an unexpected meeting Who: Jaehaerys Targaryen, Elia Martell When: Day 15 -- evening Where: A tavern, somewhere in Kings Landing Rating: PG-13 Status: closed
His neck was killing him. So was his back. The streets were still too empty, the city too quiet, now that the sound of hammers and shovels had stopped. A few crews still worked by torchlight outside the city walls, but most had stopped, leaving the day's dead covered over with a layer of earth. He rolled his head and stretched as he waited for the wench to bring his mug of ale. Jaehaerys didn't worry about the fever; it was hard to worry about dying when you were supposed to be dead already.
Stark's men were out alongside the Gold Cloaks but even though they were helping, Jaers heard the whispers of several men who didn't like the idea. Northron ways were strange, the men too silent and grave. Not that anyone in Kings Landing wasn't silent and grave right now, but the differences remained. So far Jaer had heard the theory that the plague was a punishment for naming the wrong king, for allowing the worship of the Old Gods, for worshipping anyone aside from R'hlor, for woshipping anyone aside from the Seven, for Queen Aeria's Dornish whoreblood touching the throne (that particular man was silenced now), for the guilds gaining power, for the sailors taking whores, for the populace drinking too much, and about a thousand other reasons.
The most popular theory seemed to be a general feeling that William Stark was somehow responsible not only for the plague but had engineered the deaths of the royal family so he could take the throne, possibly by strange Northron magic. Jaehaerys just raised a glass and tried to look as if he took it seriously. It was nice to know he was missed, but that William Stark had done all this single-handedly was a bit much. Oh, taking the throne was certainly Lord Stark's doing, but the assassins were not something he would ascribe to House Stark... at least he didn't think so.
Jaehaerys leaned back and rested his boots on the table. From his spot in the corner, back to the wall and facing the door, he could watch who came in. Maybe something would turn up tonight. With any luck, one of his uncles' spies would come in with news...