ren-baratheon:

“It’s funny you should bring up Mr. Dondarrion, as a portion of the information I’m here to provide you with comes from his desk originally.  Though I have not had any personal dealings with him since we were on Robert’s cabinet together months ago, and shall take heed of your warnings.” He raised his water glass before taking a sip.

He was about to let Varys in on the truth of his accident when their waiter reappeared with the first course.  After a few moments spent nibbling on his salad, he returned to the topic at hand.  ”I consider the position rightfully mine because that is the simple truth of the matter…it is mine.”

“I won the leadership contest by a landslide.  Had I not been injured, and therefore removed from my Parliamentary seat, I would have been the one called up to form a government after Robert’s death.  Number 10 should be mine right now.”

“I realize that makes me sound like someone unable to accept their fate, but the crux of it is that it wasn’t a mere accident.  Had it all been chance that put me out of commission I could swallow it, but it wasn’t… and as it stands an attempted murderer sits at the helm of our country.”

He let his last, admittedly reactionary, statement hang in the air for a moment.  Taking his time with his food, he finally explained himself, “The hit and run accident was not an accident at all.  It was the work of a man hired by my brother.  Stannis and Melisandre were so unwilling to accept defeat they attempted to have me killed.”

“And that is why I came to you.  So you would know the kinds of things he is capable of…the kind of man he really is.  I have faith that you will agree with me that we cannot allow him to go on like this.”

Now, things were getting interesting.

Varys was curious as to what information Renly possessed that had come from Beric that he was intending to pass onto him. His interest in the proposition was increasing, as whatever edge he could get on the man would be appreciated. Perhaps it would do him well to have some extra eyes and ears on the man, even if he wasn’t keen on the prospect of pulling other people into it. But he could hardly let this thing get out of hand while so many lives were at stake. He had Lester’s life to protect, too. Along with the nation’s people.

His soup comes but he’s far more interested in the conversation at hand than food, although he does eat a few spoonfuls because he knows that the food is good here. But any food pales into comparison to information. Varys listens to Renly summarize the past, which he was well aware of. He had been the favoured Baratheon at the time, before an accident had taken the opportunity from him.

But as Renly goes on, he says that what had happened was no accident at all. His expression is troubled and confused at the statement, rather, accusation made. He’s heard such an unsavoury rumour spoken a few times, but it was merely in cruel jest. What the other man spoke is not that. Was Stannis really capable of such a thing? To kill for ambition…  It seemed that more men that he had initially thought were willing to kill for things that he had not thought they would. First Beric, and now… Stannis? Could it really be true?

“I don’t mean to sound like I don’t believe you, but do you have any proof? That’s a very serious accusation. Not that these types of things are unheard of… And I’m not skeptical because of his position, but rather the character I believe he possessed.” He doesn’t like the thought that Stannis did this. That someone who was Prime Minister would do such a thing to his own brother. He thought for a moment and then tilted his head, examining Renly, “Is that the way you would expect me to aid you? To find proof?” A crime of this gravity would get Stannis ousted, if it were true.

ren-baratheon:

Renly nods as Varys’ assesses his requests, knowing he is asking the impossible.  He was risking sounding like a sore loser, bitter that he’d been bested by his own brother.  But wasn’t that exactly what he was? And what more, didn’t he have every right?  He had won.  He had proven before both Parliament and the people that he was the prime minister they wanted, not Stannis.  Yet his brother had chosen not to accept defeat.  He’d taken matter into his own hands and attempted fratricide.  So now, wasn’t it Renly’s turn to be bitter?  He felt his anger justified.  Only he’d fight back within the parameters of the law…or at least within sights of the boundaries of morality.

“I’m aware I ask a lot, but you must believe I only have the best intentions.  I seek merely to right the wrongs that were committed against me…and in that, correct those that have been done against our society in the wake.”  He knew he was being unnecessarily cryptic, but he did have every intention of arriving at a clear point eventually.  There was something to be about crafting an artful argument, and to do that he needed time to build.  Years on the national debate team had left Renly with useful talents.

