xXx

Being a student in my past life, I had been able to find myself a participant numerous times when it came to helping a mate of mine, or sometimes, some random person I met on a night out when it came to them chundering everywhere I.e. I was quite well versed in the art of holding hair back whilst someone puked onto the ground, toilet or whatever decoration that was available.

I never worried much during that point in time. The emotions that mostly went through my head during such a time was mostly the selfish ones along the lines that if any of that chunder went anywhere near my finely dressed self, we were going to have problems. Problems that more or less resulted in me abandoning whoever and continuing having fun with the rest of the lads.

I know, what a horrible thing to do, but sometimes, when I'm really drunk, my dickish nature seems to rear more of it's ugly head more than I sometimes care to contemplate in fear of the guilt I would feel later on when I reviewed the memories of that particular moment.

Like I said, I'm a coward. I prefer not facing the consequences of my actions unless they make me feel really good about myself or benefit me in some form or way.

Therefore, it wasn't much of a surprise to me when I woke up one morning and found myself holding my wife's hair back as she cleared her stomach content into a nearby pot.

Thing is, I was worried.

She hadn't been drinking last night. Nor the previous nights the last three times that she had started this nearly morning ritual.

I had seen enough tv to know that as a young man, I should start freaking out. Basically, she was pretty much showing signs of the primarily feared pregnancy state of any sane, rational young man.

And I was freaking out.

Well, freaking out wasn't the right term for it.

I was this close to losing it and running for the hills. I was way too young to be a father, but really, what had I been expecting with all the unprotected sex that had been happening? I felt like slapping myself in the face. I had sort of figured that she was regularly seeing Maester Gyldayn for what was it again, moon tea?

Alright, alright, alright. I should probably calm down, for all I knew, this could probably be nothing more than a false alarm and I was probably thinking too much into it.

Branda seemed to stop her retching for more than a few moment before she slowly lifted her head. She had bed hair and that meant it was all frazzled and messy, basically, her near standard state of her, "I just know this is your fault."

Well, in truth, the fault would be equally shared between us if she was truly pregnant, it took two to tango after all. This wouldn't have happened without her being a willing partner in our occasional dances, "Eh, probably." Didn't mean I was going to voice my opinion to the contrary. I knew better, "Does this happen often?" Please say no.

She called for a servant to come throw away the pot full of sick, "A few times these past couple of months."

I really don't know why I was an eyeing the window. Our chambers were on the top fucking floor for crying out loud. That route would have resulted in me dying, something I wasn't particularly interested in. I wasn't Spiderman.

"Oh..." I said, licking my strangely dry lips. This was actually happening? I was way too young to be a father. I was going to be a mess of a father. I don't even know how to be a father. There's no books on this shit. Especially in this place. I tried to look for any sign that this was nothing more than a false alarm, "By any chance, have you had your moon's blood yet?"

Branda looked at me curiously as the servant appeared not long after she had been called. With her attention split between me and the servant, she directed with her hands towards the pot and the servant carried it out of the room.

"What does that have anything to do with this?" She asked. She then blinked. Frowned. Then her eyes widened slightly in surprise, "You think I'm with...child?" She asked, hands going subconsciously to her middle. I'm guessing subconsciously. I don't know.

I slowly inclined my head as I nodded, "Maybe. Might be a false alarm. I think you should see a maester about this." I wasn't exactly an expert.

I don't think Branda was listening to me as she continued to cradle her non-existent baby bump, "Oh this is such a relief."

"...What?"

Her face broke out into a large wide smile. I think she ignored my flat reaction to her previous statement. My wife ignored me on a lot of things, "Truly, before this, I was beginning to think I was barren." Her eyes drifted towards me, "Or you impotent. Neither really a good thing for a prince and princess."

I blinked, "...What?"

She began to pace about, "You have no idea how long this kept me up at night. I was beginning to fear that I might have to ask for advice from your mother or the queen herself if there was a way for me to get with a child. You truly have no idea how embarrassing and humiliating that would have been."

I opened my mouth to say something, but only to quickly close it. Perhaps I was being entirely to selfish here? I think I was being a little bit selfish. I mean, I wasn't thinking about this from her point of view.

Basically, when it came to the female sex in Westeros, barring Dorne, actually, I think it was still probably a thing in Dorne, birthing a heir of some sort was imperative. It became even more imperative in the rest of Westeros that wasn't Dorne for the heir to be male.

Because you know, what sort of man allows themselves to be led around nilly-willy by a woman? Not the manly men of Westeros that was for sure.

