"Acknowledge the gut feeling, yes, but do not let it control you."
"And then what?" the little girl was on the edge of her seat, her violet eyes gleaming with interest. The warm smile on my face grew as satisfaction bubbled in my guts. It was always nice to see the young ones so invested in stories. "What happened to Eurydice?"
"That was it," Maegelle said gently, gently closing her personal copy of the Seven-Pointed Star, bound in plain grey leather. "Hugh failed. He did not listen to the Stranger as he guided him through the afterlife, and Eurydice joined the Father in the Heavens."
"But it can't just end like that!" Rhaenys exclaimed, rising to her feet. "Where is the happy ending? Why is it so sad?"
"Because it teaches a lesson," Maegelle said softly, the distaste plain to see. This was not our favorite story, but that did not mean we would not discuss it. "Hugh was told to obey the Stranger. The Stranger told him to not look back as he guided Hugh through the afterlife. He did not obey and lost his love as a result."
"What about Eurydice?" my niece asked. "What about what she wants?"
"What somebody wants is secondary to what the Seven want," Braxton answered from his own seat, occupied far more casually. The man had become a regular fixture of these meetings since before his betrothal to Saera. I suppose that was part of the reason why Mother and Father had agreed to it. "The Stranger told Hugh to leave without turning back, and his love would be returned to him. But he lacked faith in the Seven, so punished both him and his lady love."
"Exactly," I agreed, sending a nod his way and earning a proud smile in return. "But what else can we learn? The obvious lesson is one of obedience, and easily understood, but is there another meaning?"
A look of comprehension passed over Saera's face. The eldest of my unmarried sisters, though for no fault of her own, had always been a clever one. I motioned for her to hold off on answering and let our niece answer.
"But Eurydice did not get to choose…" Rhaenys looked crestfallen, slumping back in her chair. Poor girl.
"Did she protest her fate?" Maegelle asked gently, already knowing what I was looking for, putting a reassuring hand on our niece's shoulder. A puzzled look passed over the girl's face. "She lamented Hugh's fate, not her own. Eurydice returned to the warmth of the Seven Heavens while Hugh was forced to labor on earth without this greater half."
"The other meaning of the tale is one of accepting death," Saera answered from Braxton's other side. Though they were betrothed and seated as was appropriate, I had made sure their seats were not too close together. "It is not so terrible for the one dying, being able to return to the Seven. The one who remains endured great suffering trying to change what had already happened."
"Exactly," I said with a smile. Saera, for her part, had a look that bordered on smug. "Death is terrible, yes, but there is nothing we can do to change it."
Before I had a chance to talk more, a knock rang out on the door. Before any of us had a chance to react, the door swung open on poorly oiled hinges, revealing my brother Aemon with a serious look on his face.
"Vaegon," he greeted me, stepping into the room. "Father requests our presence."
"Ours?" I asked, rising to my feet. Maegelle knew what this was about, but the others looked more than a little confused. Father demanding the presence of one of his children usually did not herald good news. "Is it time, then?"
"I suspect so," he answered, patiently waiting for me to join him by his side. My sisters gave me questioning looks- most of them, at least- but none were worried. Maegelle knew exactly what I was going to do, but the rest had been given a metaphorically true explanation.
But they were a curious bunch. I had seen to that.
"Do they know?" Aemon asked as the door fell shut behind us. We began our march to… wherever we were going. The king's solar, no doubt. "About your plans, I mean."
"They know enough," I answered as Aemon led us out of Maegor's Holdfast and across the drawbridge and into the keep proper. "Maegelle, however, knows everything."
"Really?" Aemon looked surprised. Did he not share everything with his wife? How short-sighted of him. "How did you get her to agree to you leaving for weeks at a time?"
"By agreeing to her terms," I said simply. My wife knew how to get what she wanted. And there was a significant overlap between her desires and mine. "She is a reasonable woman."
"Your better half in truth," Aemon commented, and I was forced to agree. I was going to miss her. It would only be for a few weeks, thankfully.
We exchanged some more idle chatter on our way. We did not head towards Father's solar, to my surprise. No, it was the Small Council chamber for us. An odd choice, in my own opinion. Was the solar not secure enough? Or were there simply too many people? No, it could not be that. The king's solar could hold no small number of people.
I was still pondering that question as we reached the double doors leading to the chamber, guarded by two knights of the Kingsguard. Sers Pate and Gyles, men who had been with my father since the days of his regency, if I had to guess. Men he trusted above all. Could that be part of the reason for choosing this place? It made sense. There were fewer adjoining chambers, after all, making it harder to eavesdrop.
Without a further word, we were ushered into the nearly empty Small Council chamber. Standing at the head of the large table that dominated the room was Father, looking far more serious than usual. That warm, unmistakably paternal smile was gone now. In its place was a shallow frown, but not one directed at any of us.
