⋆⭒˚.⋆

The Small Council meeting dragged out like an old village drunk, but at least the drunk would yell something hilarious from time to time. If he had to hear one more lord gloat and boast of their resources Vanarr would combust.

At that moment, a servant knocked on the council's door, he excused himself for the interruption. Vanarr's arms tensed, eager to stretch his legs inspired by the possibility of the meeting being called off. He was about to thank R'hllor for the mercy when the servant directed the message to him.

"Lord Naertaelos, your lady-wife requests your presence at once."

Other lord's children got in as much trouble as Vanarr's yet somehow it felt like all eyes were on him. Judging him, belittling him as a father and above all as an authoritarian figure. Naelle wasn't a great deal of trouble, she had mostly been a pleasure to raise. Extremely well-behaved and bright-eyed, now nine and growing into a lovely young woman. The twins had brought more unruliness to their family but Vanarr wouldn't trade it for anything.

From the prestigious seat, Otto Hightower bowed his head and allowed Vanarr to depart. He returned the gesture, exiting the room all the while thinking of the predicaments the twins could've gotten into.

In company, Maekar was more prone to mischief. He was easily influenced by older associates, and Vanarr had found in recent years that the oldest son of the King was one to take advantage. Aegon and Maekar, sometimes Aemond too, would alarm the women with innocent pranks and run everywhere around the castle.They would wreak havoc secluded by shadows and Vanarr was yet to discover how they managed to evade them. Vanarr and Queen Alicent found themselves many times a month sharing tea and complaining to their cups, waiting for a sighting of the crew.

It was a childish display but Vanarr feared the day adolescence took the reins. Innocence would give away to something more nefarious, he hoped to be wrong. However, even without meaning it, when something is done over and over... It is bound to slump in bad luck.

On the other hand, Vaenna could find trouble on her own. It was uncanny. She just stumbled upon it like a fly to honey. And when she couldn't find it, she created it. Recently Vanarr began to wonder if it was malicious intent, he even commented one time with Alicent. She just laughed and reassured Vanarr that it would go away with the increase of responsibilities and the presence of life in court.

It surprised him. He half-expected Alicent to look sideways at him and belittle Vaenna behavior further. Though they had been hunting for their son when they slipped goat feces into the septa's shoes.

Who was he to judge?

The servant guided him along the halls and Vanarr could not help but note the agitation. He palmed his chest, the quirk of tending to the pilgrim flask embedded into Vanarr and he cursed himself. When they had first moved to King's Landing drinking wasn't a habit of his but the late hours of fulfilling his role as master of laws and certain companies pushed him to it.

The flask had been gifted by an old lord just visiting, pleading a case of land dispute and, very pleased with the result, decided to share a drink with Vanarr. The Nartaelos conceded and were about to call a servant when the lord stopped him.

"I have something better, something northern."

Vanarr eyed the object with curiosity. By the end of the evening a warm feeling played at his chest and the lord was generous enough. He should've rejected the offering. He should've been stronger to resist chasing that feeling. Vanarr should've never come here.

Alas it did not matter now. For the past few weeks Vanarr had been attempting to lay off the liquor. He had tried to switch the spirits with water, it was too abrupt of a change. Then he filled the flask with ale instead but the taste didn't appeal to him and later throughout the day Vanarr would find something stronger.

Vanarr realized the mere shape of the flask in his hand would send him into a spiral of need. Even when stuffed with ale or water, the memory of something bitter had Vanarr crawling back to forget. Thus he decided to leave the flask in his quarters during the day. He wanted to be better, he wanted to be present for his children. Unlike many other regrets of Vanaar, he could still turn that boat around.

He was fine, he didn't need it.

"What exactly is going on?" Instead Vanarr asked, glad for a distraction.

The fidgety servant hobbled in his step, catching the pace again shortly after. He glanced at Vanarr from the corner of his frightened brown eyes. He took him by surprise, for instance Vanarr slowed down, an authoritarian mask came about and the servant felt as if he had no other choice. "My lord..."

