The Unyielding Stag (Game of Thrones AU/Invincible)
Chapter 48: Choices

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A/N: Varys POV as Axel finally announces just who his Queen will be!

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“Where in the Seven Hells are Petyr and Pycelle? They’re both late!”

Lord Arryn’s irritation receives no response from the other three men in the Small Council Chambers. The King sits quietly at the head of the table, looking uncharacteristically dour and morose. Varys, meanwhile, simply smiles placidly with his hands folded in the arms of his robes. And of course, Ser Arys Oakheart, Lord Commander of the Kingsguard, stands silently and at the ready near the door just like always.

Admittedly, it is a rather sorry showing for the Small Council today. Lord Stannis is off at Storm’s End still getting his new lands in order, as he’d been on and off again for months now. Meanwhile, Lord Davos is off on a voyage to Dragonstone.

That just leaves Lord Baelish, Grandmaester Pycelle, Lord Arryn, Lord Commander Oakheart, and Varys himself. And the King too of course, who Varys has it on good authority will be announcing his choice for Queen this fine morning.

It’s obvious from the dark look on Axel Baratheon’s face that he didn’t sleep very well. And honestly, Varys isn’t sure that the young King has made a choice, even now. Especially not with what the eunuch knows of Axel’s… extracurricular activities.

Varys often finds himself grateful that he doesn’t have those sorts of urges. To be controlled by one’s cock… well, he’s seen it be the ruin of many a man over the course of his life. And Axel Baratheon, for all that he’s trying to be the best King he can be and has already proven to be a better King than both of his predecessors… is only a man at the end of the day.

He might not have taken to whoring like Robert did, but if the things he got up to with the likes of Lady Stark and Lady Tyrell or Princess Arianne and Tyene Sand ever reached the wrong ears, there might very well be trouble.

That was why Varys had been running interference for Axel for some time now, making sure that not a single whisper of his bedroom antics made their way to the likes of Baelish or anyone else who would want to take advantage of the King’s… indiscretions.

Fortunately, it would seem that Lord Arryn had put his foot down for once. The Hand was notorious for going with the flow, trying his best not to disrupt the status quo, and letting Robert do whatever he wanted.

But no longer, apparently. Jon had grown weary of letting Kings do what they liked. And that meant Axel was going to have to choose. Even Varys couldn’t guess just who he was going to pick at this point… but then the Spymaster has been quite distracted recently by the consequences of his own foolish mistakes.

Varys didn’t necessarily regret sending the order to Ser Jorah to assassinate Daenerys, her newborn dragons, and her Red Priestess, in that order. Even though the King had said no assassination attempts, Varys knew it had to be done anyways for the good of the Realm and for the good of Axel’s reign. Really, the Master of Whispers’ only regret was entrusting such an important task to a man who had turned out to ultimately be a fool.

Ser Jorah had failed in his task. He had failed to kill Daenerys Targaryen, he had failed to kill even a single dragon whelp, and he’d of course failed to kill her Red Priestess for good measure. Failure all around.

Admittedly, even weeks after he’d received the first reports of Ser Jorah’s failure and subsequent execution, details of how it actually happened were sparse. And Varys had been reaching out to all of his contacts, trying his best to find out what was going on over there in Essos.

Indeed, these last several weeks had resulted in quite a few sleepless nights for the Spymaster. Between hiding the King’s indiscretions from the court at large and trying to investigate what was happening with the Targaryen and her Red Priestess, he’d barely had the time for anything or anyone else, including Baelish.

For instance, he knew that the Master of Coin had been up to something of late, but he’d had to put off investigating more deeply for the time being with his attention split in other directions. Besides, Baelish was running scared at this point and Varys knew it.

With a couple nudges here and there from Varys, Axel and Jon were closing in on Baelish, weeding out the corruption in the city and tearing down the sordid empire that the conniving Master of Coin had built. It wouldn’t be long before he slipped up and they caught him in a lie he could no longer get out of.

Varys would be glad to see the other man go, truth be told. Back when the eunuch hadn’t been sure that a lengthy Baratheon Dynasty was what he wanted, the machinations and corruption of Petyr Baelish had been useful in keeping the Realm unstable in the event that a Targaryen Restoration proved necessary.

But now with everything flipped on its head and Daenerys Targaryen representing the very real threat of a sorcerous lineage taking the Iron Throne, Baelish was simply in the way. Especially given what Varys HAD been able to hear from Essos.

While he couldn’t exactly find out how Jorah Mormont had failed to so much as kill one of his targets when said targets were nothing but a girl, a woman, and three dragon hatchlings, he had at least found out two very important pieces of information in the aftermath.

First, Khal Drogo, Daenerys Targaryen’s Dothraki Husband, had been truly enraged by the attempt on his wife’s life. Apparently, the two were far closer to one another than Varys had ever imagined them becoming. The Khal had taken the assassination as a personal insult and sworn to take his khalasar to Westeros, across the Narrow Sea, no matter the cost.

… That also may have had less to do with Drogo’s love for Daenerys and more to do with the second piece of information though. Namely, the fact that Daenerys Targaryen was apparently pregnant with the Dothraki Khal’s child at this point.

Would Varys have still given the order for her to die if he’d known she was with child? Yes, undoubtedly. But it did change things significantly all the same. If the Last Targaryen was pregnant, than that presented the very real possibility of a Dynasty of Sorcery and Magic. And that was the last thing Varys wanted to happen.

