House Avalon

[Princess Ariel Targaryen]

Emelia looked at Aranya. "Oh, the usual. Mostly, the problem is men as always. Jerard Manderly in particular is a fool; seems to think that chastity is the measure of a woman's ability, and he tried very lamely to insult me." She grinned. "Of course, given how I pride in my utter lack of chastity, I can't very well challenge him for speaking of it."

"Other than that, we're still arguing about the fate of Tallahar, and whether I can have any of the prisoners to feed my snakes. Oh, and the regency issue is a lovely circus; virtually everyone -but- Piers Bettley has been put forth as a candidate and I'm half-tempted to end the mess by suggesting that the Council put Rhodri in as regent over his objections. He's the only candidate who both has a significant chance of success and who I could recommend without any reservations at all."

She yawned and lowered her voice. "Oh. And Piers Bettley is, of course, being impossible over the other betrothal. But that's strictly according to formula; at this point we're ritually threatening to kill each other."

[Deleted]

Aranya snorted again. "Jerard Manderly - aye, I heard about what he was saying. Rhod told me. What an idiot. I don't give a fuck who the Regent sleeps with, as long as they have a legitimate claim and can do their job. Don't worry about his 'insults' - from what I heard, his whole argument is a bit idiotic. Why is he so worried about it, anyway? It's not like he's Callen, for gods' sake."

More skewers were served, with a creamy, lemony dipping sauce. Aranya took her second skewer and dipped it delicately before biting in. "You are set on that snake pit, aren't you? Tallahar ought to have two options, in my mind - either die by the sword or go to the Wall. Honestly, I'd rather he went to the Wall than be executed, Emelia. He is an excellent fighter, and the Wall will have need of excellent fighters."

She rolled her eyes at Emelia's news about the Regency. "I know, and I'm not surprised. Rhodri will not consider being Regent, though, and I don't really want him to either. It's a hard and dangerous job, and he did not enjoy being the Hand. And he does not have a legitimate claim to the Regency, even if he wanted it - he's not Prince Steffon, Prince Andry or Queen Anya, who are by blood and marriage the royal family. I just hope the vote is made soon - it's time we had some real semblance of stability. And while I love and admire my cousin dearly, I don't want to see him anywhere near that barbed throne, not for any glory in the world."

Aranya paused in her devouring of the skewer, grinning at Emelia's account of Piers Bettley. "I can't say I'm surprised. He can be quite maddening when he wants to, and sometimes when he doesn't want to."

[Princess Ariel Targaryen]

Emelia shrugged. "I happen to agree with Horas on this one. Right now, legitimacy is irrelevant and the best should be sitting the throne. But then, right now I don't think there's a one on the Council who wants the one best suited to rule to sit the Regent's chair." She grinned brightly at that one, then her face turned down. "Leaving Anya as the best alternative. Ah well."

"You're right about Tallahar," she added after she finished off her first skewer and her third small sip of wine. "But Rhodri wants to let the poor guy off. Still, you're right that the Black is the place for Lord Idiot." She then considered the observation on Piers Bettley.

"To most people, Piers Bettley's threats wouldn't be maddening, but downright frightening. He merely forgets that he's trying to intimidate the fearless, and so he shades into "annoying."

[Deleted]

"I don't think so," Aranya said. "A Regent of the realm has to be of the blood royal. It's the best way to ensure that no random person can try for it - I don't mean you or anyone in particular, Emelia, but I mean in general - and there are two good candidates apart from Anya. Prince Steffon's name hasn't even been put forward, yet he has a better claim to the Regency than any outsider. And although Prince Andry is a bit too royal for my taste, I still have great respect for him. He is a skilled warrior, a strong leader and an exceptionally honorable man. He would make an admirable Regent. And Queen Anya, for all her faults, is a strong and intelligent woman, and she would not betray King Rickon's interests. I like her too."

Aranya sipped a glass of white wine. "I would have voted for you, Emelia, if you were of the blood royal. I will give my support in this betrothal, I promise."

She suddenly frowned. "Hang on. Why the fuck is Jerard Manderly even in this council? Is he an elected councillor, or did he just tag along to suck Lord Bolton's cock?"

[Princess Ariel Targaryen]

Emelia shrugged at Aranya. "M'love, it looks like the Regent may not be of the blood royal this time around," she responded. "Horas Blackwood is also on the table with Randal's support. And if Horas is on the table, then..." She smiled grimly. "Aranya, at this point I'm growing less and less concerned with breeding, even if I'm not going to go Callen's way and have the smallfolk run the government. Callen's blood didn't make -him- worthy of the Throne, Baldwin's blood is showing a dismal track record with one star to show for it, and we're bastards of proven worth elevated because we knew what we were doing."