Considering the usual average rate of our...pleasurable activities, I suppose she would have been a bit worried about her lack of getting with child with the way we went at things.

So instead of freaking out about this, I should be happy for her/us. She was essentially carrying out what she considered was her duty as a princess married to the second in line to the throne. And considering that was even more imperative now that war was on the horizon and that I will be marching out with Prince Duncan and whatever host to the Step Stones sometime next year, there would have been probably unbelievable amount of pressure on her, in case, gods forbid, something happened to me.

I could understand, I really could. Didn't stop me from freaking out about this whole potential parenting thing.

How the fuck was I supposed to deal with that?

Thankfully, it seemed Branda was completely oblivious to my internal panicking, "I wonder if it's going to be a boy or a girl." She had stopped her pacing and looked utterly radiant with the smile on her face. Quite different from the plastic smile on my own. Thankfully she didn't notice, "But you are right. I should check with the maester face!"

It was all a swirl afterwards and when it actually started making sense, I found myself fishing on the larger lake behind the palace.

I hate fishing. I find it boring.

But living in a world without the internet or the most basic necessities of a young adult of the 21st century, you eventually learn to take what you can get when it comes to social activities. I would have played football, introduced that, but unfortunately, the football that I had tried to teach the people around here seemed to how somewhat mutate itself into some strange mixture of rugby and Gaelic football.

Not that I minded either sport, but it was definitely not a sport that you played with a royal considering the sheer absurd, probably lethal, bone breaking tackles that went around.

I needed to sort that out. People were going to get paralysed by the way things were going.

I tried my best not to think about myself as a potential father. Why? Because I was going to be a walking disaster no matter how I looked at it.

"Aerys? I didn't take you for a fisher."

I turned around and saw Prince Duncan walking down a path that happened to come near where I happened to have been fishing. He wasn't alone either, and apart from a Kingsguard knight, I think it was Ser Gerold Hightower, the White Bull himself, considering that he was probably the second tallest knight in the Kingsguard behind his Lord Commander. He also had Jenny of Oldstones and in his hands, he held a small bundle.

Oh yeah, some time ago, Prince Duncan had become the father of a young babe by the name of Daeron Targaryen, named after his brother Prince Daeron who had died putting down a rebellion against a trio that went by the Rat, the Hawk and the Pig. I didn't even want to know.

So yeah, that had happened.

Duncan and his family approached me as I replied, "I recently got into it. It's rather relaxing at times." Lies, utter lies. Boring as all hell, but I needed to do something. I got up onto my feet and bowed at Jenny of Oldstones, "My lady."

The former peasant girl turned lady curtsied in return, "Prince Aerys, a pleasure to see you on this fine morning."

I could never understand Aerys' scorn or disregard for her. Jenny was a lovely lady and full of life and somewhat insightful when it came to matters that involved the common people, since she was/had(?) been one of those common people herself.

Thankfully, for the good of herself and Prince Duncan and the other nobility of the court, her time at court had seen her elocution improve and one wouldn't even take her for a smallfolk with the way she talked now. Aerys had made fun of her way of speaking once.

Duncan had taught him why he shouldn't do so in his presence or ever.

I looked at the bundle within Duncan's arms, "So how is my little cousin today? Not to much of a problem is he?"

Duncan's eyes warmed as he looked down at his son, "Better than most from what I can learn. He's a rather quiet little lordling."

"Oh that he is! His wet nurses has nothing bad to say about him at all. She always says that she has never had such an obedient babe before in her arms." Jenny elaborated happily, holding a small finger above her son's face. A finger that Daeron made a go for, releasing a fit of giggles when the finger just escaped his grasp.

I nodded as I tried my best not to point out that the wet nurse was probably saying the things she probably wanted to hear. That, or it was one of those things were people seemed to want to praise babies, no matter how much of a pain in the arse they are.

I was of the school of thought that found babies cute, but well within reason. When they start waking you up in the middle of the night or when you are trying to revise for that important end of term test over the holidays, then they are a right royal pain.

"I'm sure he is." I kept the sarcasm out of my voice. I looked at my uncle and realised that this man could very well help me with my current predicament, "Uncle, do you mind if we have some words in private?"

Duncan raised an eyebrow but nodded his head. He passed Daeron over to Jenny and left her and the babe in the ever vigilant care of Ser Gerold. We walked some way down the lake before he asked the all important question, "What do you want to know of me?"

"I'm going to be a father. I think." That revelation didn't surprise Duncan as much as I wanted it to. All he did was raise an eyebrow, so I ploughed on, "And I am this close to having a midlife crisis about it. I'm way too young to be a father."

