( FOURTEEN FIRES )
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chapter 2: duty above desire.

THREE moons pass, yet the grief of Maegon's untimely death still has its claws deep into House Paethorys. Lord Vaeron painstakingly quarreled everyday with the other ruling lords, making his best efforts to enact justice on those responsible for the death of Maegon. Vaella knew her father was trying his best, yet she felt that nothing would truly come to fruition. The lords that ruled alongside and below her father had more pressing matters to attend to, it seemed, than to support Lord Vaeron in his efforts. Therefore, nothing truly justifying would come to pass.

Vaella was not the only one who struggled. Her mother, Daevera, isolated herself the majority of any day all but to make an appearance at supper. The grief was always visible in her violet eyes and sullen expression but she still managed to treat them with the gentle kindness she was known for.

Maelys and Aelyx would soon see the appearance of their first child in the short moons to come, for now she carried a prominent belly underneath her dress. Though they grieved over Maegon, they luckily had a form of a distraction that Vaella didn't. She envied them, thinking of what she was supposed to have with Maegon.

The young woman thought on the impending birth of her niece or nephew and everything else that clouded her mind any given day while basking in a steaming bath submerged within the floor of her bathing room. She lied against the stone, her head level to the floor. Marlaena poured scented oil into the water, causing the sweet smell to permeate throughout the room.

"Another gift from your father," Marlaena told Vaella, gesturing to the pitcher of oil. Already, her father had given her jewels, pieces of art and even a beautiful bird. It was his way of trying to soothe her bottomless pit of grief.

The young Valyrian woman sighed. "I know he is trying to soothe my grief, but it will not change what happened. Gifts will not bring Maegon back."

The servant set the pitcher of oil down on the table nearby. "He might not know how to help you, m'lady. At least he is trying in some way."

Vaella had to remind herself that her parents were grieving as well. Her mother was nearly not present since Maegon's death, while her father fought with the other houses every single day to ensure justice was enacted on the lords who'd challenged Maegon to the race on dragonback that had turned to a deadly airborne battle. It appeared even the law was dragging its feet in serving justice.

She might have lost the one she'd loved, but her parents lost their child. Her father was making the best effort he could.

"I suppose you're right," Vaella told the younger girl.

Seemingly out of nowhere appeared Vaella's cat, a beautiful silver tabby with azure eyes. The feline comes to the edge of the in-ground tub that the girl lied in, nudging her head against the Paethorys girl.

"Animals sense grief," Marlaena said softly as the feline purred loudly.

The presence of her animal companion gave a sense relief as she caressed the cat's head. She didn't say anything as she tried to be in the moment, to focus on only the softness of her felines fur. She closed her eyes, drawing in the steam of the bath into her lungs.

••••

THOUGH he still grieved the death of their son, Vaeron Paethorys knew the inevitable would come sooner rather than later. Their house needed to maintain it's integrity now more than ever, with many of the other dragon lords posing as formidable threats to them in their time of vulnerability. If they were to keep themselves safe, they would need to seek out new alliances. Strengthening themselves would be the only way to ensure self preservation.

In he and his wife's personal quarters, Vaeron sat at his heavy wooden desk and sorted through parchment. His mind swirled with how to start the conversation with Daevera, who lounged on their silken sheets as she quietly read from a book in candlelight.

He didn't want to interrupt her current peace, as she had had hardly any since they'd lost Maegon. Yet, he needed to discuss with her something very important that required her input. They needed to decide what would become of Vaella and whom she would marry.

"My love," he murmured to break the silence. Placing a finger where she'd been reading, Daevera turned her attention to him, her gaze tired. "I know the time will never be right. We must discuss a new suitor for Vaella."

His wife's lilac eyes clouded with emotion before she saved her spot in her book with a ribbon and pushed herself to sit up.

"I know it seems as if no amount of time will be enough to accept what happened," The lord sympathized her. Part of him wanted to put off the decision as well, but duty had its demands. They needed to guard themseleves now, more than ever. "But you and I need to decide who she will wed. It's been three moons. She may still be suffering, but she is of age and needs to be wed. You are already aware of the other houses breathing down our necks."

Daevera stayed quiet for a moment as his words hung in the air before she cleared her throat and spoke. As much as she wished to cling to her remaining children, she knew Vaella needed to find peace eventually. "You're right. We need to find someone. Is there a particular house you have in mind?"

Vaeron pulled the piece of parchment from under the other that he'd jotted down a list of houses on. Most would be putting the Paethorys to unite with a house that was below them but the lord knew their options were running thin. After Maegon's death, the other lords had turned their attention toward Vaeron's house with the desire to take them out while they were already struggling. Attacks on their sizable trading business were only the start. 

