章 2: Chapter 2: New Me is Nothing Like Old Me
"Would you care to read the next paragraph, Daella?" Maegelle asked gently, pushing the open book towards the first of our younger sisters. She hesitated, briefly looking up at us. At the sight of our reassuring nods, she approached the lectern and began to read.
"And thus, his journeys complete, Hugor was granted his final boon and crowned by the Father, and seven stars... danced upon his brow."
Daella began slowly, her finger following the words. Slow and halting as the reading it was, it was progress from the painfully shy girl she had so recently been. "'Behold what we have granted you,' spake in unison the Father, Mother, Warrior, Maid, Smith, Crone, and Stranger. 'All a man needs to rule... you have received. Use it well, and it shall be your blood to bring salvation across the sea."
"And so ends the Testament of Hugor." Maegelle said with a solemn nod to the other members of our little study group.
Daella, a thin sheen of nervous sweat sparkling on her forehead, only nodded weakly. Saera looked almost interested while Viserra maintained her carefully schooled expression.
"A lovely story, is it not?" our older sister asked the little trio.
"Why is the Stranger's gift never mentioned?" Saera asked, and I made no attempt to subdue the smile that came to my lips. While hardly my crowning triumph, the steps to turn the neediest of my sisters into a respectable member of the nobility were bearing fruit. A pious curiosity was certainly useful, if properly directed.
"His gift was the last and greatest of them all," I tried to explain. Truthfully, when it came to the Faith's resident psychopomp, there wasn't much detail. Even the book allegedly about the Stranger was... lacking in substance.
I suspected editorial interference, but I was in no position to prove anything. Luckily, my previous life's oft cursed curiosity was paying off. "The Stranger gave the gift of peace. When Hugor was done, when his sons were grown, he was allowed to join the Father in the Seven Heavens with no regrets left in the world."
"But his book said nothing of the kind!" Saera protested. As proud as I was for instilling such an academic spirit, I had to remember that little Saera still loved attention. She and Viserra were the devious ones, but the latter was quiet most of the time. "How could we know that happened?"
"The gift of mercy," I explained, even as the irony of the phrase burned on my tongue.
"In far too many cultures, including those of Westeros, the notion that it is noble to kill those too ill to survive is widespread. Ask any of the wandering septons, from Dorne to the Wall, and you will find they weave a similar tale. Even the followers of the old gods believe it would be kinder to let a greatly wounded or crippled soul die than continue to let them suffer needlessly."
"And you know this how?" Maegelle asked, a slightly teasing smile on her lips. There was no heat there, no malicious spirit, just the inquisitive nature I had sought to instill with these meetings.
"I spend a lot of time in the city," I explained. "People like to talk, and I like to listen. Or would you prefer the list of books I have been reading in the library? Do beware, it is quite extensive."
"But how could the truth of the Seven be in the mouths of the smallfolk and maesters but not the pages of the Seven-Pointed Star?" Saera asked, and I let my smile grow by just a hair. Here it was.
"As time passes, our understanding of the gods grows," I said, closing the old leather-bound tome with a satisfying thump. "Ask Barth about the Doctrine of Exceptionalism and you shall see. He knows the lore of the Faith better than I could ever hope to."
"Will that be all?" little Viserra asked, and my smile grew into a proper grin.
"Not until you share your thoughts on our most recent readings." She was not going to escape without having uttered a word this time. It wasn't that she was shy, she just... didn't want to.
Personally, I blamed the fact that she was just seven.
"It was pleasant," she replied, "but I prefer the songs."
I really should not have expected advanced theological debates out of children, but then again, this world is full of stranger things.
"Acceptable." Maegelle took over for me there, her smile radiating gentle warmth. "Run along now. I'm sure the Grand Maester will want to start his lessons soon."
Our younger siblings filtered out of the room, chattering happily. Daella seemed to hesitate a bit, looking back and not joining her sisters until I nodded her way. She was improving, but there was only so much I could do to help her.
To help any of them.
