The legal offensive, led by Dana Remus, who until 2022 served as President Biden’s White House counsel, and Robert Lenhard, an outside lawyer for the party, will be aided by a communications team dedicated to countering candidates who Democrats fear could play spoiler to Mr. Biden. It amounts to a kind of legal Whac-a-Mole, a state-by-state counterinsurgency plan ahead of an election that could hinge on just a few thousand votes in swing states.
The aim “is to ensure all the candidates are playing by the rules, and to seek to hold them accountable when they are not,” Mr. Lenhard said.
WHAT???
You're telling me that this guy
Suddenly gives a single shit about the rules???
The headlines about this are fucking insane also
"will giving voters access to vote for whatever candidate they want dooming democracy"
Normal headline for a country that definitely isn't being run by fascists.
Btw this is Dana Remus
"In August 2022, President Biden questioned in a 60 Minutes interview “how anyone can be that irresponsible” when asked about classified documents in the possession of former President Trump.
But when President Biden said this, he knew he had stashed classified materials in several unsecure locations for years, dating back to his time as vice president and even as U.S. senator."
[...]President Biden’s attorneys claim to have first discovered classified material at Penn Biden Center on November 2, 2022. However, President Biden and his lawyers kept it secret from the American people before the midterm elections.
CBS News broke the story in January 2023, leaving Americans to wonder if the White House had any intention of ever disclosing that President Biden hoarded classified documents for years.
You know what else they did together? Lied about codifying Roe v Wade if they won mid-terms. 6months AFTER dems won a narrow majority, Rie v Wade was overturned.
And like not to be a wacky conspiracy theorist who's right again but
"The case concerned the constitutionality of a 2018 Mississippi state law that banned most abortion operations after the first 15 weeks of pregnancy. The Mississippi law was based on a model by a Christian legal organization, Alliance Defending Freedom, with the specific intent to provoke a legal battle that would reach the Supreme Court and result in the overturning of Roe"
Guess what the Alliance Defending freedom works with and serves an agenda for?
Project 2025 yeah, the heritage foundation lists them as partners
Yeah remember how Dana Remus worked with Samuel Alito? Guess who's vote helped overrule abortion rights?
Samuel Alito, correct. Guess who else? Thomas, Gorsuch, Kavanaugh, Barrett.
All Trump appointments.
Odd company to find yourself in without having ANY ties to the ADF or heritage foundation or project2025.
I wonder who the lawyers involved were?
Scott G Stewart. Interesting. Well who appointed him, right?
In 2021, Mississippi Attorney General Lynn Fitch appointed Scott G. Stewart as Solicitor General for the State of Mississippi.
Oh so she was voted in.
Well im sure it was a normal election that Democrats didn't tamper with or anything. Like SURELY they didn't intentionally platform this woman using the Pied Piper method? SURELY NOT after platforming Trump and making the entire 2016 elections about anti-Trumpism. SURELY, they wouldn't have tried to make themselves look better by positioning themselves against extremists only to LOSE the bet they were making.
SURELY WE DIDNT LOSE ROE V WADE BECAUSE DEMOCRATS WONT STOP USING THE PIED PIPER STRATEGY TO WIN ELECTIONS? R I G H T???
Riley Collins, 53, is running against the state's treasurer, Lynn Fitch, who was the chair of the group Mississippi Women for Trump in 2016. Riley Collins is running an explicitly anti-Trump message, saying Monday that she doesn’t understand how Donald Trump's Christian supporters can reconcile their politics with their faith
Oh.
Welp.
Everyone thank democrats for Trump and the stacked supreme court and the loss of Roe V Wade. It Truly couldn't have happened without them blasting primetime tv with alt right candidates 24/7.
One day democrats will stop platforming right wing extremists and election tampering but I guess it won't be anytime soon.
Let me ask, what's the biggest argument for voting blue this year?
Right.
And how's that going? Y'all feel confident in that strategy right now?
And don't forget what they did to Bernie. Because Biden is very poetically doing the same fucking shit to sabotage 3rd parties right now.
Remember to act surprised when Trump wins.
