"You have counselors. Use them."
Surprisingly, arranging for the fracturing of a rival kingdom along ethnic lines took a lot less time than I had anticipated. Granted, much of the actual legwork of arranging the meeting and selecting collaborators had been taken care of beforehand, but I was still left with a considerable amount of time on my hands. Since I was not due to meet back up with my family for some time, I decided to try and catch up with some of my friends.
"-And then he collapsed!" Martyn Mooton declared, vigorously clapping Damon Darry on the shoulder to a polite round of laughter. "Folded like a poorly built tent when someone passes it a brisk walk!"
"Oh, like you've never been surprised in a melee," the other Riverman shot back. "Why, I recall back at Payne Hall, the tourney where you rode…"
"I am beginning to remember why I ensure the children are never privy to these talks of ours," I interrupted the story before it could get too scandalous. We were hardly alone in this particular corner of the gardens, slowly ambling through one of the paths lined with sculptures featuring seahorse imagery.
"Come now, we're here to celebrate, are we not?" he asked, turning around to face the rest of our little group. "Braxton, Corlys, please tell me you won't turn into men as dour as our prince when you wed."
"Oh, you never know," the eldest of my soon-to-be good-brothers said cheerfully. "Our betrotheds are near as pious as Princess Maegelle, after all. Mayhaps fatherhood will make us even more dour."
"More dour than Vaegon?" Braxton mimed a shudder at the thought. "I do not wish to imagine such horrors. Martyn, my friend, I beg of you, if I start demanding hippocras, just kill me."
"Or you might be just as wild as you have always been," I reassured him, a smile on my face. "Fatherhood has hardly tamed our friends, has it?"
"See? No reason at all to panic," Corlys said reassuringly, a slightly more smug smile on his face.
"I never said I was panicking," Braxton maintained. "Where are you getting panic? Are you sure you are not conflating me with yourself?"
"He is marrying a princess," I pointed out as we entered a more open area where a crowd had begun to form. "A bit of panic is to be expected when his good-father could have him killed for pairing the wrong type of wine with the fish. Arbor Gold would be best, incidentally."
"I know well enough to pair a white wine with fish, Vaegon," Corlys said, before changing the topic. "I saw Lord Yronwood arrive not too long ago. You think he might be willing to sell some of that timber his family is named after?"
"I do not see why not," I answered, mulling it over. The North had famous growths of ironwood, but the long distances made it an expensive commodity south of the Neck. If a cheaper alternative could be found… "If you can get a good price for it, you might be able to undercut northern exports."
"Tempting…" Corlys said, scratching his chin and looking thoughtful. I could almost see the coins piling up in his mind. "Good of you to recommend I invite him."
"Bah, enough talking trade!" Martyn said, trying to bring the conversation away from a topic he perceived as boring. His loss. There was plenty to coin to be made. "The wedding is on the morrow; we need to celebrate!"
"When you say 'celebrate', do you mean 'stupefy ourselves with wine'?" I asked. As much amusement as that promised, it was a bit early for such debauchery. The sun had yet to reach its peak, after all, and I still had my obligations to my family.
"Is there any other way?" Damon asked, a broad smile on his face. No doubt he missed the months from before my children were born. As did I, for that matter. The days when we could enjoy our youths had been good days. Unfortunately, all of us save for Corlys and Braxton were fathers, though some of us took that sacred duty a touch more seriously than others.
Tragically, I was saved from being a beacon of sanity in a sea of degeneracy by the sudden appearance of Maegelle. She strolled into the small plaza from another footpath, looking as calm and serene as ever, her gaze locking on to me, and her smile grew ever so slightly.
Oh, that was not good.
That was not her 'happy to see you' smile. That was her 'I have you now' smile, the kind of smile that promised entirely different things when out in public.
Not good things.
"Lord Velaryon," she addressed our host, bringing a halt to our little group. Oh, this was definitely not good. "My apologies, but I must deprive you of my husband's company for a little while."
"Of course," my friend said, bowing low but offering no protest. Of course not, she was not asking his permission, she was stating a fact. "I would not want to keep you two apart."
There was no need for me to speak. My acceptance was expected, after all, and that public perception was not entirely wrong. Time spent with Maegelle was always time well spent, though I did lament not being able to spend more time with my friends. Still, there was always the feast.