Screams from the courtyard caught Vanarr's resolve. A high-pitched scream he could have recognized anywhere punched the air out of his lungs, Vanarr was running after it in seconds. He hadn't heard it in years, recollections of a wedding and a ravaged face flashed before him.

It slid around three women that were walking and gossiping in the corridor, the servant's explanations lost in the reverberations of the hall. When he stumbled outside, the cold air brought some composure back; on the contrary his eyes were still adjusting to the light. Still the screaming continued, Vanarr could not make up the words yet.

"Lord Vanarr." He snapped his head in time to meet Queen Alicent's frame moving in his direction. She was out of breath, same as him, and waved her hands in the air in a calming gesture. "Before you do anyth-"

Without thinking, rationally out of the window at that point, Vanarr handgripped the queen's shoulder. "What is going on?!"

Alicent stammered, surely alarmed by the contact and having a hard time articulating the situation. He realized the altercation was happening on the training yard, just a few stairs below. Impatient Vanarr passed over the queen, determined to get to his Aerea. Something grabbed at his lower back and Vanarr turned with a grunt, he softened as he met Alicent's perturbed gaze.

"What is going on?" Vanarr tried gently that time but his voice didn't carry enough certainty to conceal his spooked disposition.

"Before you intervene, listen. Listen to what is happening... ."

Alicent placed a set a placid hand on top of his hand. Suddenly Vanarr felt like a dog himself being domesticated. Snarls and aggression reduced to a complacent beast, ears perked to listen for danger. Vanarr heard his wife's shouts, his heart jumped. Then he detected the viciousness in her tone and finally he began comprehending the speech.

"Get up! Get up! Again!"

"My lady, I believe-" Criston Cole's voice prevailed over the feminine one, which by the looks of it, fatigued from all the screaming.

"We will go again!" She cut him off, an object thudded to the dirt.

Now that the rapid beating of heart wasn't ringing in his ear, Vanarr realized how quiet the rest of the patio was. He placed a hand on top of Alicent's and she let him go. Falteringly, Vanarr tempted to approach without alerting anyone.

"Up, now!" A primordial rage ruptured from within Aerea's gut, brutality they had left behind years ago.

It startled even Vanarr that had seen his wife's fits in the past, just wasn't reminded of how cold-blooded Aerea could be. The lord came closer to the parapet of stone and watched as his youngest daughter dusted her clothes and gripped firmly on a wounded sword. His left hand picked at his beard, he felt acrid fury rising to the soft tissue of his mouth and yet... He chose to watch a little while longer.

Vaenna positioned herself to fight. From the other side of the yard, Aegon had his sword lax in his hand, he glanced hesitantly at his teacher. Guide me, help me, but Sir Criston would be of no substantial help. He could only clench his jaw and nod to the prince. Aegon got into a fighting stance. He easily warded off Vaenna's attack and the edge of his makeshift sword hit her back.

"I tried talking to her but she won't listen to reason." Alicent appeared at his back.

"She usually doesn't when she's like this..."

"I didn't want to humiliate her, I thought that if, if I called you..." She gulped when Vanarr faced her, she kept her voice in a controlled hush. That's when Vanarr realized the queen was afraid of Aerea. "Maybe you could handle the situation diplomatically."

Unlikely. Aerea could not be commanded. How did a man command a storm? How did a man command wildfire? He didn't. He simply would have to live with the liability of losing control.

From below they perceived a painful cry. Vaenna was on the floor, on her knees and hands catching her breath, sword discarded. The mother came in between Vaenna and Aegon, not in defense but to taunt her.

"Aren't you tired, Vaenna?" The girl didn't respond, gasping and coughing. "You learned your lesson? Hm?"

It was his clue to move, he schemed the best way to handle it. Vanarr wasn't sure what had ignited all of that but he needed to at least move the altercation to a private setting. He inhaled to be able to project his rugged voice, at that instant his youngest daughter lifted her head. In Vaenna's rather painstakingly gasping state, her eyes welled in determination. He stopped and as Alicent was about to question it, he pleaded to hold a while longer.

"Wasn't what you hoped for, hm? Wasn't it what you wanted?" Inquired Aerea.

