"If I am honest Prince Hugh, I prefer to be here than the Red
Keep….."
Hugh gave a quick, barked laugh and said, "here you can only be
burned or mauled to death, unlike the Red Keep where you are more
likely with every day that goes by to find a High-Born lass in your
bed!"
The pair of them were in the Dragonpit, the young King Aegon
having just left after his daily visit to the Dragonpit and his dragon
Stormcloud, something which Prince Hugh had insisted upon, that
every Dragon rider must attend to their mount daily, no matter what.
Though there were only three dragonriders left, there were five other
dragons' resident in the Dragonpit, Silverwing had fled the Dragonpit
after the death of Ulf the White for Dragonstone, where she still
resided.
Of the five other dragons, Dreamfyre was without a rider but showed
no inclination to leave the Dragonpit as Silverwing had, Syrax, also
without a rider, was even less inclined to do anything, being by far
the laziest of all the dragons.
Stormcloud was just about big enough for King Aegon to ride him,
Shrykos and Morghul were far too small to be ridden as of yet.
But Hugh had also insisted that Princess Jaehaera also spend time
with her dragon, at least once a week she was escorted to the
Dragonpit for a session with her dragon, along with Prince Viserys,
who had yet to hatch or claim a dragon.
And when they were at the Dragonpit Hugh would instruct the royals
on dragons and dragon lore, Hugh having become something of an
expert on this subject, having read everything he could lay his hands
on in the Library of the Red Keep and Dragonstone about the great
flying lizards.
But Hugh tempered his book reading with the experience of the
handlers in the Dragonpit and on Dragonstone, and with his own
experience of handling Vermithor. And the biggest thing he stressed
again and again was spending time with your dragon, even if you
were only in its presence, to deepen the bond between dragon and
rider. Prince Hugh's so called 'pre and post flight checks', where you
ran your hands over the dragon's skin before and after you flew atop
it was drilled into everyone's heads, for it your dragon did not like
you touching it then how could you be sure it would obey your
commands once in the air?
Vermithor was by far the most docile of the dragons, despite its size,
its age and its recent war experience, and it was noticeably placid
when in Hugh's presence, as were the riderless dragons Addam
could not fail to notice.
All of those dragons currently without a rider had no problem with
Hugh approaching them, nor with him stroking and petting them,
talking to them in hushed tones like he was comforting them, Syrax
in particular liking this treatment.
Price Hugh had been confirmed as 'Lord Commander of Dragons'
and notionally placed in charge of all things dragon related, which
included the Dragonpit, its staff and the resident dragons.
He had congratulated Hugh on this appointment, which included a
seat on the Small Council, but his friend had replied that this so
called 'command' was an administrative one and not an operational
one, and thus 'useless'.
Addam did not understand this difference but given how annoyed
Hugh had looked at the time he had not pressed the matter for
further explanation. Nor did he mention that for a few hours Hugh
had effectively been the King of Westeros, until the surviving royal
children had turned up, it was something which he feared to mention
and which his father had never spoken a single, further word on. His
friend had retreated into himself to a dramatic extent, especially in
those first few weeks, barely speaking to anyone, and absolutely
avoiding attending court, until the Lord Regent had ordered Hugh to
attend court as required of a Prince of the realm.
Still, Hugh seemed to be happiest when he was in the Dragonpit, or
atop Vermithor, and was always more relaxed here than in the Red
Keep. The deep melancholy that seemed to accompany Hugh was
only lifted partially when he was in the Dragonpit, it seemed to cling
to Hugh like a second skin when he saw him in the Red Keep.
Hugh spent most of his days in the Dragonpit, though he lived in the
Red Keep he, what was he had called it? Oh yes, he 'commuted'
every day to the Dragonpit, and the only reason he did not live in the
Dragonpit was because his father, the Lord Regent had forbidden
Hugh from doing so.
And was that not a weird thing, to know that the man you assumed
had been your grandfather was in fact your father? This was not
common knowledge of course, he always addressed Lord Corlys as
Grandfather when occasion called for it.
