Chapter Text
Maelora rushed through the hallways giddily, murmuring apologies to the Lords she passed as she squeezed between conversations and past Kingsguards. She turned quickly into Rhaenyra’s rooms, grinning widely as she stopped her rush, perching on the bed next to her sister. “Another boy?” She asked excitedly as Rhaenyra smiled softly, passing the small bundle to her.
“Another boy,” she confirmed, watching with soft eyes as Maelora took the babe into her arms, holding it against her chest. “You have quite the collection of nephews, sister.”
Maelora stayed quiet, rocking the newborn and kissing his forehead. “I brought you something.” She reached into one of the pockets of her dress, pulling out a glass vial of a muted blue liquid. “This should help stop the bleeding.” She pressed it into Rhaenyra’s hand, troking her hand over the babe’s already-dark hair. “Drink it now, we will not have long before my mother calls you to her.”
Rhaenyra scoffed, but drank the potion, grimacing at the taste. “I am thankful that you bring me these things, but by the gods are they terrible.” Maelora giggled, and leaned over to kiss her sister’s head.
“Princess.” The voice of Ser Cole drifted through the door, and Maelora’s good mood soured. “Her Grace the Queen asks for the child to be brought to her.”
Rhaenyra’s jaw ticked, and Maelora stood to help her sister up. “I’ll walk with you.” She rubbed the palm of her hand against Rhaenyra’s arm, taking on the majority of the heir’s weight, her other arm still holding the babe. “I am sorry that it is my blood that causes you this pain.” She murmured, pressing a gentle kiss to her sister’s temple.
Rhaenyra shook her head, tightening her grip on Maelora’s arm as they started up the stairs. “Alicent is as much your mother as she is mine, dear sister. You may be her blood, but you could not be more unlike the Queen and your brothers.” Her hand clenched around Maelora’s wrist. “Give me the babe.” The redhead did as she was bid, slowly giving the newborn to his mother, and using her now-free hand to brace against her sister's back.
Maelora smiled, continuing to help the heir up the stairs. “I see Laenor is nowhere to be found. Busy with the other boys, then?”
Rhaenyra chuckled, nodding. “Our sons are his very heart.” A smile spread across her face, even as she whimpered from the strain of walking. “They are in the Dragonpit. Arrax and Vermax are almost big enough for them to ride; my lord husband is helping them saddle.” Maelora bit her tongue, not wanting her sister to see how much the mention of her nephews having dragons when she herself didn’t stung, but Rhaenyra saw through her as always. “You will have a dragon, Maelora.” She butted her shoulder against the younger girl’s as they finally made it to the top of the stairs, only a few hundred feet away from the Queen’s chambers. “Do you remember how long it took our dear cousin Laena? She claimed Vhagar at five and ten. You are not much younger than she was; you will find your pair soon enough.”
Maelora smiled at her sister, but tugged playfully on her arm. “I am the one who should be comforting you right now, dear sister. You are newly out of the birthing bed, and already walking.” Her voice turned serious, but she continued to smile at the heir until they reached Alicent’s rooms. Ser Criston Cole, who had gone ahead of them, opened the door without so much as a nod to Rhaenyra or Maelora.
“Rhaenyra.” Alicent greeted, her voice sickly-sweet and saccharine. Maelora made a gagging noise in the back of her throat, and Rhaenyra barely suppressed a giggle. “Should you not be resting?”
Maelora’s eyes rolled as she helped Rhaenyra to a cushioned seat, grabbing another blanket to wrap around the babe and her sister. “My sister could hardly be expected to part with her child so soon, Mother.” Her hair, dark red and almost-auburn like her mother’s, was in stark contrast to her pale skin and Valyrian-violet eyes. The Queen’s smile tightened, but she stepped towards the pair anyway, watching as Maelora pulled away from Rhaenyra to greet their father with a kiss on the cheek.
Viserys patted the young girl on the back, kissing her as well, before standing– with the help of Maelora– and staggering to his eldest daughter. “Has he been named?” He asked, his eyes filled with wonder and adoration for the small child curled against his mother’s breast.