By his side stood Baelon, whose face wore all the joy our father did not show.
"Aemon, Vaegon. Come," our father greeted us, but his eyes were still locked onto the surface of the table. Upon approaching, I noticed the map spread out on the table. A map of Dorne and its marches it was, ending at the Mander and the Kingswood to the West and North, respectively. Very detailed, too. I lost count of just how many rivers were on the northern coast alone.
"What we discuss here today does not leave these chambers, understood?" His eyes left the map to bore into each of us. There was no hint of humor in his eyes, his gaze as hard as the stones that studded his crown. For once, the rainbow of color that decorated his head did not sit decoratively but drew his hair back and out of his face. The man who had brokered peace between rival cities was gone. This was the man who had personally hunted down raiders that threatened his realm.
"Understood." The three of us all knew what was at stake here.
"Morion Martell, the Prince of Dorne, has gathered an army of both his own men and mercenaries," he began, moving a wooden figure carved into the shape of a sun towards the northern coast of Dorne. On the other side of the sea stood a wooden stag, representing the modest forces gathered by Lord Baratheon. "He has also purchased the services of a fleet of sellsails to ensure he has enough ship to ferry his men across Sea of Dorne towards Cape Wrath. We will need to stop him."
At that, he returned his focus to us, his gaze sharpening.
And then his frown deepened.
"You are taking this news well," he said, gaze flickering between the three of us, and a small chuckle threatened to spill out of my lips.
"That's because it isn't news," I said. He already knew that I knew. He had been the one to tell me, after all, after I had informed him of the belligerence of the Dornish smallfolk.
"Vaegon told us," Baelon explained. It was odd that the man on the Small Council had been informed of his king's plans by his brother. Then again, who was I to judge the whims of a king? "At the wedding."
"How much?" Father asked, his voice calm. He could have been boiling with rage for all I knew, but it was impossible to tell. I chose to believe he was merely clamping down on his surprise.
"Most of what you just said," Aemon said, stepping closer to study the map. "That, and Boremund's role in repelling any Dornishmen that make landfall. And our role, of course."
"Burning ships on dragonback," Baelon said, with clear relish in his voice. "Nice and easy. Visenya did the same to the Arryn fleet during the Conquest. No doubt Vhagar will be eager to do so again."
"Which I would prefer to join in from Blackhaven," I said, earning a questioning glance from Father. Taking the hint, I explained. "The Cannibal does not get along with other dragons, so it would be best to join from another angle. Mayhaps the rush of battle will make him more controllable. And if not, I can still fall into the back of the enemy."
Father looked stunned for the briefest of moments. Whether at the fact that my brothers had been informed out of turn or at Baelon's boasting, it was hard to tell, but he regained his composure in the blink of an eye.
"This was meant to be a secret, Vaegon," he said carefully and I had to suppress the reflex to laugh at the idea. Ah yes, a secret that had been revealed by numerous treacherous vassals of the Prince of Dorne. A secret so great even the smallfolk of Dorne knew something was about to happen.
"They deserved to know," I said with a shrug. "It is war, after all. Best to be of a mind in this matter."
"I handled this without the involvement of the Small Council for a reason, Vaegon," Father reminded me. "A single slip-up and this whole plan will collapse. A single slip-up and Morion's next move is a mystery to us."
"And then Prince Morion has spent a lot of coin on an army and exactly four ways he can move it," Aemon said, still looking at the map. We had had ample opportunity to discuss the topic. "North or West. Each either by land or by sea. None of which are optimal for large armies. The southern coast is riddled with whirlpools, and we can have a dragon in Highgarden within a week while we raise our men. And the northern way is secure."
"See?" Baelon chimed in from the opposite side of the table. "Everything will work out fine."
"It heartens me to see you all getting along so well," our father sighed, massaging his forehead. "But it does pain me that you must go behind my back."
"Just wait until you hear what he has planned for after the invasion," Baelon said lightly, and Father's gaze became a glare once more. Only this time it was focused squarely on me.
"And what, pray tell, do you have planned?" This time, there was an undercurrent of tension in his voice.
"I will be joining Lord Yronwood in breaking the Red Mountains away from Martell control," I said without preamble. Best to get it done quickly. "House Martell will be low on men and coin, and Lord Yronwood has a claim to some of the neighboring lands. It should be a quick endeavor once I join in."
Father did not answer immediately.
He drew in a breath, the sound dominating the room for several seconds. Aemon, Baelon, and I traded worried looks. This was a bit much of a reaction for him, worryingly so. Father held it for a brief moment before letting it out, the sound giving way to a sigh that grew ever more ragged as the seconds dragged on.
That couldn't be good.
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