One of the first things Hugh had done was exercise the dragons
everyday by letting them out to fly, always accompanied by him atop
Vermithor, acting like some sort of monstrous sheep dog, corralling
the other riderless dragons and preventing them from wandering off.
It had been difficult at first, the smaller dragons especially being wont
to make darts for what looked like freedom to Addam's mind, only to
be chased down and harried back into line by Vermithor. Eventually
Hugh had gotten the dragons to accompany Vermithor on flights, the
dragons taking up something of a formation, and not just a chaos of
dragons darting all over the sky.
He had joined Hugh in this, using their dragons as 'leaders' to chivvy
along the dragons into order, but after a few moons of daily attempts
they were now able to get the majority of the dragon aloft and out for
a practice flight out over Blackwater Bay, the promise of being able
to fish for food eventually tempting the younger dragons to obey.
Not that the dragons were not fed daily of course, they were, but
Hugh was of the opinion that the dragons needed to hunt and fly for
their 'mental health', whatever that was.
"It's hard to believe that, that the war ended six moons ago, is it
not?" he asked Hugh, the pair of them were sitting in a room that
Hugh had appropriated as his solar in the Dragonpit, which had
windows and a balcony that gave out onto the great central atrium of
the Dragonpit.
The King's dragon Stormcloud was currently occupying the central
space, sitting rather placidly as dragon handlers busied with cleaning
and brushing the beast. The dragon handlers would also on
occasion prune errantly growing scales and trim the claws of the
dragons, though this was not a favourite thing for any of the great
lizards.
The rider would usually have to be in attendance for something like
this to calm the dragon, for those that were riderless Hugh would
step in to placate them. Mostly successfully, though Dreamfyre was
by far the most intractable when it came to being 'groomed'.
"Aye, and we are still in the grips of winter, a winter which shows no
sign of ending either" replied Hugh, and Addam was for once glad of
the often-stifling heat of the Dragonpit, the combined body heat of
the resident dragons raising the temperature inside the structure
greatly.
"The Maesters say that there is no sign of Winter ending anytime
soon, that it may last for several more years yet" he said rather
mournfully, knowing that a long winter was always bad news. Famine
had already swept the Riverlands and the land was in the grip of
harsh, freezing temperatures. Winter crop growing had been almost
totally halted north of the Red Fork by the freezing temperatures and
heavy snowfalls.
Only the Reach and parts of the Stormlands were still able to
produce normal crops, oh and Dorne also, but the contribution of
Dorne to food supply was minimal. He knew all this as he would
often dine with his father who seemed keen to share the issues and
problems of being Regent with him.
Addam suspected this was part of his training for when he would
inherit Driftmark, he had even been allowed to attend some of the
Small Council meetings on occasion, but with the admonition to say
nothing unless specifically asked.
"The Reach has us over a barrel as usual," sighed Hugh, "as they
are the only real place that can still churn out substantial agricultural
surpluses."
"Hence why Lord Ormund Hightower is Hand of the King" he said,
unable to keep disgust from his voice, for he disliked intensely the
Hightower Lord, from the very moment he had met the new Hand of
the King he had been intensely uncomfortable in the man's
presence.
"Aye, that prick is far to oily, far too sure of himself for my tastes…
his delivery of Cole's head was as sure a sign as any that he has not
an ounce of morals or honour….."
"I'd be, careful about saying that openly Hugh…."
"I am, you don't see me blabbing my mouth off to anyone else do
you?"
"No, you are, quiet…..mostly…. at any of the Small Council meetings
I have been invited to."
"Not much for me to say outside of dragons, and there is no war on,
so I'm barely needed."
"You, you do get invited to balls, feasts and hunts quite a bit
though?"
"As do you by young friend, as do you."
"The, the Lord Regent has advised me to attend as many of these as
I can….."
"Likewise, he has ordered me to attend these…..though he has
reminded me that I am not to make any decisions about taking a
wife. He reserves that right for himself as Lord Regent."