“Joffrey.” Rhaenyra smiled down at the babe, kissing the crown of his head. “For the dear friend that my husband lost.” Her eyes darkened, and darted towards the door where Cristin Cole stood. The Kingsguard didn’t have the decency to even bow his head in shame for the life he had taken oh-so many years ago, and merely closed the door, stepping out into the hallway.
“An odd name, for a Valyrian.” The Queen grumbled, and Maelora sighed through her nose.
“I believe my sister is due for rest, Mother, Father.” She stepped forward from the shadows where she had been lurking, pressing another kiss to Viserys’ cheek and giving a curt nod to her mother. “If I may, I would take her back to her rooms to rest.”
“Is that not the job of her maids?” Alicent held out a hand to stop her, and Maelora's nose wrinkled in distaste.
“I do not mind.” The young girl took the babe into her arms before helping her sister to her feet. “Rhaenyra is not only my sister, she is the heir.” Maelora quipped, looking her mother in the eyes, and passed Joffrey back to his mother. “And besides, I do quite enjoy her company.”
Maelora’s head whipped to the side, and her eyes fluttered as tears sprung forward. Alicent’s fingers clenched around the girl’s chin, and she whimpered. Rhaenyra stood from the Small Council table, as did Lord Corlys Velaryon, but the Queen did not seem to notice, and her grip only tightened on her daughter’s flesh. “Is this how I raised you to behave? Flouncing in late, disrespecting your father and I’s time? Where in the Seven Hells have you been, girl?”
“Your Grace-” Rhaenyra started, her voice tight and loud, but Alicent held a hand to her, waving her off.
“Tell me!” Alicent all but screeched, throwing Maelora back against the wall, the Kingsguard now stepping to their feet, hands clenched around their swords.
“Your Grace.” Rhaenyra stepped away from her seat, then, and slid around Alicent to take her sister by the shoulders. “She was running an errand for me, step-mother.” Rhaenyra’s violet eyes, so alike to the Queen’s children’s, sparked in anger, and she tucked Maelora into her side. “Now is as good a time as any, I suppose, to let you and my father, the king, know that I will be returning to my place on Dragonstone. My lord-husband Laenor Velaryon, his guards, our sons…” Rhaenyra stepped further away from Alicent, pulling Maelora with her. “And my dear sister Maelora will be joining me.” The Queen opened her mouth, but Rhaenyra held up her hand– a mockery of what Alicent had done moments earlier. “I am taking her to ward, and we hope that she will find a dragon to claim within the pits of Dragonstone.”
Viserys only then looked up from the table, as though just realizing his family was unseated. “What a… wonderful idea, my daughter.” Both Rhaenyra and Maelora were still staring at Alicent, as if scared she would lunge if they looked away.
“Indeed.” Alicent's jaw ticked, but she returned to her seat. “Off with you, child.” She waved off Maelora. “I suppose you have quite a bit of packing to do, then.”
Rhaenyra patted Maelora on the shoulder, and gently pushed her towards the door, nodding. “Laenor will come to collect you before we leave. Get some rest, the voyage isn’t long but it is difficult.” The girl nodded, and stepped around the table to plant a kiss on Viserys’ head.
“We shall miss you at court, granddaughter.” Otto spoke finally, and reached out to grab her wrist. “Are you sure you wish to go so far from home?”
Maelora flinched as his fingers closed around her arm, and she glanced at Rhaenyra. “I believe the princess has made up her mind.” Lord Velaryon, who hadn’t yet sat, leaned more heavily on the table. “Although it is true we will miss the sweet dragon, she will learn more on Dragonstone with the Princess Rhaenyra and my son.” He gave a small smile to Maelora, who, in the time he had been at court since her birth, had endeared herself to him as she had to everyone else. “So I would pray that you release her, Lord Hightower.” Otto let go of her with a raised eyebrow, and she gave a small curtsy to the lords before hurrying out the chambers, Rhaenyra placing a hand on her shoulder as she went.