She shook her head. "As for Manderly...beats me. I have no idea who's sitting where on the council anymore. I'm sure you could ask Piers."

[Deleted]

"I know Horas put his name forward," Aranya said. "And I'm not trying to say bastard blood is lower than royal blood. I just know that it is better for the stability of the kingdoms if a Baratheon is the Regent. There will be too much of a tug-of-war if anyone else is chosen Regent. Eventually it will lead to trouble." As usual, Aranya spoke bluntly without bothering to hide the implications of what she was saying.

"If that fucker is allowed to join council about this, then so am I."

[Princess Ariel Targaryen]

Emelia chuckled at Aranya. "Too late, Aranya. There already is a tug-of-war going on. There was in Callen's day, and just as I thought I had things secured, the moron got himself killed. I don't see how a Baratheon will secure the throne better than it already is. But either way, we can disagree on this. My chances are null even if we expand the list."

She looked at Aranya. "We support the Queen, then?"

[Deleted]

"It's not too late," Aranya said. "If Bolton can drag Manderly into the council, I'm coming too."

She smiled at Emelia's words. "Not every Baratheon is as...willful and foolhardy as Callen was, gods rest his soul and everything. Prince Andry certainly isn't anyone to fuck with, and I always thought the Queen had brains. Prince Steffon is not such a strong man. He fancies himself a warrior, but my knights beat him to a pulp in a melee, and my cousin Ser Roland unhorsed him easily in the joust. Prince Steffon likes to court girls and play at being a courtier, but he is not what I'd look for in Regent."

Aranya shrugged. "I'm not sure if we just support the Queen. We'll see soon enough." She leaned back and admired the handsome, stately inn. Dacey had retired to a discreet distance, flirting with another guest. It struck Aranya that this was a remarkably discreet inn, despite the fact that she and Emelia had been discussing politics and somewhat sensitive matters.

"Will you stay on in King's Landing once this has all been decided, Emelia, even if you're not chosen?"

[Princess Ariel Targaryen]

Emelia shrugged at Aranya. "I'm suggesting we support the Queen over Andry, despite her, ah, wardrobe malfunction in the war room. I believe Andry may have too hard a sense of honor to be ideal for the regency." She smiled. "Unimpeachable honor is fine, but one has to make sure that one's wisdom keeps pace with it, or he'll trap himself in chains he can't break. Anya's more flexible in good ways."

She smiled at Aranya's expression. "This inn caters to the nobility, Anya. Its proprietor makes a business of being hard of hearing; it comes with the territory. The houses of pleasure in the Dornish Quarter are much the same way."

"I believe I'll take a run down to Sunspear after Doria's wedding. I need to make sure the rebuilding is going alright."

[Deleted]

Aranya laughed at the memory of Anya's wardrobe malfunction. "It didn't seem quite an accident to me," Aranya grinned. "Not after she had us clothe her ourselves. In any case, yes, I think you may have a point about Andry. Anya is quite the hard-headed, shrewd woman. And loyal to her children above all else. That alone makes her a good candidate."

Aranya glanced around House Avalon and smiled. "I'm not really used to these high-end inns. Whenever I went for a drink in King's Landing in the old days, it was at the old Merry Maid, where nothing was a secret and everyone was commonborn. It was a nice old place. Still, I like this inn a lot too."

"You do good work with that rebuilding, I must say. Have you summoned Princess Doria up here?"

[Princess Ariel Targaryen]

Emelia smiled. "Doria should be in within the week," she responded. "I'll explain to her in person the northern rules of the marriage game, and how to break her wedding vows the proper way." She shook her head in wry amusement.

"As for Anya, we both know she wants me as a lady-in-waiting. If she doesn't get the regency I'll extend her the same offer."

[Deleted]

"As if Jon would even notice," Aranya said dryly. "He can be so perceptive." She laughed at Emelia's next words. "The idea of either of you as lady-in-waiting to the other is as good as any mummer's show. People would line up to watch."

[Princess Ariel Targaryen]

Emelia grinned at Anya. "Yes. Including the magnificent northern custom of all the ladies in the house piling into the same bed for warmth." She chuckled. "Which I've been quite happy to adopt, though not merely to keep warm. Let's see, I've adopted bedchamber customs from the Summer Islands, the Andals, who next..."

"I know! The Ironborn. How would you like to be a salt wife?"

[Deleted]

Aranya grinned. "I'm more like to take a pair of salt husbands myself."

[Horas]

Symond the singer enters the inn, wearing fine clothes but a patchwork cloak. He sidles up to the bar and asks to speak with the owner.