Game of Thrones: StormBorn

The hand of the king rolled out of bed, groaning as his back popped with the strain. He was old, and he felt it more every day. He dressed himself in his fine suit and acted the part of the Hand for a disinterested king. A thankless task, and one that left his own lands bereft of a proper lord.

If Tywin Lannister's father hadn't made him a monster, then Jon was sure that this job would have done it anyway. Kings landing was like a bitter poison, it seeped into you even as you tried to maintain some semblance of order over it.

'and speaking of poison...' He made his way down from his quarters in the tower of the hand into the Small-Council chambers, where the real rulers of the realm gathered. Unusually, he was not the first one present, and he glanced at the two men who had apparently arrived before him only to stare each other down.

"No.," the King's brother said, a tone of an imminent threat to his voice. "You will keep your paws off of my son's businesses in the future or I will see you thrown from this tower. Your duty lies elsewhere Lord Baelish, I suggest you see to it."

"I have no idea what you're talking about." The slightly younger man said, pleading his innocence. "I only maintain the treasury."

"We both know that those men answered to you." The Baratheon looked up from Petyr, noticing Jon and nodding silently. "Lord Arryn. It appears your choice for Master of Coin was a poor one."

"Now I hardly think that's fair, what evidence do you have against me?, I will hear it."

"My son's men have been rejecting your bribes for months at this point."

"I have simply been inviting them out for dinner. That does not prove I would order an attack on them."

"Dinner and whoring both no doubt. I am glad that they are men of real conscience, else they would have surely fallen prey to your foolishness."

"Your brother the king seems to view it as more than-"

"Lord Stannis. Petyr. Please cease this bickering." Jon finally shouted over the two. His eyes scanning between theirs. "Lord Stannis, I must ask that you refrain from making such accusations in future without enough evidence to support them, and Petyr, I have told you before that running brothels and street-gangs is unbecoming of a Master of Coin."

Petyr had the decency to look abashed, while Stannis if anything glared harder. He looked about to say something when another voice spoke out at the table.

"Quite, though I do not believe it was Lord Baelish who gave those men orders to harangue your son's, ah, what is the term his company uses? "Employees"?" Jon turned to see the spider, looking much as he always did, far too smug to be up to anything good. Still, he did not doubt the truth in the man's words. Petyr wasn't stupid enough by all accounts to pick a fight with the master of ships. Everyone was keenly aware of the glistening sword that hung at the Lord of Dragonstone's side, as well as the wealth he had supposedly found alongside it.

His teeth grinding, Stannis turned to the Master of Whispers, before he seemed to think better of it and his anger lessened. He nodded sharply, though he still sent a parting glare against the Master of Coin.

The Small Council lapsed into an uneasy silence as they waited for the arrival of their last regular members Selmy arrived quickly, and unsurprisingly Pycelle took longer than was at all reasonable to come bumbling into the chamber.

Tapping his finger on the desk, Jon glanced around, clearing his throat.

"The Small Council is now in session."

There were nods around the table, and he felt some relief that the men could at least manage to shut up for a moment to think for the good of the realm.

"The first object on our table today is the recent fire in Flea Bottom. While the suspects have been arrested, it is unclear what their intentions for starting it in the first place we're at the moment."

The various Lords at the table glanced around, such discussion would normally belong to the Master of Laws, but none was present at the moment, so the position's tasks fell to the small council.

"You fear co-conspirators?" Ser Barristan Selmy asked, in many ways the Kingsguard commander was wasted as a bodyguard. Having long served the Kings of Westeros he had a good mind for law and justice.

"Indeed. Do you have any insight Varys?"

The old Eunuch glanced at the knight for a moment before nodding to Jon. "I have suspicions, but I cannot yet confirm anything. The cult of R'hllor has become more active in the city of late, and both of the suspects are members. My sources speak that they seek a great fire as a tribute to their Red God, but whether that is their true goal here I do not know."

"Is a purge necessary then? Drive them out of the city back to wherever they came?" Petyr asked plainly, but Jon had to shake his head.

"Better we simply keep eyes on them, do not let them achieve their arson, but if we purge their cult they may well go underground, and in Flea-Bottom that would make them very hard to properly route indeed."

"A sensible plan. I agree." the Lord of ships said, his hand resting on his sword-handle, perhaps unconsciously, as if daring anyone to challenge his ruling.

None did, the measure past quickly, and Jon was thankful for a moment before he remembered the next item on his list.

"So, the organizing for Prince Joffrey's tenth name-day tournament is going to be…"

Somedays, Jon wondered if he had made the right choice becoming Robert's Hand.

Every time he concluded that yes, he had needed to do it, the realm needed order and, moreover, Robert needed him.

Every time he asked, he found that he had to think longer to reach that answer.