She chuckled venomously, deeming the torture over she walked away. Vaenna shouted and launched at Aegon, who regrettably had believed it was safe to relax. Each blow was sustained with a furious cry, and she was faster than before. She was fast. Aegon retaliated with a tad excessive attack in his panicked haze, Vaenna ducked and slammed the full weight of her body against him. Sword cut upwards and expecting the reaction, the girl had already jumped to the side.

Sensing her daughter was not hitting the floor again, Aerea glanced back. She watched as the prince chased Vaenna. She escaped his attacks, shielded herself being the pells, Vaenna couldn't yet get a few touches of her blade in but with training... In turn, Aegon was tiring and getting increasingly aggravated.

The boy groaned in frustration and a particular good blow had Vaenna's sword falling across the yard.

"Yield!" Aegon demanded.

However, Vaenna wasn't giving up. She peered over her shoulder spotting the sword then back at her adversary, Vaenna gasped for air. No, this isn't over, she waved her head and sprinted to retrieve her weapon. They raced each other, Aegon hard on her heels and reaching with his hand to stop her. Suddenly Vaenna curled into a ball and collided with Aegon's limbs, throwing him off balance.

The yard fell silent, the erratic panting of both sword fighters the only reminiscence that time hadn't indeed stopped. Vaenna, hair in a mess and bruised, leaped for the sword before Aegon could gather himself. He had fallen on his face and Alicent covered her mouth.

Selfishly Vanarr prevented Alicent from rushing down the stairs, he reassured her with sympathetic purple eyes and she allowed him to take charge of the damage. Almost to savor the moment, Vanarr measured his steps down the stairs and watched the rest of the scene.

Aegon scrambled to find his sword, discarded too far to obtain, then he rolled over. Vaenna got to her feet and extended her sword in the prince's direction, what would've been a sharp edge, slicing at Aegon's chin. He hesitated to draw a hand up to protect his face.

"Do you yield?" Rang Vaenna's exhausted, timid voice.

Aegon gulped, pride wounded and unsure if he could give it up already. Poor boy was as much a victim as Vaenna. Once more Criston Cole gawked at a Nartaelos with an unreadable expression and froze in place. In fact all the bystanders stared at her. Awe. Surprise. Reverence.

Aerea looked at Vaenna like she had grown three heads. It almost had Vanarr chuckling. It was rather perceptible when Aerea was about to strike again.

"Aerea!"

Lord Vanarr's presence caused a new flow of movement. Some scattered, some bowed, others just didn't know what to do with themselves. Aerea stared and he could tell by her hard features she still had some fighting in her too. To prevent it Vanarr raised his hand.

He turned to Vaenna next, "That's good. Take it easy."

She was shaking but bit by bit Vaenna let go of the sword. The lord stepped forward stroking the top of her head. Afterwards, he lent a helping hand to Aegon. Humiliated and prone to anger, he batted it away and fled. Giving Alicent no space to get a word in to comfort him.The queen was apologetic but Vanarr interrupted her.

"Nonsense, Your Grace. If anything we're the ones who beg your forgiveness." Vaenna nestled closer to him, he smoothed his fingers between her sweaty dark hairs. He beckoned to his wife. "Don't we?"

Aerea Targaryen tightened her jaw, eyes casted down, and without an escape route she was forced to show respects to the much younger queen. She curtsied in a haste. The couple stared down at each other, and they knew the argument later would be vile.

⋆⭒˚.⋆

They had been over each and every topic regarding the afternoon's occurrence. Vanarr leaned over the back of a chair, praying to Vhagar to ground him. Give him strength because patience was running out.

"She broke the rules, we told her... Alright, we! We told her to not sneak out to the beach!" Aerea shouted again. She emphasized every other hitting her fist on the table.

"And you decide to make a spectacle."

"I was educating her!"

"You were humiliating her! That's not how you discipline a child."

Aerea tilted her head, cooing. "Ahh because you have been such an example, you are not even around anymore!" The man sighed, walking away to the unlit fireplace. "Don't you turn your back on me, Vanarr!"