"I have a list of houses I've looked into," he told her, holding up the paper. "Unfortunately, they're below our station. We would find ourselves joining with a lower house regardless of who we choose. But most of them have considerable room for growth, and a host of dragons that could one day draw close to ours. Bolster our own, if joined in battle."

The Paethorys house alone had sixteen dragons, many riderless yet they still remained within their ranks. As one of the most powerful and leading of the thirty-eight dragon lord houses in the Valyrian Stronghold, they were considerably omnipotent with the number of dragons they held in their yoke. Many of the lesser houses would be lucky to have two or three.

A few of his cousins that married into other houses still held their mounts as well, but the numbers of the Paethorys alone were hard to rival. Only two other houses could get close to their might. Many of their dragons were mostly full grown, with a few younger ones that were proving formidable on their own.

"There is a particular house I've been looking into on the list," he went on to explain to his wife. "House Targaryen. They're a minor house, with five dragons. The rest have only two to three. They seem to be the more well off of those on the list. We would be able to add their five dragons to our ranks if times were to beckon the occasion."

Twenty-one dragons. There were no other major houses in Valyria that would be able to boast such a number. That would make them the most powerful of the dragon lord houses.

Daevera seemed to contemplate for a moment, her brow furrowing. "Would this not put us into a precarious situation?" She asked. "If the other dragon lords saw us as a threat, that we may try to take all of the Valyrian Stronghold for ourselves and to be crowned monarchs, they might join together to eliminate us entirely. Would never be able to fend off against such numbers."

"That is why this house in particular is a fortuitous opportunity for us," Vaeron explained to his wife. "The Targaryen's have an outpost established a crossed rhe Narrow Sea with a keep finishing its construction, I'm told. All of it having to do with something about their daughter Daenys having a dream. . . I don't know. It is a situation I do not care enough to dwell on. But they have rooted in the west now, abandoning the Freehold. But they would come to our call should it be given."

Though he'd devised a plan for Vaella, the issue of establishing more connection was still on the table. Even with the Targaryen dragons, they would not survive against the other powerful houses. They needed more riders.

Daevera held an expression of heartbreak. "You would send our daughter away for five dragons?" The woman muttered. "Five dragons when we have sixteen? Most riderless?"

Vaeron was frustrated as he ran his hands through his silver hair. "Not only will it grant us the ability to call upon five extra dragons if we were to face an uprising from the other lords," he uttered, he tone showing his underlying anger. "But it would allow for Vaella to find herself happiness. To get away from the Stronghold. The only thing she sees here is Maegon and everything she wished she had with him."

Tears formed in Daevera's eyes. She would lose another child. For five dragons. While they remained the most powerful already.

"Whatever you wish, husband," the woman murmured before sinking back onto the silken sheets.

"The Targaryen's should be honored with such an opportunity as to take a Paethorys into their house," Vaeron muttered as he shuffled through more papers on his desk. "We are the wroth of winter, blessed with the power of the Shivering Sea in the north. If it comes to it that we must call upon the Targaryen dragons to help defend our own, we will bring winter's worth with us."

••••

"VAELLA," Daevera spoke her name again, drawing her back from the frozen reality she'd just been trapped in. She blinked twice, drawing her attention back to her mother. She was still trying to process the information she'd just been informed of. She felt too shocked to speak.

"I understand that it may feel too soon," her mother tried to explain as gently as possible. She brought Vaella to the rookery above their colossal keep to give her the comfort of her dragon, Opalia. One of the few things that managed to bring any semblance of joy to the young woman these days.

She was to apparently marry Gaemon Targaryen, a man from a lesser family who wasn't even the heir of his house. She'd been promised she be would be with someone great from an early age, yet she was now being told she would marry into a minor house. Below their station. For the promise of five dragons given there were an outbreak of war.

Managing to find the words she had to fight to speak, Vaella said, "I don't want to marry. Anyone."

Daevera sighed heavily. "I understand, my sweet. But this is a matter that goes beyond our desires. This is for our protection."

"It's been three moons," she muttered, not wishing to continue on with the discussion. "I've seen more time to grief over a dead hatchling than my own brother. This is preposterous."

"Healing will come eventually. But this marriage goes beyond making political ties. This is to ensure our house does not find itself in danger. Your brother's death has already caused other houses to look our way in hopes of catching us while we are weak. Please, my dear," Daevera leaned forward to place a gentle hand on her daughters shoulder as the young woman leaned against the muzzle of her mount for support.

As much as the Vaella wanted to fight it, as much as she wanted to scream that the only one for her was Maegon and no one else, she chose to keep quiet. If she were forced to marry into this Targaryen house, she would make sure they knew she was a Paethorys and would always be. And she would make it their problem. As Maegon had said to her many times, we are the wroth of winter.

"So be it, then," the young woman muttered. "But they shall see that they are sorely outmatched."