Silver Tears of the Moon

Baelor Targaryen had fought in six great tournaments and the Seven knew how many lesser ones. He had taken part in real battle where the other side didn't mean to unhorse him but kill him. He had spent his entire life giving wounds and taking them and yet he had never thought that such pain was possible. He now knew why head wounds killed. By the Warrior, there were those moments when he truly wished Maekar had wielded this mace of his with just a little more strength.

"Do not say it," his brother warned. "Even in jest."

"Who is jesting?!"

It was meant to be a snap but to his disgust, it came out like a faint whisper. Naturally!

"Please, would you sit down?" he added. "You make me dizzy just by looking at you pace."

Maekar obeyed with remarkable speed, a feat that Baelor hadn't even known he was capable of. But he wouldn't suffer a new wound like this one even for the rare treat of a so agreeable Maekar. It was so not worth it…

"You look terrible," he stated in one of the rare moments the headache had mercifully slowed down. "Go and have some rest, for the Seven's sake! I won't die and honestly, when I look at you like this, it isn't helping at all. I am the one whose head was almost split in two but you're the one who looks sick."

Pangs of conscience couldn't be an easy thing to bear, he supposed. And since there had been two days between his receiving the wound and the maesters' reassurance that he was going to live, Maekar had had more than enough time to think of the other possibility.

"I am not sick," Maekar said sharply. "Being a thoughtless fool isn't a sickness."

And you don't want to sleep, perhaps? Baelor wondered. Judging by the dark shades under his brother's eyes, violet matching the colour of the very eyes, he could imagine what Maekar dreamed of when he did go to sleep. A little part of him felt something akin to angry glee but it was swiftly swallowed by sound reason. Maekar hadn't made him go to that field, had he? He hadn't even wanted him there. And he had faced Baelor and… and… who had been the other one? he couldn't remember… at the same time. He had hardly had any time to see where he was aiming, let alone consider vulnerable parts. "The damned Warrior," Baelor murmured and Maekar leaned closer to hear him better.

"What?" he asked but Baelor was already falling asleep.


It was through the haze of this sleep, sometimes heavier than his usual one and bringing him close to the Stranger indeed that he became aware of the clumsy gratitudes and awkward words and promises of a huge lunk of youth kneeling at his bedside. Promises? "I'll take good care of him," the hedge knight promised and Baelor got the feeling that he should know what he was talking about but he didn't. He looked at Maekar for help but for once, Maekar wasn't looking at him. He was conversing with Aegon in low whispers and by the time the boy took Ser Duncan's place at the bedside, Baelor had trouble staying awake, let alone processing his nephew's words.

The whole visit felt like something that he had dreamed up. He didn't even think of it until everyone had passed through his room – Valarr, Maekar, the maesters. Aerion, of course, didn't, but Baelor wouldn't have wanted him here anyway. If Maekar hadn't sent him away, Baelor would have advised that he did.

"So, where is Aegon?" he asked and Maekar gave him a look of surprise.

"You don't remember?"

"No," Baelor said and then he did, kind of.

"Don't strain yourself," Maekar said quickly and proceeded to tell him the story which had Baelor gaping at him and then laughing. Oh he'd like to see those two wandering around the realm!

Laughing was a bad, bad idea though, so he stopped. "I hope it'll do Aegon some good," he said seriously.

"I hope so as well," Maekar replied, very seriously.

Baelor tried a grin again, he just couldn't resist. "May I watch when you explain this to Father and Mother?"

Maekar glared, anger pointed at Baelor rather than himself for the first time since the trial. "It isn't fair to remind me about this."

"It is," Baelor argued. Indeed, he had the feeling that after Maekar's conversation with their parents, even that small part of him that took delight in his brother's remorse would feel vindicated.


The Queen's hands shook ever so slightly as she embraced him but that was about all the concern and relief she would let herself show. Four boys close in age had taught her to accept accidents and bloodshed as a part of her daily routine – and this time, she had the additional solace of knowing that he'd be fine. Still, her smile was a little shaky when she took a seat across him and gave both him and Maekar a stern look. "I thought we were over with this since you were sixteen or something," she said. "I thought I'd have to take it only from the children. Instead, you go and do this. I wish I could send you to your chambers for a week or two."

Or the rest of our lives, Baelor thought but he knew better than say it. To his enormous relief, she didn't think that Maekar was at fault at all for Baelor's injuries and he was surprised to be relieved. But with his getting better, the little demon that took glee in Maekar's regret had finally gone quiet, so he didn't even cherish the moment their mother got to know as he thought he would.

"You've lost Aegon?" Mariah couldn't believe her ears. She rose and started pacing the solar before spinning back and pouncing on Maekar like a lion, albeit quite a small one. "Is that what happens when the two of you play tavern fight? Find him and get him back!"

"I didn't lose him," Maekar replied patiently. "I sent him with…"

"Get him back! We've already seen what those two can get involved in."

It was Aerion who started the whole mess, Baelor thought but it would be stupid to say so. His mother might not approve of Aerion too much but she doted on her grandchildren, this one included. If Aegon could appear here out of thin air right now, she'd spank him – but then she'd hug and spoil him to no end.

Maekar and their mother kept arguing and Baelor was quickly reminded that Mariah could probably command men at-arms in battle no worse than any warlord. With four children and only six years between the oldest and the youngest one, she had had to learn to run her household like a battle formation, or else nothing would have ever got done. He made the mistake of trying to support Maekar, at which point Mariah pretty much ignored that he was still wounded and launched an attack.

When they finally, mercifully left her chambers, both of them looked wrung out. And while it was over for Baelor, the next morning he learned that the Lord Commander of the Kingsguard had been assigned to Maekar to help him find Aegon, with the threat that unless Maekar accepted him, he'd have to work with the Master of Whisperers on the same task.

As he watched his brother trying to work his way out of this, Baelor laughed and felt that they had been truly blessed. They had narrowly avoided a tragedy. He felt like nothing could bring the dragons low, not even the very Seven. Around them, winter was slowly giving way to spring.