He took a sip of water, allowing himself a few moments to further gauge the mood and reactions of his companion.  Knowing he was close to trying his patients, he continued, “Compensation can be tailored to your needs.  Chiefly, I can offer you connections.  I have access to the most powerful media conglomerate in the world.  If it is investigative man power you need…it can be provided.  You want to reach an audience of billions…that can be arranged.  Need to influence public opinion subliminally, it’s as easy as setting up a communications campaign with us.”  He leaned in to drive his next point home, “I know they always warn that the revolution won’t be televised…but why do you think we’ve expanded well beyond newspapers and cable networks?  TMC is online, on air, in print, on mobiles, at bus stops and tube stations, and schools and workplaces…everywhere.  Stannis might have the military, but I’ve got the media, and that’s where the real power lies.”

Smiling to himself, he went on, “And I can offer you access to that power.  And once I’ve gotten what is rightfully mine…I can offer you job security…or upward mobility if that’s what you seek instead.  It seems I’m a bit lighter on friends than I’m used to these days…and a cabinet should be filled with friends.”

Varys had heard that before, about men having the best intentions, from mad men to good men. And he said the very same thing. Renly spoke of  enacting some sort of justice, and he wonders if he felt some sort of entitlement to the position of Prime Minister. Stannis had achieved the position legally, though Renly’s popularity had been rather large. But Varys concerned himself less about any rights of succession and more abut whom he would rather have run the country. Renly over Stannis was tempting, although it’s not only his interests that he’s considering. There is another candidate that he has in mind.

Varys is nonetheless content enough to listen, even if some people might consider this matter a bit treasonous. But what he considered treasonous was the attacks done against civilian lives. And a neglect of caring for the country in lieu of other concerns. Stannis’ shortcomings did not seem like they were purposeful.

And thus, Renly went on about what he would be receiving in turn and he couldn’t help but smile at the thought of surrounding one’s self with friend. Like everyone else in the world, he’s aware of Renly Baratheon’s, well, Renly Tyrell’s connection to the media corporation of the same name. Varys is plentiful with connections, although of course it never to hurt to have more. Everyone like friends in high places. That was why the other man was here talking to him, was it not? At the end of his whimsical speech, Varys whimsically replies, “I would perhaps say that real power says in closed rooms where men shake hands.” He pauses before seeing to fit, “I do not mean to say that the media is not a thunderous force on its own, especially these days. It has a way of either facilitating or making my job much harder,” he chuckles, and he remembers the day when spy operatives were leagues more efficient than any journalist. Now? Sometimes even he finds it easier to procure information through freelancers than sending his own men.

He finds himself tempted by the offer of a promotion, though he considers his own job more useful to his goals. But the thought of Beric  remaining where he was did not seem optimal, for him or for the nation. He looks receptive enough to either idea but what he choose to say is, “I’ll give you a bit of free advice and tell you that Beric Dondarrion is not your friend.” There’s no smile peeking out now, and for this statement he does look serious.

But after another pause, he decides to shift the conversation. “I’d like it if you indulged me in a bit of personal curiosity. Why do you consider the position rightfully yours?” There’s nothing to indicate that he thinks Renly is wrong in thinking that (or that he’s right, for that matter.) “And why did you seek me out specifically? Flattered as I am if you think me the most capable man in government. But knowing what I do, what would make you think I wouldn’t come just so I could tell Stannis all about it?” He asks, once again lacking any note of insult. He merely wonders. Is it a lack of foresight or desperation that propelled Renly to be here? Or does he think that he knows exactly how to persuade a man? But no one in government would say that Varys was just a man.

dragonsheir:

“Aid me?” 

He remembers Varys. A man not unlike the rest of them because when his father’s fire burned and dimmed, Varys had turned around and looked the other way. Loyalty lies where power is guaranteed and when Jon Arryn and Robert Baratheon claimed office after Aerys’ resignation and power shifted from the Tories to the Labour party, Varys loyalty had shifted with it. 

A waiter approaches their table and Rhaegar asks for tea before turning back to look at Varys. “Don’t get me wrong,” Rhaegar says, shifting on his seat. “Not that I’m ungrateful for the offer. It’s just —” He clears his throat and smiles. “How exactly do you intend to aid me?”

Is Varys only crawling back to him because the odds of the race are in his favour? 

And when you’ve become nothing like your father, you will have nothing.

He pushes the thought away. The Lannisters have come back to the Targaryens and Varys, thereafter. Soon, he’ll bring the Targaryen name back to its glory. As he was meant to do. The champion for the Targaryen cause. 

Still, he’s doubtful. How much could he trust them? These had been Aerys’ people before; and where did that land Aerys? Back in Dragonstone, withering and old and just waiting.