He'd been wrestling with it since he received the news a couple days ago. Specifically, he hadn’t been entirely sure how to break it to the King and his Hand. Did he tell them everything, including that he’d tried to have Daenerys assassinated against Axel’s direct instructions? Or did he simply tell them of her pregnancy and Drogo’s intentions of turning his khalasar towards Westeros at long last?

… In the end, he’d come to realize that they were only in this mess because of his subterfuge. And if he truly wanted Axel to be the best King that he could be, Varys was going to have to tell him the truth, even if it potentially resulted in his execution.

He had already decided that he would tell them everything though, just in case his head truly did wind up leaving his shoulders afterwards. Not just about what was happening in Essos, but also the source of the corruption in King’s Landing. He would give them everything he knew about Baelish and all of the other moves being made by the Lords and Ladies of Westeros.

If Axel decided he needed to die afterwards, then so be it. At least Varys would know he’d prepared the young King as best as possible for what lay ahead.

… But first, he would wait for the arrival of Lord Baelish and Grandmaester Pycelle. He would wait for the King to announce his Queen, and then he would speak to Lord Arryn and the King alone about all that he knew. Though truth be told, if they all had to wait much longer, he might as well tell them both now and get it over with. It was just the three of them here after all, and still neither Pycelle nor Petyr were anywhere to be seen.

It was a little strange if he was being hone-

Just as the thought is passing through Varys’ head, Pycelle finally arrives. The infirm and decrepit Grandmaester shuffles into the room with the usual stuttering, stammered apologies on his lips.

“My s-sincerest a-apologies… I was held up for a little while l-longer than expected.”

More than a little disgruntled, Lord Arryn waves a hand through the air dismissively.

“It is of little matter, Grandmaester, seeing as you aren’t even the last one to the Small Council Chambers this time. Where IS Petyr at? It’s not at all usual for him to be this tardy. I might have to send a runner after him.”

“… It’s fine. We’ll wait a little longer first.”

The King breaks his silence just to say those words. From the conflicted look on Axel’s face, it’s obvious to Varys that he’s happy to let anything put off the purpose of this meeting for a little while longer. Given the way Lord Arryn stares at him for a long moment, he no doubt suspects the same.

“I know this isn’t easy, my King. But the decisions you have to make will often be hard. You can do this. I know you can. And prolonging this meeting won’t make things any simpler either.”

Axel looks petulant for a moment before letting out a sigh and waving his hand in the direction of his Lord Commander.

“Fine. Ser Arys, go find Petyr Baelish and bring him here immediately.”

The Kingsguard’s Lord Commander salutes and departs from the Small Council Chambers on his mission. At the same time, Pycelle grunts and groans and shuffles across the floor towards his usual chair like always. Meanwhile, Lord Arryn leans towards Axel, placing a hand on his arm and whispering quietly to him.

It's as the Lord of the Vale is giving the King a bit of an inspirational talk, however, that Varys’ eyes are drawn off to the side, something flickering in the sunlight coming in from the nearby windows. The Master of Whispers furrows his brow in confusion, staring somewhat baffled for a long moment before understanding begins to crystallize.

It’s a… thin string of sorts, a thread that’s almost invisible to the naked eye hovering at ankle height. And the reason that it’s becoming visible is because Grandmaster Pycelle seems to be disrupting the string with his movements, pulling on it as he makes his way towards his seat.

In fact… as Varys stares for a while longer, he realizes that the string is set up in such a way that ONLY Pycelle would intercept and disturb it while going towards his seat. The thread seems to wind around Pycelle’s chair in particular for a moment before disappearing under the table.

Lips curling down into a frown of consternation, Varys slowly leans over in his chair. The sounds of Lord Arryn struggling to cheer the King up and Grandmaester Pycelle sighing as he settles into his chair fade into nothing but background noise for him as they wait for the Lord Commander to return with their missing Master of Coin.

Instead, Varys’ focus is entirely on following the trembling, shaking string with his eyes until he’s half-turned over and looking under the length of the rather large Small Council Table.

There, he finds the strangest sight… a line of swaying small pots, hanging from a thicker rope that’s connected just barely to the thinner, more invisible string. As they sway back and forth, Varys has to squint and strain his eyes to try and make out any sort of identification. But once he sees it… well, it’s unmistakable.

After all, how many of these pots had he dealt with mere months ago after the death of King Robert and his sons? Not personally maybe, but the Master of Whispers had certainly laid eyes on enough pots of wildfire to be able to recognize the symbol of the Alchemist’s Guild on sight.

His eyes widen and his mouth opens, but it’s much too late. As Grandmaester Pycelle takes his seat, the invisible string snaps and that sets off a cascading effect that sends the swaying pots all falling down off of the rope to smash into the floor.

Varys has always been quick mentally if not physically. He therefore has just enough time to belatedly realize this must have been Baelish. He’d let himself get distracted, focusing on Axel’s dalliances and his own self-inflicted crisis brewing over in Essos. He hadn’t kept a close enough eye on the scheming Master of Coins.

Baelish must have decided they were too close to the truth. He must have decided to cut his losses and throw the Realm into chaos by killing off the King and the rest of the Small Council at the same time. How he expected to get away with it, Varys did not know. Nor would he ever get the chance to find out either.

For such an imbecilic blowhard of a fool to be his death, and for such base and selfish reasons as well… Varys straightens up in his chair, looking out into nothing as he lets out a rattling breath and three final words.

“How utterly vexing.”

And then the wildfire pots ignite and Varys’ vision fills green flames as the entirety of the Small Council Chambers violently explodes.

-x-X-x-

A/N: Boom.

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