Like voters and progressives and leftists haven't been saying for MONTHS that we won't vote Biden. Like swing states aren't voting uncommitted. Like labor unions aren't voting uncommitted. Like he isn't tanking the polls.
You know I will say that this election is a little different. Clinton didn't have nearly this much pushback so early in the race.
Biden's massive gap of votes compared to Trump is gonna look like the grand fucking canyon.
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Of Dragons and Maelstroms
Themes and Warnings: slow burn, enemies to lovers, blood, violence, explicit language, sexual violence, period-typical misogyny, sexual themes, smut, tension, marriage, jealousy, pregnancy, childbirth, miscarriage, attempted sexual assault, breastfeeding, major character death, divergent timelines
Disclaimer: I do not own any of the House of The Dragon/Fire & Blood/Game of Thrones characters nor do I claim to own them. I do not own any of the images used nor do I claim to own them.
Chapter Sixty-Three
As twilight descended over the Red Keep, casting long shadows through the stained glass windows of the Small Council Chambers, the room took on a serene yet somber atmosphere. The flickering light of torches and the warm glow of candle flames danced across the polished wooden table at the center of the chamber, casting fleeting shadows on the faces of those gathered. The table itself was strewn with maps, scrolls, and various parchments, evidence of the weighty matters discussed within these walls.
The air was heavy with the scent of parchment and ink, mingling with the faint aroma of the lavender-scented candles that adorned the room. The walls, adorned with tapestries depicting scenes of Westerosi history and heraldry, seemed to come alive in the fading light, their intricate details illuminated by the dying embers of the day. The chairs surrounding the table were occupied by members of the Small Council, their expressions grave as they discussed matters of state and strategy in hushed tones.
At the head of the table, King Aegon sat with his Conqueror's Crown resting heavily upon his brow, his expression a mixture of frustration and weariness. His hand propped up his head as he listened to the debate unfold before him. Lord Otto, the Hand of the King, sat to Aegon’s immediate right and was at forefront of the discussion, his voice firm and commanding as he laid out his arguments. On the opposite side of the table, the Master of Ships, Ser Tyland Lannister leaned forward in his seat, his words sharp and decisive. Beside him, Lord Jasper Wylde, Maera's father and Master of Laws, offered his own insights, his voice measured but firm as he defended his positions.
In the midst of the debate, the Master of Whispers, Lord Larys, sat back in his chair, his sharp eyes taking in every detail of the proceedings. His lips remained sealed, but his gaze spoke volumes as he observed the interactions between the council members. Across from him, Maester Orwyle engaged in a quiet conversation with the dowager Queen Alicent, who sat two empty seats away from her father, the Hand.
Two additional seats were arranged at the end of the table, closest to the entrance of the chambers. The first was occupied by young Prince Daeron, his youthful features twisted into a scowl as he drummed his fingers impatiently against the polished wooden surface of the table. His presence indicated that the matters being discussed were of utmost importance, though his demeanor suggested a lack of enthusiasm for the proceedings. The second seat was swiftly claimed by Ser Criston Cole, as he entered the chambers before Aemond and Maera. His presence commanded respect as he took his place at the table, his expression serious and focused as he prepared to lend his counsel to the council’s deliberations.
Throughout the chamber, several other members of the Kingsguard could be seen, their white cloaks and gleaming armor marking them as the sworn protectors of the royal family. Among them was Ser Arryk Cargyll, Maera’s own protector, his steadfast presence a reassuring presence amidst the tumultuous discussions taking place within the chamber. Making their way to the table, Aemond, ledgers under his arm and ever composed, led Maera to the available seats, his hand resting reassuringly on her shoulder as she sat next to Alicent. Once she was settled, the One-Eyed Prince took the seat next to his grandfather and looked to him as he continued the heated debate with the other councillors.
As Maera observed the busy chambers, she couldn’t shake the feeling of being out of place amidst discussions of warfare and strategy. Why had Aegon even asked her to be there? The weight of responsibility bore down on her shoulders as she listened intently to the heated debates unfolding around her. At first, the intricacies of military tactics and political maneuvering seemed overwhelming, but as she continued to listen, she began to grasp the nuances of the Green’s positions in the ongoing conflict.