The eyebrow dropped and Duncan looked almost amused at something or about something, "You are aware others have become fathers at a younger age than you?"

I opened my mouth to retort then I was hit with the truth of my setting and realised that was more than likely true. Still didn't at all help me try to come to terms with the fucking bombshell that I was to be a father, "Not helping uncle. But really, what do I do? I mean, I am panicking here. I don't know what being a father entails." All I could think about was how so unready I was for this and how I really, really didn't want for this to happen even though a part of me realised that it was going to happen sometime in the future.

"You come upon it naturally." Duncan said with a nonchalant but subtle raising and lowering of his shoulders, "I panicked as well when I first held Daeron and wondered what I was going to do as a father or how I was going to turn out as a father. It turns out I didn't need to worry. I can't describe it any other way other than that it just comes to you."

Wow...that was so helpful. Not.

That was like one of the most clichéd shit ever said when it came to parenting. Was it still possible for me to run off somewhere and get a ship to the Summer Islands or something? Yes, I was actually thinking of doing that.

People do strange things when they are panicked.

I tried to calm the raging headache that was at the back of my mind and decided to change the subject, "It seems the Martells have finally arrived. Saw some of their guardsmen wandering about."

"A sandstorm delayed them, but they are here now and the councils can begin properly."

"Shouldn't I at least sit in? I might as well learn the finer intricacies of strategy and the workings of a war council." Oooh, strategy and tactics. Should make a note to introduce wargames. That shit helped the Prussians make Europe their bitch for a while.

Table top games were already a thing with Cyvasse, can't be that difficult to modify that to make it somewhat similar to the Kriegsspiel of the Prussians. If only I could remember more than the bare basics or had been more interested in table top games I could have had something here.

"Perhaps in the future. Your current learnings on warfare with Maester Gyldayn is more than sufficient for the nonce."

Why people still insisted on handling me with the kiddy gloves was beyond me. You would think by now, I would have garnered some respect, what, with the shit I had been doing.

"Well, at the very least, can you tell me the basics?"

Duncan raised an eyebrow, "Such as?"

I shrugged, "I don't know. The number of men the Band of Nine can call upon. How many we can call upon. Whether we are going to make them come to us, or we are going to strike at them first with a pre-emptive strike."

"Pre-emptive strike?"

"Yeah," I nodded without really thinking, "Like invade the Stepstones to stop them from having a base of operations or something." I think that was why Jaehaerys invaded the Stepstones in the first place.

Duncan seemed in thought about something, "...I suppose they could do that. The Stepstones do allow the Nine to have a base of operations for an invasion of Westeros. And the islands themselves will protect their invasion fleet from being scattered by storms." He looked at me strangely, "That's rather insightful of you. I didn't think you had it in you. You continue to surprise me, nephew."

By now, I had come to wholly accept that some people in my family hadn't really expected much from Aerys from day one. So I let it slide of my back, and hey, that was in regards to Aerys, not me.

"So no-one thought of the Stepstones as a potential battleground?"

"Don't be silly. Lord Ormund is not only a dutiful Hand, he is also a capable strategist and warrior. He recognised the threat the Stepstones represented as soon as these Ninepenny Kings announced themselves. In truth, any half decent lord with a schooling in warfare would recognise the threat the islands possess. We just didn't think they had the capabilities of actually being a credible threat at the time."

I smirked, "Then they went and conquered the Disputed Lands and Tyrosh."

"That they did. The world is full of surprises, I suppose." Duncan replied with a sigh. He rubbed at his jaw, "At first, they only had a small fleet of sellsails and with such a fleet, overrunning the pirates of the Stepstones is simply ridiculous. But with the fleet of Tyrosh? Now that's very possible."

He was listening to me, I decided to press the advantage, "See? I make some good points and as you said, insightful. I really should be in those meetings. If for the experience if nothing else."

Duncan regarded me with a cool stare with his violet eyes before sighing, "Very well, I'll see whether Father has an extra chair in the room."

I fist pumped and grinned. My uncle just merely raised an eyebrow at the gesture, and I suppose he filed that away as one of those strange things his nephew did, "But seriously," I said suddenly, fist pump and happiness gone, "Tell me you at least have more to say about the whole fatherhood thing. I am worrying and panicking here. I am actually thinking off running of to the Summer Islands or something."

Duncan sighed as we turned and began to make our way back to where we left Jenny, Daeron and Ser Gerold.