Varys can only imagine what is going through Rhaegar’s mind upon the question posed back to him. He knows what he looks like: the implications of the past and the present. When Aerys crumbled he went on to serve the next Prime Minister. Varys had done everything in his power to stop the inevitable, even knowing the man that had Aerys had become. That’s what it was to be young; to have moulded by someone. That was by no means to say he had not tried to reach out to Aerys after, but he had wanted to shut the entire world out. There had been nothing he could do.

Does he merely look like a man who follows power? But it’s never as simple as that; Varys cannot do anything for the nation without the position to go along with it. The waiter comes and Varys seconds a cup of tea, mildly amused at how his luncheon was going. This was hardly a offer he had been waiting to make, but here he was. “I can advise you. I have great insight when it comes to… the bigger picture.” He means to say that he is aware of a great many things, although that should come as no surprise considering his job. And he wouldn’t be where he was if it wasn’t good at strategy. “I have my resources, as well.” In and out of government, he was a force to be reckoned with.

Varys won’t go on about his merits in the ways politicians tout theirs. Instead, he calmly smiles and says, “Perhaps the question is, what do you need done?”

lady-tyrell:

varys has so much attitude at every council meeting it’s the best

ren-baratheon:

Renly’s smile widened when Varys affirmed they were “friends.”  He knew it was but an expression, there were no friends in politics, but starting off on a pleasant tone, be it contrived or not, was preferred territory.

Flashing another bright grin from over his menu, he took no time in getting to his point, “I’m sure you have some guesses as to why I asked you here, most of which are probably correct.”  He set his menu down to take a sip of water, making the other man wait just a few more moments for his true purpose.

“Throughout Robert’s two terms, I recall several occasions where you came through for him in big ways…be it in securing financial backers, or turning around entire parties’ support for pieces of legislation.  I look to you as someone that above all else can get things done.”

The waiter interrupted him, and he stopped his speech so they could place their orders.  Taking a moment to collect his thoughts again, he continued, “I’ve come to you because I’ve also observed your choice of projects to step in on.  You always seem to have the best interests of the people in mind, and I admire that.  I hope that my own policy track record mirrors that same sentiment, in fact.”

Looking around before continuing he made sure they didn’t have any obvious pairs of ears listening in, “I believe that if I’m correct in that assessment, you can’t possibly be happy with the current state of affairs in Britain.  One wouldn’t have thought it possible for things to get worse than what Robert left us with, but it seems my other brother has even less of an idea of how to lead.”  He couldn’t keep from rolling his eyes.

“I’ve asked you here to try to assure you that I am not modeled after either of them.  I’m back in Parliament…and while I enjoy a diminished power, I’m hoping you might have the means to change that?” He looked over at Varys’ curiously, drawing his longwinded narrative to a close.

“Because I think we both agree that we can’t continue like this any longer,” he gestured vaguely in the direction of Parliament and Number 10, knowing that Varys knew exactly of what, or rather who, he referred.  ”Of course, your help would not go without rewards,” he added, well aware of who he was speaking to…and how he operated.

It might not necessarily be accurate to say that Varys thinks that people are predisposed to good or that he believes the best in them, but he’ll at least try and start off with neutral territory with anyone that he doesn’t extensively know on any basis other than hearsay. Sure, he’s technically been introduced to Renly in passing once (where or when escapes him, but all high political circles cross eventually) but he’s never worked for him. He’s heard good things about him, but that’s all still conjecture. Beric Dondarrion didn’t exactly turn out to be a saint at closer inspection, now did he? Now that he thought Renly was going to secretly be a terrorist.

Varys waits patiently, although he is not a man that likes to be toyed with. unnecessarily. Fortunately for the both of them, Renly begins to unravel why he’s been called here. He gave an amused smile about the description of the services he’s done for Robert and replied, “You’re too kind.” While those have indeed been things he did for him it’s hardly the nature of his job or even the most significant things he did for the past Prime Minister. Preventing scandal from breaking out or simply making sure to eliminate all traces of it were among them, but these were not things that Renly would be privy with. And of course, there’s the fact that he is in charge of the nation’s security. The compliment on his competency is appreciated because he gets so few, but he is not a man who can have his favour won by mere flattery.

Not that Renly isn’t good at it. Varys further appreciates the other man’s point of bringing up that he is a man who has the nation’s best interests at heart (but don’t all men in government pretend they do?) Renly points to his record and Varys couldn’t say that he didn’t show great promise, although he’s seen better ones through the many years that he’s worked, but then again, records only went so far in understanding a person. If one looked at Varys’, what might they think?  From Targaryen to Arryn to Baratheon and to another? But should one fault a man who wants to work?