"The threat of invasion from the North looms large, and we must take decisive action to protect our borders. We cannot afford to squander our resources on frivolous campaigns!”
“"And what of our naval forces? We need to invest more money into them and secure our coastal territories to prevent any further advances by the Velaryon fleet.”
“Our finances are steadily increasing from the slight raise in taxes, but it may not be enough to support army numbers just yet. The Stormlands and the Westerlands are also asking for financial aid in order to prevent Rhaenyra’s forces from marching into their territories.”
Despite her initial discomfort, Maera found herself drawn into the fray of debate, her sharp mind quickly picking up on the various arguments being presented. Yet, amidst the cacophony of voices clamoring for attention, she couldn’t help but feel a sense of déjà vu. The bickering and squabbling reminded her all too vividly of the spirited discussions that had filled the dinner table at Rain House during her youth.
As the councilmen argued and shouted to make their voices heard, Maera couldn’t help but feel a pang of despair. If this was the way politics were typically handled by the men of Westeros, she feared for the future of the Realm. With a sigh, she rested her head in her hands, the din of squabbling voices echoing in her ears, a stark reminder of the challenges ahead.
The heated arguments abruptly halted as the chamber was pierced by the sharp sound of hands slamming onto the wooden table. Maera instinctively turned her head toward the source of the commotion, her gaze falling upon Aegon, his countenance darkened with frustration and impatience. With a resounding screech, the King pushed back his chair and rose to his feet, his towering presence dominating the room. His expression was thunderous, his brows furrowed in a mix of anger and exasperation as he addressed his advisors.
"My son is dead," Aegon announced in a hushed yet ominous voice, the weight of his words hanging heavy in the air. "And the daughter that grew in Helaena’s womb did not even have a chance to enter the world."
The deep breathing of every single person in the room could be heard as they looked at their King, their faces reflecting a mixture of shock and sorrow. Aegon continued with a dark chuckle, his tone tinged with bitterness. "My wife has sunk even further into madness because of it, which even I did not think possible."
Maera couldn't help but frown at this statement aimed at poor Helaena, her heart aching for the Queen's suffering.
Lord Otto, ever the voice of reason, was the first to dare to break the silence. "The loss of Jaehaerys is a grave tragedy," he acknowledged solemnly. "But we must continue. We cannot let this crime go unpunished."
Standing from his seat, Lord Otto approached Aegon and placed a comforting hand on his shoulder. "There is a reason Jaehaerys was murdered," he continued, his voice steady and resolute. "Because deep down, even Rhaenyra knew that you are the rightful King. And because she could not stand that fact, she attempted to weaken you by taking away your heir."
The room fell silent once more, the weight of Lord Otto's words hanging in the air as the councilors contemplated the grim reality of their situation.
To everyone's surprise, Aegon's cold stare bore into his Grandfather, his eyes glossy with suppressed emotion as he spoke with chilling clarity. "The only reason we are here is because of you," he stated icily, his words cutting through the tension in the room like a knife. The other council members leaned forward, their expressions a mix of curiosity and apprehension, as if eager to witness the unfolding confrontation.
"Your Grace?" Lord Otto replied, his tone cautious as he addressed his grandson. Despite their familial ties, Aegon was still his King, and Otto knew he would have to tread carefully if he wanted to keep his head.
Aegon's sneer only deepened as he continued, his accusation pointed and unforgiving. "Viserys loses his wife and his son, yet you immediately paraded your young daughter under his nose in order to climb the ladder of power."
"That is enough, Aegon," dowager Queen Alicent interjected from across the table, her voice carrying a note of warning. But Aegon silenced his mother with a cold stare that spoke volumes.
Turning his attention back to Lord Otto, Aegon's voice dripped with disdain. "I bet you were thrilled when mother birthed me. A child of your blood, a contender to the throne."
"You were the King's firstborn son," Otto growled in response. "The crown was always meant to be yours."
Aegon's retort was swift and cutting, his words laced with bitterness and accusation. "So you usurped the throne the minute Viserys' heart stopped, taking it from Rhaenyra, whose claim Viserys steadfastly upheld, causing a fucking war?!" His voice echoed through the chamber, the weight of his accusation hanging heavy in the air.