Maegelle and I linked arms and she slowly guided us towards the palace. Not the garden, the actual palace. The great manor that stood in the center of my soon-to-be good-brother's home, like a manse from King's Landing writ implausibly large. The area around it was largely empty, bringing me to break the silence.
"Did something happen?" I asked as we walked through the gatehouse that had been built into the ring of servants' quarters, decorated with a rainbow of floral garlands. Something must have happened if Maegelle had actively sought me out.
"Aemon has been moping all morning, though he tried to hide it," she said after a moment of thought. "Did your talk with him not go well?"
"Well enough," I answered. "Though I did have to leave early to meet with another guest."
She knew about my plan with the soon-to-be King Yronwood, of course.
"Did you not have enough time to apologize?" She asked, and I nearly froze. Maegelle most certainly noticed before continuing. "You did remember to apologize, did you not?"
"I did not think it was necessary," I said carefully, earning a sigh of pure exasperation. "He looked fine! Better than ever, really, and I thought he had already forgiven me. Apologizing would needlessly dredge up the past."
"Our brother used to have a much finer nose," she reminded me as we passed through the wide-open main doors of the central manor. Since the guests were too busy enjoying the delights in the gardens, the brightly lit main hall was left deserted. "And less need for new teeth. Until you broke them. No doubt he remembers that fact every time he looks in the mirror, especially if he thinks you do not regret injuring him so greatly. An apology is the least you could do."
"You may have a point," I conceded as she brought me into the eastern wing of the manor, to the chambers we had been assigned. Aemon's injuries had not seemed so extensive, but I had never asked after them… "Where are the children? Are they getting along?"
"Playing with the dragons," Maegelle reassured me. "Smoke and Sundance love the attention and Rhaenys is enjoying having some younger relatives around."
"All the more reason to reconcile, then. Fine, I will apologize," I observed, giving a defeated sigh before looking around. The hallway was familiar, but not our assigned chambers. Judging by the spacing of the doors, these rooms were significantly larger. Meeting rooms of some sort, mayhaps? "Maegelle, where are we?"
"On our way to apologize," she answered, swinging open a door to reveal Aemon and Baelon seated at a low table, deep in hushed conversation. The words faded as they noticed us, with the younger of my brothers looking far happier to see me than the other, a broad smile on his face.
Devious, Maegelle. So very devious.
"Vaeg!" Baelon greeted me with his usual boisterous cheer, giving me a hearty clap on the shoulder. "What's this I hear about a war in Dorne?"
Oh lovely. It appeared Aemon could not keep a secret, either.
For the briefest of moments, I was tempted to tell him that it would be explained later. That it was not important, that Father would give him a far better explanation after the wedding. But that was exactly the kind of thinking that had forced Maegelle to intervene and put a stop to both of our plans for the morning.
That was exactly why Aemon was glaring at me.
"Before I say anything, please remember that nobody outside of Sunspear is supposed to know about that," I warned Baelon, who had the grace to blush. He had always been bad with secrets, as the surprise guests at Duskendale almost six years ago had proved. "And before I say anything else- Aemon, get over here."
My oldest brother quirked a brow, but complied, slowly trudging over to join us. He spoke not a word, merely waiting for me to say my piece.
"I know I have not been the best younger brother," I said carefully. There was little chance of this meeting deteriorating, not with our present company, but I really did not want to gamble on that fact. "And it is past due that I apologize for my misconduct. I did not give your decisions the respect they were due, actively antagonized you for them, and treated you with a brutality you had not deserved. For that, I apologize."
Aemon blinked, only to let out a sigh that sounded like it had been building up for years.
"For my part, I suppose I have not made it easy to get along," he admitted, though it felt like the words were only spoken grudgingly. Given that his idea of a measured response to a fourteen-year-old with a sharp tongue was a fist to the face, I heartily agreed. Silently. "For that, you have my apologies."
Was that it? I gave a detailed list of my own wrongdoings and that was all I got?
As if reading my mind, Baelon gave our brother a sharp jab of the elbow, prompting him to continue.
"And I apologize for my frequent overreactions," Aemon said at last. Much better. That much I could accept.
"Was that so difficult?" Maegelle asked, addressing us both. Neither Aemon nor I had a good answer to that, leaving it to our brother to answer.
"Clearly it was, or we would not have been needed," Baelon commented. "Now, what's this about Dorne?"
Ah. Right. That.
"What would you like to know?" I asked.