Varys’ expression remained unreadable when the younger Baratheon speaks of the state of the nation. He was known to be difficult to figure out and that what he might have been speaking might be the opposite of what a person deduced. But he doesn’t stop listening; he gave Renly his entire attention. But he does lament the slide down of leadership that he’s seen, not just in Prime Ministers. His own boss, well… who would have thought? Anarchy seemed to be coming back.

A look of curiosity stares at him and he returns one back at the prospect of unseating Stannis Baratheon. Varys could do a great many things, but deposing (was that what he meant to?) was not as easy as it was in some unstable country plagued with poverty. Renly certainly had a faith or a lot of hope in Varys and it’s entertaining to think that his reputation has made it seem like he could hand pick Prime Ministers. He wonders if he really could.

And if he should. Varys takes his first gulp of water when Renly says they couldn’t continue like this. Varys agrees there, but he doesn’t know if Stannis should be punished quite like this and if it’s entirely his fault. He has no guarantee that Renly is better. (Or Rhaegar, for that matter.) So what to do?

He showed a casual interest in the ‘rewards’ that he spoke of. Varys had enough self-interest to be as such, although it was heavily linked with wanting to be able to do something for the nation. “You have a steep wish,” he remarked, thoughtful about it all. Wish made it sound like it needed a magician’s special touch. “If I could aid you…” He doesn’t make a promise that it’s possible at this moment because it’s not sure it is - to take Stannis’ crown and hand it to Renly, but this is about honesty. Any man that could without hesitation was a liar. Varys would need to think about how to do it and if he wanted to. “What would be my compensation?” He asked, watching the man carefully.

He saw fit to add, “I know my reputation is shrouded in rumours, but I shall tell you that I am not merely a man who sells his favour for the highest bidder. If I did I’d likely be a much richer man than I am.” He paused and then chuckled, “I’m not saying that to drive the price up.” He knows how it sounds, when it comes to these types of negotiations. But he does wonder what the offer will be. And in fact what does he want.

But he can hardly just ask for peace and prosperity for the nation.

olddragons:

“But others did,” Aerys snaps, turning hastily and walking to the liquor cabinet. He doesn’t really feel like drinking, so he looked at the bottles instead, his eyes scanning each and every label. “They saw him as a saviour, and look at what he gave them.” He smirks, when he thinks of the English people: they sought solace in a new tyrant, when the one they were efusing was the only one who could possibly ever know how to handle the country.

He eyes the other many wearily and snorts. “Good providence?” he repeats. “Politics know no providence, I thought you might have learned that. Politics are men and what they do, what they say. Politics are a consequence of what the people who matter decide they are.” His focus falters for a moment, and he remembers a time when politics were what he decided of them. Soon enough. “Robert learned that. The people who called out for him digged his grave and shoved his body into the coffin.”

They will call my name soon enough. They will remember soon enough.

Aerys likes to think they will all pay the way Robert did, in due time. Tywin Lannister and his traitor son, Stannis Baratheon and his council of idiocy, the Tyrells and their flock of hens and cocks; the Starks in the North will shove indipendence up their cold arses as soon as it begins. War. Aerys had been through more than a war: he can smell it in the air the way a hound smells a truffle. It’s right behind the corner. He has an advantage on the rest of them: he knows it’s coming, and he has prepared for this his whole life. He thinks of himself as a general, merciless and cruel, but needed.

“What news of elections? How much longer does Stannis Baratheon think he can stall?”

The Prime Minister is the father of the nation; regardless the age, regardless of anything, that’s just how it was. Look at what you gave them. For a long time he couldn’t think such a thing, because he hadn’t even realized it. He’d held a bias towards his former mentor; he’d been too close to everything, then. But it was different now, somehow. Watching him closely he said, “He gave them a martyr’s death.” Defeated and disgraced he might have been, but he died in office. Varys spoke not only about the populace, but the terrorists themselves. They’d killed the one man in England who couldn’t be killed, or at least the nation had thought he couldn’t be. He’s sure that Robert felt the same. There’s chaos in the underbelly of the nation, now. And overseas, with that whole with Scotland. Stannis might have a strong sense of duty, but that lead to only so much efficiency.