Maera sensed Aemond’s tension beside her, his body rigid with silent frustration at the escalating argument. Without hesitation, she reached out and placed her hand on his, offering a silent reassurance amidst the mounting tension. Though Aemond didn’t turn to acknowledge her, he intertwined his fingers with hers, a subtle acknowledgment of her presence and support.
Lord Otto's retort reverberated through the chamber, his voice rising with indignation. "The Realm would not have accepted her as Queen! If she had taken the throne, you, your brothers, your wife, your children, would all have been put to the sword as to not challenge her!"
Aegon genuinely laughed at his Grandfather’s reasoning , his response dripping with scorn. Maera couldn't help but ponder Otto's concerns, though the notion of Rhaenyra resorting to such brutal measures seemed incongruent with the image of the beloved queen the Realm revered. Still, she understood the fear that gripped Queen Alicent and her children in the face of such perceived threats.
Scratching his head beneath his crown, Aegon fixed his gaze back on Otto, his expression hardening with resolve. "You said the Ironborn would back us, they have not. Then you suggested the Dornish, who have not. Then you assure me that Westeros backs my claim, and yet over half of it has flocked to Rhaenyra's cause," Aegon declared, his frustration palpable as he addressed the council. Turning to the assembled councilors, Aegon pressed on, his voice ringing with determination. "If you were stupid and power-hungry enough to plunge us into war off of baseless fears and lies, the least you could have done is ensure we win it!"
Before the tension could escalate further, Aemond's voice cut through the room, his tone measured and neutral as he addressed his brother. "Aegon," he interjected, his words a plea for calm amidst the storm of emotions that threatened to consume them all.
Aegon's gaze met Aemond's, a fleeting moment of unspoken understanding passing between the brothers. Maera, silently praying beside her husband, hoped that Aegon's anger wouldn't be redirected at Aemond. Instead, Aegon cleared his throat, redirecting his attention to Lord Otto with an exasperated sigh.
"Viserys may have been weak and stupid, but he did one thing during his reign that I thought was smart," Aegon declared. In a swift, unsettling movement, he removed the golden pin that signified the Hand of the King from Lord Otto's breast pocket. Gasps filled the room, and Aemond shot up from his seat, fists clenched, his eyes fixed on the dishonoring act.
Alicent's voice cut through the tension, her tone pleading as she addressed her son. "Aegon, please. Your grandfather has been nothing but loyal to the crown. He does not deserve this."
Aegon replied, his words biting. "Your heart has made you soft, and turn a blind eye to his countless failings." Without meeting his grandfather's eyes, Aegon made a final demand. "I suggest you get out of these chambers while I think about what to do with you, lest I send you back to Oldtown in my anger. Go."
With uncertainty pooling in her stomach, Maera watched as Lord Otto, former Hand of the King, obliged the command, leaving the chambers. The heavy wooden door closed behind him with a resounding thud, leaving the remaining council members in an uneasy silence. In the wake of the tense exchange, a palpable tension hung in the air, stifling any attempts at conversation. The councilmen exchanged furtive glances, each seemingly lost in their own thoughts, unsure of how to proceed in the wake of the king's outburst.
Maera felt a mix of emotions swirling within her, a combination of apprehension, frustration, and a deep-seated concern for the state of the realm. The weight of the ongoing war, coupled with the discord among the king's advisors, weighed heavily on her shoulders, casting a shadow over the once bustling chamber. Despite her efforts to remain composed, she couldn't shake the feeling of unease that settled over her, a stark reminder of the tumultuous times in which they lived.
As Aegon set his sights on Aemond, Maera's heart quickened with apprehension, fearing the king's wrath for her husband's earlier reaction. She watched intently, her gaze locked on the scene unfolding before her, as Aegon stood before Aemond with an air of authority that belied his stature. The tension in the room was palpable as Aegon looked down at the pin of the Hand of the King, still in his hand. Maera's breath caught in her throat as she watched, uncertain of what the king's intentions were. But then, to her surprise and relief, Aegon secured the pin to Aemond's doublet, an unexpected gesture that left the prince visibly taken aback.
