Chapter 61: I'm a Financier, not a Doctor I

"Stoke the dying flame. Separate the ember from the ash. One will revive, the other is truly dead."​

By all accounts, meaning mine, the meal on the silver platter was a plain thing. Thick-cut bacon cooked to just begin to go crispy around the edges. Two small fish, smoked and then sliced thin. A few slices of fine white bread. Butter, freshly churned. Fit for a noble, certainly far richer than anything the common folk would consume, but hardly extravagant.

And Father paid no mind to it.

His face remained downcast, staring down into the goblet in his hands. Physically, he looked as he always did. Immaculately dressed in black and gold, not a hair out of place, the crown at just the right angle to catch the firelight in its gems and gold. But beyond that, it was clear that there was something deeply wrong with him. His eyes were flat and lifeless and carrying heavy bags that spoke of missed sleep, his skin unhealthily pale.

To any who saw him, it was clear that the true damage was not to his body.

"Father, you need to eat," I repeated, crouched in front of him with a skewered length of bacon hovering in front of his face. But as he had done to the fish and the bread alike, and the porridge we had offered him to break his fast, he did not react. "Please."

"Later, Vaegon," he whispered his voice flat and lacking inflection. He did not even move. Flat lifeless eyes just kept staring off towards the wall, unmoving and unresponsive. "I'm not hungry now."

Were this not the noon after the wedding feast where he had not had the chance to eat, I might have believed him. Had he quaffed ale like a shipwrecked man drank water, I might have excused his lack of appetite.

Father had done none of those things, if only because the Dornish had ruined the wedding feast as they had ruined to trip back from the sept.

An appreciable portion of the small council was dead. Most of the Kingsguard, too. Part of the city had been destroyed by the Cannibal's… enthusiastic intervention. And now my father was a barely functioning husk.

All because of the Dornish.

My blood began to hammer in my ears at the thought as heat began to build in my throat. They had done this. Starting this war had not been enough. Killing my brother had not been enough. No, they had to taint a holy ceremony as well, my own sister's wedding no less!

They had been in the city! Had benefited from my charity! Had seen firsthand how I helped my people! Had seen the good I brought! And what did they do? Attack us after a wedding! They killed the Hand of the King, the Master of Ships, the Master of Whisperers, and three knights of the Kingsguard! And then another knight of the Kingsguard and another score of guests at the feast!

All other details in the room receded as fury surged through my body, drowning all other sensations in the need to drown my hurt in the blood of any even remotely responsible for it. The sounds of children at play muted, the sight of my family seated around us faded, and even the previously mouth-watering smell of bacon became as plain as that of cloth.

I could do something.

I should do something.

Would it help?

Did it matter?

It was only a short ride to reach the Cannibal's roost. I could always level another castle. Find an oasis to burn, a fresh spring to poison. Make them pay, show them what happened when they dared taint a wedding with their sand-born treachery!

"Vaegon." A hand came to rest on my shoulder, and Maegelle's gentle voice cut through as the dreams of fire and blood receded. Bless that woman, the anchor that kept me from being swept away by madness. "Are you feeling alright?"

"Better now," I sighed, rising back to my feet. Father still had not moved, but Mother had. Now, she sat beside him, concern writ clear upon her features. She had recovered from her grief, it seemed. Or this new wave of grief had overcome the previous and instilled her with new strength.

Whatever it was, it pushed back at the rage for a little moment. Something had improved. Something had gotten better. Mother had gotten better. That was a start for which I could thank the Seven with all my heart.

"Leave the food," Mother ordered, her tone brooking no argument. Yes, the was starting to return to her old self. "I shall ensure he eats it."

"Are you certain?" Aemon asked. The children played around him, acting much like a stout battered by storms. No, that was an uncharitable description of him. My brother was not quite as slim as he had been ten years ago, but he was far from stout.

"I know your father better than you, dear son," Mother reassured him. Yes, this was encouraging. Assertiveness, confidence, protectiveness... these were all signs of progress. These were all signs that I could trust Mother with ensuring Father did not starve himself into an early grave.

That meant I did not need to wait around. I took my leave with all due protocol, trusting my children to find their way to the Grand Maester for their lessons. If not… well, I was certain one of my younger siblings would remind them.

Unfortunately, Maegelle noticed that my departure was rather out of character for me, and asked the obvious question as soon as the door swung shut behind us.

"You are leaving already?" Maegelle asked.

"Not for Dorne, not for the Cannibal," I said, briefly relishing the freedom from the same rage that had once propelled me to Starfall.

Truly, Maegelle's presence was a blessing from the Seven. It had not been long, only a few months since I had done that, but I needed to keep a tighter grasp on my temper. In my dreams, I could still see the melting walls and men, could still smell the roasting flesh and the rendered fat. Under no circumstances could I allow myself to lose control like that again.

Which was why the Cannibal would face some boring times in the near future. Not that he would complain. The beast did like his free meals. "To the city. I will be inspecting the damages and searching for what few Dornish escaped the initial ambush. And then I intend to find a septon."

"You have questions," Maegelle observed. It was not a question.

"I do." In truth, what I needed was confirmation. I knew who had started this war. I knew it had been because of a foolish man with an impossible goal and an idiotic grudge.

Despite that, I needed to know it was entirely because of him, entirely because of one man forsaking the wisdom of the Seven. Not because one man thought he could use an idiotic invasion to his advantage.

Not because another man did not argue against the idiocy of his father's plan.

"So eager to charge off head-first?" she asked with a sly smile. "It is good to see some things are constant even in times of great danger."

"Nonsense," I waved off her concerns as I pulled her close. Even if her swollen belly made the embrace awkward, having her close was always welcome. "I intend to keep Martyn and Desmond around me at all times. Not to mention the men of the city watch, men at arms, and knights besides."

"Look at you, learning from your mistakes," she giggled, before planting a quick kiss on my cheek. The warmth quickly spread through the rest of my body, eclipsing the rage I had felt only recently and smothering it like an unwanted flame. "Then you had better hurry and find your answers, Vaegon."

"And miss the pleasure of your company?" I asked, pivoting on the ball of my feet to spin quickly, drawing my wife in close. Unfortunately, our little moment was quite rudely interrupted.

"I don't mean to interrupt…" Aemon said, clearly not caring that he was interrupting. "But I have need of my brother."

"Speak," I said, trying and failing to keep the irritation from my voice. Was it too much to ask to have but a small moment?

"The Small Council is gathering," he said, managing to have the grace to look abashed and ashamed of his interruption. "Your presence would be… appreciated."

"I am not on the council," I reminded him. Honestly, what did he expect me to accomplish in that meeting? I would be little more than an advisor with even less authority than the actual councilors beyond my name.

It made no sense, not when my area of expertise was already covered by the Master of Coin. A man who yet lived. More importantly, a man whose wife yet lived. "It is not my place to be there."

"Mayhaps," he allowed. "But your presence would still be appreciated."

...

Hey guys I really need you to throw some power stones to elevate the ranking :)

...

If you want to read ahead of the public release, or just want to support me.

you can join my p atreon :

p@treon.com/Nolma