It might be strange, but Varys smiled, to see Aerys as sharp as he had been before. “The nation is decided in a locked away room with men shaking hands with other men. Or just one man playing chess, if he’s good enough.” Is that not what Varys did for a living? Sometimes the former, mostly the latter? Of course Varys knew that there were no accidents in life, no chance, no karma. Just men and their will. He says nothing to the next thing Aerys says, for Varys thinks that there are not just physical coffins to be buried in. Political careers can die, too.

Aerys poses a query ad Varys comes to think about how he hasn’t heard anything about elections yet. “Until the people come banging down his doors, it seems,” he begins, thinking about what might happen then. He wonders, would Aerys put his name into the hat for a bid? The man seemed to have never lost his lusting for the position. But Rhaegar is the most sensible choice. “He’s too wrapped up in the Scotland business and the aftermath of the anarchy. All that sense of duty has him focused on that rather than any sort of campaign.” Varys can’t begrudge him those sentiments, although it’s the matter of the right leadership to fix the nation. Varys, on his own, can only do so much. And he’s trying.

“If he continues to show he can’t protect the country, it won’t leave the people any choice but to look for other options. Proven leaders.” Was it too much to ask for peace? For peace and prosperity? Which was more important? That the country didn’t burn or that it didn’t starve? It’s why he was here.

lester-morrigen:

Lester shakes his head.  He there’s something like bile in the back of his throat even thinking about him.  Feels like fear, tastes like bile, that’s his experience with Beric Dondarrion.  ”No.  No, not sane nor logical at all.  Very much insane, as far as I know.”  He looks at Varys something pleadingly.  ”We’ll stop him, won’t we?  We can do that, can’t we?  Together I’m sure we can.”

Of course, life doesn’t really work like that.  They can’t just make him stop doing what he’s doing.  They have to be careful.  They have to take precautions, because it’s not as though Lester is powerful at all.  But Varys is, and Lester doesn’t know why Varys can’t do what Lester is unable to.  Is he afraid, of facing Dondarrion outright?  Does he think the best way is actually to pretend to by an ally?  Lester has to remind himself, sometimes, on how little his friend thinks like him sometimes.  Lester would charge in head first, but Varys?  Never.  And that’s not a bad thing at all, Lester reminds himself.

“St. Paul’s Cathedral…”  His name.  Varys’s name is probably on a wall with so many other names, just placed there for some sort of honor that Lester’s sure Varys wouldn’t care about anyway.  Lester doesn’t understand why Varys can’t just tell him.  If he trusted him, he would tell him.  If he cared about him, he would.  Or perhaps not.  Maybe it’s not a measure of anything, and Varys just doesn’t care about his name at all.

“I know you don’t want any of that.  And yes, we should work together.”  It’s best, Lester thinks, that they are on the same page in this.  They need to work together and Lester never ever wants them to have this type of misunderstanding that they had today again.

Beric was becoming more and more of a problem and having to focus on him was sidetracking him from his true goal. “We shall try,” he replies soothingly to Lester, and that’s all he can give him. There are no guarantees in life; he knows that the conviction of an assured victory has led many men to their downfall. Beric is not his top priority. Varys believes that their is another group. That night he talked to him he did not see a murderer; now may be different, but then, no. But perhaps they are one and the same now. He hadn’t quite thought of it like that, until Lester seemed to push the idea that there was only one.

Lester murmurs back the name to him and he wonders if an indirect answer makes him less trustworthy. Then again, Varys had always been a man known to be in the shadows. Still, he finds his name of little of importance and most certainly to no advantage. There’s power in being a figure that no one knows much about; the kind that seems he has nothing to lose. But he supposes he doesn’t. Well, now he has to worry about Lester’s life. It was not something that he had anticipated. He believes that innocent lives should be away from such matters - politics. It’s why he doesn’t approve of the Stadium bombing; it was all politics, at the cost of civilian lives.

He smiles at the fact that Lester has faith in him, that he believed he wasn’t capable of what Beric was. But no doubt Lester might also think that he wasn’t quite capable of doing some of things Beric might have done for good. But that was also what he liked about Lester, that rare idealism. But it was also a dangerous thing to have. “Do you need somewhere new to stay?”

castamererain:

#Tourists take #Toronto. #Suits #GoT #maddogs #onemorehashtag [x]

ren-baratheon:

He’d chosen the restaurant for two reasons.  The first, he’d heard the first white truffles of the season had been delivered a few days prior.  The second, it was a common haunt for the Parliament lunch crowd, and as attractive as a meeting with Sir Varys was, being seen with him was even better.  Varys was mysterious, and in mystery was power.  Renly had heard as many ludicrous rumors about the kind of things this man got up to as he’d heard truths.  He wanted the whispers to start.  Let the silence over his plan of action build suspense.  Let the rest of the Government grow more and more curious until curiosity gives way to fear…and fear would walk them right up to his door.