“Don’t fuck this up,” was all Aegon said to his brother, before stepping back to his seat at the table and swigging his goblet of wine. The room erupted into murmurs and whispers as the significance of Aegon's actions sank in. A mixture of emotions washed over Maera as she observed the exchange, relief flooding through her at the realization that Aegon was not intending to punish her husband. Instead, it seemed he was bestowing a significant honor upon Aemond, elevating him to the esteemed position of Hand of the King.
Maera's heart swelled with pride for her husband, a sense of awe washing over her as she watched him accept the pin, his expression a mix of surprise and determination. She wondered to herself if the words she had said to Aegon all those days ago had actually registered with him. In that moment, Maera felt a glimmer of hope amidst the chaos, a flicker of optimism for the future of House Targaryen and the realm as a whole. As Aegon finished downing his glass of wine, the attention of the council was once again drawn to him as he addressed them with renewed determination.
"Right, we need a change of strategy. But quite frankly, I'm exhausted after today's events," Aegon declared, rolling his neck until it clicked. "So, I will make my main concerns known for you all to adhere to before I retire. The finer details," he paused, placing a hand on Aemond's shoulder, eliciting a huff from the One-Eyed Prince, "will be handled by my brother."
The members of the Small Council nodded in agreement, their attention turning to Ser Tyland as he began to take notes, and to Ser Criston as he rose from his seat to roll out a map upon the wooden table. The intricate details of Westeros were displayed on a large piece of parchment, each region and territory clearly marked. With precision, Ser Arryk stepped forward, placing two different types of figures on the table: one representing the Greens, the other the Blacks. With meticulous care, he positioned them in the appropriate territories, each move calculated and strategic.
Maera watched on, her mind buzzing with thoughts and concerns. She observed the proceedings with a sense of confusion, still unsure of why she was being privy to such sensitive information. Yet, she couldn’t shake the feeling that with Aegon’s declarations, the reason for her presence would soon become clear.
Aegon's finger traced the path to Storm's End on the map, his voice commanding as he addressed the council. "Lord Borros has more men to spare to the effort but will not provide them until the marriage pact is sealed," he declared, his gaze locking onto his youngest brother, Daeron, who sat with a look of hesitation.
Turning his attention to Daeron, Aegon issued his directive with unwavering determination. "Fly down to Storm's End and pick one of his girls. I do not care which one. Wed her, bed her, put a child in her." Daeron began to protest, but Aegon cut him off with a dismissive wave of his hand. "Yes, Daeron, we are all aware of your limp cock," he said with a chuckle. "Maester, give something to my brother that can be administered when he gets there, as to not disappoint the poor Lady."
Daeron growled in frustration, pushing himself up from the table and storming out of the chamber, prompting Dowager Queen Alicent to rise from her seat and hurriedly follow after her youngest son, her expression filled with concern. Undeterred, Aegon pressed on, his gaze now fixated on the Crownlands on the map. "The Realm is divided, and our enemies are too close for comfort," he remarked, his voice laced with urgency.
With a flick of his purple gaze, Aegon directed his attention to Ser Criston Cole, the Lord Commander of the Kingsguard, who stood nearby observing the map. "Lord Commander, approach the Black factions near Kings Landing and execute these treasonous Lords," he commanded, his tone uncompromising. "Surely the heirs of these Houses will see sense. If not, eradicate the entire fucking House if needs be." The gravity of Aegon's words hung heavy in the air as the councilors absorbed the weight of his directives, the fate of the realm resting precariously in their hands.
Ser Criston furrowed his brow, his gaze fixed on the map as he contemplated the potential repercussions of executing the Black factions' allies near King's Landing. "Rhaenyra's forces will come to these Houses' aid if she hears we are executing her allies that are closest to the Capital. That could spur her on to come for the Keep," he cautioned, his voice heavy with concern.
At the Lord Commander’s revelation, Maera's eyes widened in alarm, her heart pounding in her chest with a mixture of fear and uncertainty. Would Rhaenyra truly come for them in Kings Landing? The thought sent shivers down her spine, and she couldn't help but feel a creeping sense of dread at the prospect of facing the full force of the Blacks' fury.