I had flapped my wings as soon as I was able, and the storms were howling, but there were limits to what a child could accomplish. Grand as my other plans were, they needed time, coin, and boldness. The first I had in spades, and the others... well, the others would grow more in time.
Optimism, Vaegon, optimism.
The sound of the door slamming into its frame pulled my mind back to the present, along in the room. No, not alone. Maegelle was still there, idly leafing through the book's pages while I had gotten lost in my thoughts.
"You're not going to join them?" I asked, trying not to betray my surprise. "You trust them enough to find their way on their own?"
"They know the way well enough," she remarked, pausing to study one page in particular. Given how far into the tome she was, I was willing to bet it was from the Book of the Crone. "You, however, look like someone who requires counsel."
"An interesting theory," was all I said. A theory that was all too true. Given a decade to plan on my own, it was only natural for there to be holes in my plans. Blinded by my pride, it was only natural for some holes to escape my notice.
"'By the light of the Crone, he found the path he must take,'" Maegelle quoted, and I opted to simply raise a brow. "Just because you know your path does not mean you must walk it alone, be it in person or in spirit."
"With such wise counsel, you should have become a septa," I muttered, returning to my seat next to hers. There was little sense denying her when she wanted to help.
"And you a maester," she replied calmly, now ignoring the tome before her in favor of me. Even after all these years, those violet eyes never failed to bore into me, almost straight into my mind. "And yet, here we are. Prince and princess, waiting for our father to decide what our fate shall be."
"I know exactly what shall become of me," I countered, crossing my arms while sporting a confident grin. "Prince and knight. And if father allows me the chance and the gods grant their favor, dragonrider."
"It almost sounds like you have a plan," Maegelle commented.
"I do," I admitted it, for it cost me nothing. A great deal many plans I had needed to be organized and researched further before they were implemented. Until then, it cost me nothing to admit I have plans.
"Will you really make me tear out each detail as if it were a rotting tooth?" my sister asked. "Do you not trust me?"
Unfair, dear sister. Most unfair.
"Lord Darklyn will be hosting a tourney to celebrate his son's nameday," I sighed, giving in. "I will be competing as a mystery knight."
Baelon already knew of that plan, and when father would investigate why I was missing, it was best to have a believable excuse ready. A lie was easier to swallow the more people repeated it.
"Quite the opportunity," she commented. "Duskendale is a day's ride away at most. And since it is a nameday tourney, Lord Darklyn would hardly call it off even if father were to come and collect his wayward son."
"Indeed." That was what made it such a good distraction.
"So why do it?" Maegelle asked. "You are merely four and ten, Vaegon. You would be facing men grown. What chance do you have?"
"Aemon managed to win a tourney at sixteen and earned a knighthood, "I began to explain. "Baelon competed having seen only fifteen name days and earned the same honor. I need to continue the trend."
"You are mad, Vaegon."
She shook her head as she remonstrated me, softly closing the tome she had been studying.
"Without a doubt." I deadpanned, settling back into my chair.
The idiocy of my current plan was hardly a new development, but well in line with the character of chivalry. Idiocy to prove a point about a knight's virility was a running theme in far too many tales, both in this world and the old one. Really, it made the distraction all the more believable.
"But as you well know, I am more than capable of holding my own. I have seen you watch me in the practice yard."
"What would mother think? Her brightest son risking his life, all to appease his pride."
Maegelle's eyes nearly flashed as she retorted.
My dearest sister was all too eager to point out the idiocy of my plan. Despite the inconvenience, it gave me hope for the future of Westeros. If she could impart even a fraction of her wisdom unto her future children, then perhaps future generations might just learn something.
"Pride, hopefully, at witnessing her third son proving his abilities, "I replied pithily.
"I pray your actions can measure up to your words." A length of white fabric was then thrust at my face. A ribbon, really, more than long enough to tie around my ar- wait a minute.
"Is that…"
That was a lady's favor. People did not just carry around a favor, not even the most devoted and naïve princess would carry one to her studies. Why would Maegelle have had one on her person? Unless… unless someone had told her…
…Gods damn it all.
Baelon.
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