But his meeting with Varys did serve a purpose outside the mere cursory.  Varys was powerful, he was someone you wanted on your side, it only made sense to lay out a case for himself to him.  If it didn’t work, then the appearances were made, tongues would wag, and no harm would be done.

Arriving early at Margaery’s behest, Renly waited, running over his talking points in his mind.  He rose when Varys made his entrance and reached out to shake his hand, “Sir, thank you so much for meeting with me.  It’s greatly appreciated.”

The email he received had been curious. Not surprised; few things surprised Varys these days, though it seemed this year had made a point of trying to turn the world upside down. Perhaps that is why Renly Baratheon has called him here for today. He’s worked too long to think that this public luncheon is just about catching. Renly, after all, has his own people under his employ. If the nature of the conversation is as he suspects he would have preferred it to be under closed doors, but of course, there’s a reason for everything.

Varys showed up just on time, having just come from another rendezvous. He was a busy man, and that was excluding his extracurriculars, which included trying to hunt down terrorists in his free time. He shook Renly’s hand with a smile, “Once again,  it’s an honour. And there’s no need to call me sir, we’re all friends here.”

He sat down, looking calm and composed as ever. He took the menu, looking at it as began to speak again, “So, are you going to tell me why I’m really here or do I have to guess?” When he finished, he looked back to Renly, ever smiling.

dragonsheir:

Is it childish, he wonders, to already toy with the idea of finding a quick escape before this conversation and encounter becomes much longer than it should? Quietly in his mind, Rhaegar is already listing of - not exactly lies but rather - excuses he can make up. A meeting? He does have that, but not for another couple of hours and he can indulge himself in whatever small time he had to himself. 

Rhaegar looks down at his plate with food he had no intention of finishing before his gaze drifts to the empty chair in front of him. He’s alone too, but had no plans or wants of having company. Good or otherwise. It’s his manners that tell him to be curteous, not curt. Habit. Varys is a man of influence and Rhaegar knows the importance of connections. 

“Funny that,” he gives a short laugh. “So am I.” He smiles as warmly as he can and gestures over to the chair in front of him. “If you’d like, you may join me.” He takes the glass of water near by and takes a sip. “For a little while,” he adds quickly, fidgeting with his wrist watch. He can endure five minutes. Seven, even. He looks around. He should have asked to be seated at the smoker’s area. Suddenly he hands are itching for a cigarette, and his lungs for smoke and a bit of nicotine. “I have to return Parliament soon. You know how it is.”  

Varys has the sense that what he asked was an imposition. It’s an easy assumption to make even without any superior skills of reading people. If a man like Rhaegar had wanted company, he would have it. But Varys will have to give up common courtesy when there are more important matters at hand. He could feel the unstable political winds and he held a certain fondness, or perhaps bias, towards Rhaegar. Who else was there really to look to, anyway? That isn’t to say Stannis can be entirely be blamed for every misfortune, but he’d had higher expectations than this. But that almost like too cynical and too ambitious a reason for coming over; Varys wasn’t really quite like that. In these isolating times, what was wrong with wanting human connections?

He smiles back, and he is appreciative that Rhaegar nonetheless offers him a chair even if he’d prefer his peace. It might be more out of politeness, but still. He nods as he sits down, knowing that they are both busy men. Parliament; yes, he understands. There’s no doubt a hundred and one papers for him to read when he gets back. And out of the office he has a terrorist group or two for him to catch.

“I know we haven’t been close as we could have been in the recent years due to… certain circumstances, But it was not a lack of intentions,” he begins, although it sounds entirely too convoluted. Many people had said told him that it seemed like he spoke in riddles. “What I mean to say is, I would like to aid you.” He doesn’t say like I did your father, because he’s even sure how he would quite feel about saying such a thing. It wouldn’t be the same; in age, Rhaegar would be like a brother than a father. And Aerys’ personality seems to be absent in him, which might be a good thing for the nation. Before, it had been good for him, but for the people…