Aegon's acknowledgment of Maera marked the first time he had directly addressed her since the council began. "Our Mayflower has ensured House Stokeworth and House Rosby by corresponding with their wives and daughters. Who knew women could sway their husbands and fathers so?" he remarked, his tone holding a hint of surprise.
Maera raised an eyebrow at the slightly backhanded compliment from the King, her thoughts racing as she processed his words. Glancing beside her, she caught Aemond's subtle smirk, a silent acknowledgment of pride in his wife's accomplishments.
Suppressing the urge to retort, Maera forced a diplomatic smile as she replied to Aegon. "You honor me, your Grace, but these are only two Houses," she began, her tone measured as she addressed the King. Standing from her seat, she stepped closer to the map, her eyes scanning the figures representing the Black factions in the Crownlands. "There are more Blacks in the Crownlands than Greens," she pointed out, her voice carrying a note of caution.
Aegon's gaze lingered on Maera for a moment, his expression unreadable as he absorbed her words. The weight of the impending decisions hung heavy in the air, each councilor acutely aware of the pivotal role they played in shaping the fate of the realm. Scratching his chin thoughtfully, the King’s eyes scanned the map before cautiously picking up a piece representing the Green forces and placing it in the vicinity of King's Landing. "Then we move the forces down from Harrenhal and divide them throughout the Crownlands. This will ensure that, should an attack come from Rhaenyra's forces to aid those treasonous Houses, we will be ready," he declared, his tone resolute.
Ser Tyland, the Master of Ships, spoke up next, his finger tracing the previous spot where the figurine once lay on the map. "My King, our forces in Harrenhal greatly deter an attack from the North and the Black factions of the Riverlands. We were lucky to secure it before Prince Daemon or Prince Jacaerys in the first place, thanks to Prince Aemond's prompt surveillance."
Maera glanced up at her husband, Aemond, who was intently studying the map, his expression a mask of concentration and determination. His presence exuded a sense of authority, and Maera couldn’t help but feel a swell of pride at the sight of her husband taking on such a crucial role in the council’s deliberations.
Ser Tyland continued, his tone filled with concern. "Harrenhal is our last line of defense before the Blacks enter the Crownlands. Should we really pull our forces from there and leave ourselves so vulnerable to attack?"
Aegon's response came swiftly, his voice confident. "Aha, my Lord, you are right. Which is precisely why I will send my brother to once again patrol Harrenhal on Vhagar and prevent the Blacks from invading from the North.”
The realization that he would be sent away struck Maera like a blow, filling her with a deep sense of unease. She couldn’t bear the thought of being separated from him, especially now, when she carried their child within her. A knot formed in Maera’s stomach as she contemplated the implications of Aemond’s absence. The uncertainty of war loomed large, and the prospect of facing it without her husband by her side filled her with a profound sense of vulnerability. She knew that Aemond’s duty to the realm would inevitably call him away, but that didn’t make the prospect any easier to accept.
Yet it was what happened next that was even more shocking, when Aemond replied to his brother’s, his King’s request with a simple and firm “No.”
Aemond's refusal elicited a stunned silence in the council chamber, the tension palpable as all eyes turned to the one-eyed Prince. Aegon's brows furrowed in disbelief, his surprise evident in his tone as he challenged Aemond's decision with a sharp "No?!”
Maera watched her husband closely, her heart pounding in her chest as she silently pleaded with him to tread carefully. With a subtle shake of her head, she urged him not to provoke the King further, knowing the volatile nature of the situation.
But Aemond remained resolute, explaining his reasoning with a calm determination. "For a few minor Houses in the Crownlands, we should not uproot our main defenses. If we face retaliation from the execution of the Black factions, then so be it. But I am not leaving King's Landing unless absolutely necessary."
Aegon's response was swift, his tone tinged with frustration. "Your King is telling you it is necessary, Aemond," he growled, a hint of amusement flickering in his eyes. "I thought you would have… missed Harrenhal anyway. You have not been there in over five moons."
Aemond frowned deeply at his brother, his face like thunder as he countered, "You appoint a new Hand then immediately send him away? How can I best serve the Realm if I am away from the Keep?"
Aegon reasoned with a hint of impatience. "Plenty of Hands have headed into war, Aemond," he retorted, his gaze unwavering.