Addam's ears reddened at this, and before he could reply Hugh
added "there is a surprisingly large number of unwed noble maidens
in Kings Landing currently, along with their ambitious mothers. It is
more dangerous now than it ever was during the war!"
"Lady Lannister and Lady Baratheon seem to be conducting some
sort of, I don't know…..fashion war?" Addam asked, a little bit of
frustration and disbelief creeping into his voice at the antics of the
two powerful Ladies.
"A 'fashion war' Addam?" chuckled Hugh "oh no my young padwan,
this is a real war. Those two have daughters they need wed, and
both are in desperate need of clawing back the power that their
respective husbands squandered during the war by having the bad
sense to pick the wrong side. This war they are fighting with
elaborate gowns and lavish parties, while the prices of food creeps
higher every day in the city… is every bit as deadly as the war we
fought Addam, and blood will eventually be spilled, I would not doubt
that for a moment. Both Houses are in rather perilous positions, no
wonder their ladies braved the winter roads to hurry to Kings
Landing. House Baratheon has had its vassals decimated and its
military power is broken. Add to this the fact that the Lannister's had
to be 'prodded' somewhat aggressively to give back the portion of
the Crown's treasury that they were 'guarding' and the fact that they
have been flooding the Master of Coin's coffers with very cheap
loans. Both need strong alliances and marriages to move them back
up the pecking order. And you and I would provide exactly the right
sort of alliance that they would want. And that is before we even take
into account the minor Houses of the Crownlands, the Reach and
the Vale that are all suddenly present in the Red Keep and with
daughters on tow."
"Really?" he squeaked, suddenly very, very afraid.
"You and I, and the King, are prizes to be won Addam, prizes that
would bring immeasurable power to whatever House managed to
secure their daughters as our wives."
"But, but the King is already betrothed?" he asked, confusion
obvious in his voice.
"Our dear future Queen is but a girl of nine years of age, the King is
ten and two, neither is wed, and neither could consummate any
marriage if they did wed. This is an enormous temptation for anyone
who is ruthless enough to exploit. I would not be at all surprised if
sweet Jaehaera came to a sudden and unfortunate end in the next
few years. In fact, I would wager that one of the reasons why no
wedding has yet been announced is that such an action would likely
spark multiple assassination attempts against the Princesses life."
"That, that is…"
"I know, I suspect that your grandfather is delaying the
announcement of the marriage in the hopes he can thwart any
attempts on Jaehaera's life. Which still leaves you and I my friend,
as targets for a pack of rabid bitches…."
"Lord, Lord Urwin Peake has been very attentive towards me
recently, he apparently has tried repeatedly to get a seat on the
Small Council, but my father is having none of it."
A ghost of a smile crossed Hugh's face at this "ah yes, he arrived
with Lord Ormund Hightower and seems to think that he is entitled to
a seat on the Small Council for some reason. Brought his daughter
with him also, the Lady Myrielle, who looks like a turnip…"
"Hugh!" he protested "she is no great beauty I admit, but that is
unfair!"
"You can marry the chit then" Hugh snapped back, a smile softening
the sharp response.
"Oh, apparently Lord Tyland Lannister is to be announced as Master
of Whispers in the next few days" Hugh added after a few seconds'
silence.
"Oh?"
"Oh indeed Addam, oh indeed. This fills the last open spot on the
Small Council, which should stop some of the ceaseless
maneuvering that has been going on to be awarded this last spot on
the Small Council."
"But?" Addam asked, knowing his friend's tone of voice well enough
by now to pick up on what Hugh was really trying to say.
"Addam, the Greens appear to have gotten off far too lightly for a war
that they started, and mark my word Addam, this war is not over, a
wise man once said that 'war is a continuation of politics by other
means', well you can also reverse that and say that 'politics is just
war by other means'. No, this war is most definitely not over, not to
my mind."
Addam said nothing in return, but he did not disagree with what
Hugh was saying.