Chapter Text
“Aemon! Do not laugh!” said Jocelyn, barely able to contain her own amusement.
It would seem their Rhaenys was a bit gassy this morning. A lot gassy.
Jocelyn continued to gently pat her daughter’s back as the babe let out another toot – much louder than her simultaneous little grunts – before settling down again.
The sun had not yet risen over the isle of Dragonstone when the newest resident of the dark castle first cried out to wake her parents. Rhaenys’ father, the princely lord of that castle, got to her first, but alas he had not the equipment to satiate his whining daughter.
The baby princess was thusly given over to her mother, joining Jocelyn in bed for her first feed of the day.
“Is she still asleep?” Jocelyn whispered to her husband after a time. She shifted slightly so that Aemon could glimpse Rhaenys’ sweet face, resting upon her shoulder.
They’d only had her for a few weeks now, but the couple had learned quickly that noise or even movement from Rhaenys did not necessarily mean she was awake nor did silence always indicate that their baby was asleep.
This time, the princess was indeed away dreaming as confirmed by her father.
When he saw his wife’s intentions, the Prince of Dragonstone lent his support to slowly shift the sleeping babe from Jocelyn’s shoulder to her lap without any jostling.
They both breathed a sigh of relief when their girl remained unconscious.
Jocelyn took her time to carefully undo Rhaenys’ swaddling so that she might employ the techniques taught to her by the midwives. She would gently manoeuvre the baby’s lower half to help release any remaining trapped wind.
The new mother did not get very far before her daughter startled.
Another fart, the loudest yet, seemed to have jolted Rhaenys from her slumber. And the couple received a rare glimpse of reflective purple.
Their now wide-eyed child found herself lying atop the featherbed. She looked up at her parents hovering above as they in turn looked down at her. Both the prince and his lady were frozen in place. In their limited experience thus far, Rhaenys did not approve of being set down for any amount of time, preferring to be held aloft, but perhaps she would yet go back to sleep.
The couple braced themselves, but their hopes were in vain. They bravely had to confront their own broken hearts at the sight of their baby’s quickly crumpling face.
Cheeks red and eyes wet, Rhaenys looked almost accusatory. She’d been betrayed! Before her cries could escalate, Jocelyn once again cradled the infant in her arms, swaying slightly to sooth her daughter’s tears.
While she did eventually stop crying, another noise left Rhaenys. A long and wet sounding one.
“Are you finished little girl?” Aemon cooed in the tongue of their ancestors.
Apparently not. Rhaenys grunted as she continued passing waste.
“Oh, that was a lot,” said Jocelyn. “More than ever before! Do you think she’s been in terrible pain all this while? No wonder she was so fussy earlier.”
“Regardless, she now seems greatly relieved,” said the prince, wary of his wife’s tendency to unnecessarily blame herself. “Let me take her to be cleaned up and changed.”
Jocelyn released the child to her father. She had been getting better at that of late.
When the dark-haired princess first came, her mother was loath to have anyone take Rhaenys out of her sight. Jocelyn would fret and fret, spiralling into the most distressing of imaginings with every minute that they were separated.
These days her dread was less severe but she still misliked being apart from Rhaenys.
It was just that Jocelyn had waited so very long for her child; she did not want to be parted for any longer than was strictly necessary.
It had been easier when she was still pregnant. Where she went, the baby went. She could physically feel her girl’s presence always.
Towards the end, Jocelyn had taken to deliberately rousing the unborn Rhaenys whenever she felt it had been too long without movement. A little nudge through her belly always yielded results.
If only she’d known then that they would now be paying for that habit.
Princess Rhaenys was a very active baby. She was always wriggling about when allowed her freedom.
Recently she’d learned how to disengage her little arms from her swaddle – a habit her parents hoped would not continue, for Rhaenys had ended up scratching her own sweet face more than once as a result.
Still, even now that a new, more secure swaddling technique was being employed, the princess would regularly fight to stay awake. It was always the same with Rhaenys. She'd slowly begin to shut her grey eyes – ever more purple with each passing day – only to frown and fuss again when she recalled that she must not let her parents rest.
Not until whomever was carrying her had completed several circuits of the chamber would Rhaenys finally let herself drift off. And even then, she could not be placed in her cradle right away.
It was a rather delicate operation to get the princess to go down, but her mother didn’t mind. The baby’s weight upon her chest or else in her arms was more than a comfort.
Jocelyn preferred Rhaenys to be where she could see her, so she was glad that her prince was willing to take up the convoluted task of getting their daughter settled enough to sleep in those times when she was too exhausted herself. So far, it had not been necessary to send the baby off to her nursemaid apart from those occasions when she had soiled or wet herself and needed to be changed.
The girl must now be giving Rhaenys a bath, for Aemon had been gone a while...
Jocelyn might have grown anxious over the separation but instead took the opportunity to get more sleep. She was truly overcoming her fears.
Aemon would be proud.
“ ...it down to a third instead. He agreed with my original proposal in the end, but I’d like to consult the ledgers once more since- Ahh, big yawn! You’ve lost interest in your boring papa; I do not blame you, my darling little treasure. Let’s see how your m- My love, you’re awake.”
Jocelyn smiled to see her husband walking with Rhaenys near the window.
“She is fine,” he said. “You may continue to rest if you’d like.”
But Jocelyn wished to hold her baby.
She left her bed to sit upon the cushioned chair by the fire. Rhaenys was about due to be fed again anyway. Jocelyn was in fact surprised by her baby’s lack of a screaming demand for milk. And doubly so when a freshly full Rhaenys then took to her crib without fuss, falling asleep much quicker than usual.
“We’ve been on all sorts of adventures exploring the castle while you were sleeping,” said Aemon. “All the excitement of such novelty must have worn her out.”
“Where did you go?”
“Down to the kitchens where she thoroughly distracted the cooks from their work with her presence. I do not doubt that they will spoil her with treats most like when she is old enough! It was not terribly cold, so I then brought her out into the yard to meet Caraxes again. Though he is still not very impressed with her I’m afraid.”
“She has been taking up more of your time and attention these days,” said Jocelyn. “You haven’t been on a long flight together since before she was born. In fact, today looks to be rather a good day for it...”
Rhaenys had arrived three weeks prior amidst a particularly damp winter. But the icy rains had ceased for the time being. Jocelyn knew that her husband must yearn for the skies, and she did not want him holding back his desire solely for her sake. She would be fine having only Rhaenys for company and her ladies would come later when they woke.
After the servants brought their breakfast, she made it her mission to encourage him to go and eventually Jocelyn’s prince accepted her reassurances.
She did so love to watch her husband’s joy as he flew upon his dragon. Jocelyn sat herself at the window with Rhaenys and from her perch caught a glimpse of Caraxes shooting into the air – a deep red arrow, vivid against the pale grey sky.
“Do you see them? Will you one day wish to fly as well lovely girl?” she brightly asked the baby whose only response was to catch a loose part of her mother’s dark braid in her chubby fist.
Jocelyn laughed as she battled her babe for possession of her own hair.
“Gods, you are strong. Your papa will return to find me scalped!” she said. “Look sweetling, there goes Caraxes again.”
Rhaenys however remained committed to fiercely tugging on Jocelyn’s braid. Perhaps a different dragon might one day hold the princess’ attention.