Lord Jasper Wylde interjected, his voice measured as he added his perspective to the debate. "I would agree with my son-in-law that Rhaenyra may not come to these minor Houses' defense right away," he began, addressing the King respectfully. "He has also just been given this prestigious honor of Hand of the King, Your Grace. He should know the role better before heading out to aid our forces."
The council chamber was filled with a tense silence as the gravity of the situation hung heavy in the air, each member grappling with the weight of their decisions and the implications for the realm. Aegon's mocking hum in response to Lord Jasper's interjection only added to the tension in the chamber, his gaze fixed firmly on Aemond as he addressed his younger brother once more.
"My brother and I both know why he does not wish to return to Harrenhal, especially now that he is married," Aegon remarked, his tone dripping with implication.
Aemond's warning tone hinted at underlying tension between the brothers, a dynamic that Maera couldn't quite decipher. She glanced around the room, noting the varied reactions of the council members. Ser Tyland, Maester Orwyle, and Lord Jasper appeared oblivious to the underlying conflict, their attention focused on the strategic discussion. Ser Criston's jaw tensed, his focus unwavering on the map spread out before them.
But it was Lord Larys's demeanor that caught Maera's attention. His eyes twinkled with delight as he leaned on his cane, a knowing smile playing at his lips. Maera felt a chill run down her spine at the realization that Larys was privy to whatever discord simmered between the brothers.
Before the tension could escalate further, Aegon's voice cut through the awkward silence, his tone commanding. "Now, Aemond, enough of this foolishness," he admonished, attempting to steer the conversation back on track. "I am sure, by how cunt-struck you are, that Maera is an honorable wife and that she will—"
"My wife is with child," Aemond declared firmly, , his revelation causing a collective gasp to ripple through the council chamber. Maera's heart skipped a beat as their private news was laid bare before the assembled councilmen. "I will not leave her."
Aegon's gaze shifted to Maester Orwyle, seeking confirmation of Aemond's declaration. The Maester's gentle nod affirmed the truth of Aemond's words, further solidifying the weight of their announcement. Though Maera refrained from scanning the room, she couldn't escape the weight of her father's gaze upon her. Despite his composed demeanor, she sensed a flicker of pride in his eyes. The realization dawned on her—should their child be born a male, he would be a contender for the throne, a thought that sent a shiver down her spine.
With a determined resolve, Maera addressed the council, cutting through the tension with her abrupt words. "Another weakness Rhaenyra can exploit unless we act quickly," she declared, her tone commanding attention.
Aegon's response was swift, snapping his fingers in Maera's direction with an air of approval. "Exactly, goodsister. See? She understands!" he exclaimed, turning his gaze to Aemond in expectation of agreement. But Aemond's expression remained steadfast, his decision to remain in the capital unwavering.
Exasperated, Aegon rolled his eyes before addressing the room once more. "We will wait for the outcome of the executions. Should there be any news of retaliation, Aemond, you will go without question," he declared, his tone leaving no room for argument. Aemond nodded in acceptance, resigned to the inevitability of his duty. What more could he do in the face of his brother's command?
Aegon's attention then turned to Maera, a shift in his demeanor signaling a new topic of discussion. "Well, this joyous news brings me to my final concern," he began, his words carrying a weight of responsibility. "Mayflower, my children remain shaken after those monsters murdered their brother. And I’m told that you were the only one who managed to get Jaehaera to talk."
Maera's frown deepened as she struggled to grasp the implications of Aegon's words. "Jaehaera and Maelor need a mother's care," he continued, his tone laden with expectation. "And Helaena is in no fit state to raise them as a mother should. I am giving them to you as your wards. Consider it practice for when your own child arrives.”
Notes: ok so big chapter, lots of political movements in here. Believe it or not this was double the length but like who da fuq wants to read 8k words about war strategy? I don’t. So, more details about strategy to be sprinkled in the next few chapters. Keep your eyes peeled 👀
Tags: @blue-serendipity @marvelescvpe @manipulatixe @abecerra611 @shesjustanothergeek @watercolorskyy @0eessirk8
Thank you so much for reading! Comments, feedback, likes, and reblogs are greatly appreciated 🖤
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