The Golden Stag

ARC: 1. Currents and whirlpools

.....VARYS..... 295AC

He knew arrogance was a man's undoing so he always maintained discipline, always humble and diligent in his work.

He had worked for Aerys Targaryen, whispered in his ears what he had believed to be seeds of rebellion that Raeghar was sowing, serving the king and the kingdom, hoping that his work would do good.

It had brought war.

He didn't account for the madness Aerys had in him, the arrogance of Raeghar, the fury of the stag. As he had watched the blameless young Stark strange himself to death to reach his father, he had known, that even the best of intentions could bring dire results.

When Robert claimed the throne, he had knelt as all others did, serving another king at another time. He had hoped the changes would come, the loss of his beloved would make Robert a man who saw things, understood loss and pain, and sympathized with those who suffer under the shadow of the throne.

The day never came.

Varys waited, serving the kingdom in his own way, never wanting for material or glory, only serving.

He looked at the small roll of the parchment in his hands and sighed, his eyes looked far to the narrow sea. He wondered what should he do.

Should Robert learn of this, he would ask for their head, Varys was sure. That anger in him hadn't died, Robert was still bitter that the prince and the princess had escaped the sack of Dragonstone.

Varys himself had contributed to it, but could he let those blameless children die? He had whispered to Ser Willem Darry of the incoming attack and asked him to flee to Essos with the prince and now he saw another path, the golden stag, the bastard lion.

Varys cared not for his progeny, the prince was smart and intelligent and careful, and he had the makings of a king.
In his aptitude for swordplay, he was sure the prince would easily contest with the likes of Maegor the Cruel, Daemon the Dragonknight, and Ser Arthur Dayne.

Varys fiddled with the parchment on his fingers.

In politics and holding the court he was like Jaeherys, he listened to those who spoke, took council but made his own decisions. His friends were many and few denied him their company. He was loved.

Varys sighed. Daenerys and Viserys were in Myr, he had come to learn. Improvised and wondering, they were not doing good and word was Viserys was claiming to be the king of seven kingdoms, searching for those who would rally behind his claim.

Should he reach out to them? Varys was having the thoughts but he didn't act impulsively. Aegon was now under Jon Connington's care, rising through the ranks of the golden company. That could be another path he could make.

Varys knew things but still, the unease in his didn't settle.

There were currents flowing in the dark now. Strings being pulled here and there but to what end Varys was unaware for the first time.

There were no longer orphans in the streets that he could pick up and train to be his little birds.

In most of the cities of the kingdom, there now were orphanages funded by the Fox, they picked up strays, gave them homes, and taught them in arithmetic, and languages like how lords and ladies are taught. He gave them work and made them capable, there were still strays but they were few and far in between.

Now the Fox had made this school in King's Landing, a bastardized Citadel of Oldtown. He paid maesters and learned men to tutor while low-born and common folks sent their kids to learn from these men, all in charity.