They had been at it for long, the sun had set and no servant had dared to come in and built the fire. He wasn't the type to throw threats and scream but one way or another, Vanarr needed to close the argument. "Rich coming from you..."

They fell quiet. Still Vanarr did not trick himself into believing his wife had nothing to add. "What did you say?"

"You heard," he stated flatly, and faced Aerea again. "King's Landing was your dream. You were the one that wanted to move here, that wanted me to be part of the Small Council!"

It was unfair, he knew.

"Don't you start with th-"

"You could've been Lady of Dreimunt, you could have a seat of your own!"

Aerea scoffed. "In the middle of nowhere?! Surrounded by trees and clouds! King's Landing is my home, of course I would rather be here!"

"And yet," Vanarr slid over to her. So close he perceived when the woman sucked on a breath. "You struggle to conduct yourself properly."

"Me? How dare you?" Aerea said back but lacking bite in her words all of the sudden.

"You love the appearances, you love to have the lords and ladies flatter you, the fancy food, oh and power of information. The power, tsk. But you're deceived, Aerea. You can not go around King's Landing blustering and smashing."

"I can. I am a Targaryen..."

"Yes, yes," Vanarr cut her off. "You are the King's sister, you are a princess... Nevertheless by law you are a Nartaelos."

Aerea sulked, she chewed the inside of her cheek. "How has that anything to do with me disciplining my daughter?"

"We, notice I'm using we, have established that what you did, was not discipline."

"I happen to disag-"

"You involved the prince in your punishment, I don't even want to know how you addressed Queen Alicent-"

"Oh no, not Queen Alicent-" She continued her mockery at the same time Vanarr was making his point. And he was done, he was so done with the argument.

"She's the queen whatever you like it or not-"

"She's a child!"

"Your brother married her over ten year ag-"

"Oh please!"

"Vaenna will begin training with the others."

Aerea gasped. "Oh you just decided? Without consulting me?"

"It was decided for you the moment that girl prevailed over a much stronger opponent."

"It'll embarrass the family, we need to talk ab-"

"You embarrassed yourself!" Vanarr raised his voice. "You are my wife and I will not have it!"

He raised his voice, and regretted it immediately as Aerea recoiled. She flinched because of him, and tears pooled in her angelic eyes. Separating from the confrontation, Aerea gravitated towards the chair and gripped the wooded ear. She was shaking a bit, Vanarr realized she was muffling crying sounds.

He walked over, resolved to apologize and just forget about the whole thing. At least his wife's faults in it. Vanarr was convicted that their daughter had to partake in the training, she had to be shaped into a warrior. Or else, she would be shaped into nothing. An amorphous paste of clay. Vanarr placed a hand on her shoulder, ready to balk if she were to shake him off.

Instead, Aerea surprised him by turning around. "I'm pregnant."

The lord widened his eyes and felt a rush of blood inside his veins, dread tempering with the emotions playing in his chest. Vanarr was quick to hug so she could see the fear transparent in his features. He should be happy, he should!

However, an old omen pulsed again. The future whispered into his ear under the slumber of the poppy. A rotting corpse, that couldn't possibly be Aerea but translated all of her characteristics. The message was lost when he woke up. Yet Vanarr knew it was terrible and he had forgotten all about it.

Later that night, after Area had been lulled to sleep, the lord felt the shape of his flask in his palm. 

NOTES
well well well, so I updated some aspects of this book (let's give it up for the cover pls, thank you, thank you, i appreciate it 🤓). Still not in love w the aesthetic part but I honestly just... i don't care. It's good enough for now.

THIS IS THE LAST CHAPTER OF PART 2, DO I HAVE SOMETHING ALREADY WRITTEN FOR PART 3? NO ❤ I would love to finish before the next season but I have a thesis to fo first and I'm exhausted.... so grab my hand, send some prayers, and let me know your thoughts, dreams, aspirations. I'm all ears.

thank you for sticking to this book, it's a self-indulgent burning pile but the edits do be fire (meh, sometimes) 💞💞💞💞