some for my left-handedness.
"Very well. As promised, you will be given leniency, assuming the information is correct," Viserys said, his gaze turning serious. "Take him to the Black Cells. If the information is correct, put him on the next ship to Eastwatch. If it's wrong, send him to the Lord Confessor." The guards hauled the protesting man off to the Black Cells, after ripping the badge of office from him. Viserys turned the badge in his hands, as he ordered one of the guards to get the rest of the Small Council back in there. Once everyone was assembled again, Viserys sighed deeply.
"It is obvious the City Watch is in bad shape," he said. "Daemon, your job as Master of Laws was to prevent this. And with your argumentative nature with regards to our Lord Hand, few things can ever get done here on the Small Council. Therefore, I see no choice but to relieve you of your post as Master of Laws," he said, as Otto's eyes lit up like stars, "and appoint you as Commander of the City Watch. You will clean this up personally," he finished. He concluded by taking the Master of Laws' badge of office from Father and granting him the new one, that of the Commander of the City Watch. "Your new position starts tomorrow. Ser Otto, gather me a list of potential candidates for Master of Laws, until then, you'll be handling those duties. Everyone else, dismissed!"
I followed Father from the room as we returned to his apartments, him ordering servants to bring us some lunch. We sat down at the table in his solar as servants began to bring us food.
"Tell me, Lucerys, does that dwarf have any additional info on the streets?" he asked. I rolled my eyes. Just because I paid the fool to tell me information didn't mean I was suddenly Varys. Despite what all those Self-Insert fanfics liked to claim, you couldn't just make a Spy Network before you were 10. It took far more work... in my case, I was just paying off Mushroom to tell me whatever he overheard; hardly a network. It wasn't exactly the most secure method, but it would do until my father got his spies everywhere. At least there weren't tongueless children in the walls yet, so I could talk straight enough with him.
"Nothing that Lord Rosby didn't say," I replied. "And the list that Ser Jasper said is correct." Father nodded as the meal continued.
"You'll do good," I said, smiling. "I dreamt it, the watchmen will follow you to the end of your days." That seemed to nurse his pride as he took a drink of wine. Of course, I didn't dream a thing for the past week. Not that it was a bad thing, the dreams gave me headaches and heartburn on the better days. After lunch, I went to the godswood to relax. I rarely prayed anymore, not much point, but it was a quiet area, where I could collect my thoughts before the days went on. When my time in the godswood was done, I wrote a list of names I'd been given, before handing it to my father at dinner.
The next day, Father started as Commander of the City Watch. Within hours, all but two Captains were dismissed, and new ones had been raised up. All but one of the dismissals were by Dark Sister to the body. When the day had ended, the hierarchy had been entirely shaken up. The next day, men began being brought in on rotation for weapons training, and father paid his own money to have all the Watchmen equipped with the same equipment: a dagger, a sword, and a cudgel. Their armor was made all the same, and outfitted with a golden cloak. When I visited the barracks with Ser Harrold watching over me, I already heard their new nickname being passed about.
When I wasn't with Father in the city, I was playing with Rhaenyra up in the Red Keep, often in some of the gardens. It was always fun to play with her, even if I had to listen to her gush about Criston Cole, it was worth it to see her smiling face. And soon, the year turned, from 104 to 105 AC. And I had great reason to hope for an even better year than the previous.