Maegor's Holdfast - King's Bedchamber

The lights and the buzz from the streets of King's Landing could be heard all the way up to the king's bedchamber as the sun set. Despite the ongoing war there was life and joy among the smallfolk - the beloved Prince Rhaegar had won a stunning victory at the Blackwater Rush. Most of the rebel lords were either dead or captured, including Robert Baratheon himself. There were also rumors about the gathering of lords at Harrenhal - a mass execution of the rebel conspirators? A new great council? Was the Prince planning on usurping his royal father? No one could say, but either way it made no difference to the smallfolk. Peace was returning one way or the other, and with it a return to normalcy.

Aerys looked out from a window at his capital far below. The flickering lights of a thousand flames danced in his eyes, mesmerizing him to an unusual calm. His food taster had just left, leaving behind tonight's dinner - grilled lamb paired with a cup of arbor gold. The food taster was new after the previous one had been burned a month ago for trying to poison him - Aerys had a gift to find traitors and assassins, he could see it in their eyes. There were so few he could trust these days. Sooner or later everyone would betray him, it was only a matter of time. They feared him, and rightly so. He was the blood of Old Valyria reborn, not since Aegon the Conqueror had the Seven Kingdoms been blessed with one such as him.

The thought sparked an anger in him. Aerys threw the goblet of wine against the wall and stalked over to the hearth in his chamber. There were still embers burning, but not enough. Not enough to calm his mind. The painful thoughts were too intrusive, shaming and scolding him. He could hear the voices of his father and grandfather, then his friend Steffon. Then came the Darklyns, their mocking laughters turning to sizzling screams. It was too much, the ghosts would kill him. The King rushed over to a heavy metal chest, opening it to reveal several small, green bottles sitting in fine sand. He opened one bottle, took but a drop and let it fall on the embers. In the blink of an eye the room lit up like the day as green flames roared defiantly from the hearth.

Aerys carefully put back the bottle before sitting down in a chair, gazing at the flames from a safe distance. The voices dissipated one by one until all he could hear were the soothing whispers from the flames. The flames revealed the future of what to come and had never lied. Aerys had seen the frozen darkness that was just stiring from its long slumber in the north before it swallowed the world. Yet he had also seen salvation in the flames - three dragons, rising from a great funeral pyre.

Only Aerys was privy to the truth of the flames. The lickspittles could not be trusted, and neither could he trust Rhaegar - the boy had shown his true intentions with Varys' latest report. The King had always known, of course. But even the King could not execute his own kin without damning evidence. This gathering at Harrenhal... Aerys knew the implications well enough, and he would not let his treacherous offspring usurp HIS throne. He would rather rule over a kingdom of ash before seeing these traitors win.

His thoughts turned back to the green flames of wildfire, letting the warmth calm his tired body. It stirred something in his loins quite fiercely. Aerys rose and made his way over to the door where Jonothor Darry stood guard outside. Perhaps he would pay a visit to his sister tonight...