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Dance with the Moon, Reach for the Sun
Chapter 2
In the beginning, Baela had been afraid of the thunderstorms that shook her new home ever so often but with time, she had come to love them. She could stay put for hours, watching fascinated as the lightnings wove their embroidery in the sky and sea – a much beautiful embroidery than anything Rhaenyra or their septa could sew. She would gladly open her window to see and hear better but the air of expectation and concern all over the castle kept her glued to her father's side in the antechamber.
"Rhaenyra will have a babe," Rhaena announced, looking from her sister to her father. "She's giving birth to it right now."
"I know," Prince Daemon said.
"Is the babe going to like me, Father?" she asked.
"I am sure it will like you, Rhaena."
"And if I don't like the babe, Father, can we send him back?" she asked again.
"No, my sweet, but you'll like the babe, I promise."
"Babes," Jace proclaimed and raised his wooden sword. "Babes are small and stupid."
"You are stupid," Luke cried out and tried to grab his brother's sword. He was very jealous because he had to wait until his nameday to receive a sword of his own and start training.
Jace brandished the sword and Daemon went over and took it from the boy's hand. "Can't you sit still?" he asked, giving both boys a very stern look. "Just for a moment?"
Everyone fell silent and Baela could hear the storm still raging outside. They had been not allowed to go out and play for days because of the torrential rains and lightnings that made the tower dragons look alive and real dragons bellow in rage and defiance at something claiming to be stronger than them. Beneath it, though, the sea roared and smelled of salt, singing a different lullaby than the one it usually did. Baela loved this new song, too. She loved falling asleep to it and going far, far away, being carried gently by the green sea with her own dragon who was as great and wonderful as Caraxes and as gentle as Syrax. When she woke up, her egg was sometimes warm.
Prince Daemon waved at Septa Aniessa who hovered nearby. "Keep an eye over them," he said. "I don't care whether they fight. I just want to find them all in one piece when I am back."
The young septa nodded. "Yes, Your Grace," she said and gave the boys a stern look. "Prince Jacaerys, you can sit over there and read the book you have to finish. Prince Lucarys, you can come over here. Lady Baela, you too. Do you want me to tell you the story of Daenys the Dreamer?"
Scowling, the children did what they were told to. They did not have much in common – boys and girls had different occupations – but a healthy respect of the soft-spoken, mouse-haired woman was something all five of them felt. Her orders were something no one disputed.
Septa Aniessa had just reached the part where the other dragonlords laughed at the Exile when the door to the birthing chamber opened and the princess' parting words could be heard quite clearly, "Go away, Daemon. Just stay outside and don't ask me stupid questions like, Are you in pain? Of course I am!"
"Is Rhaenyra angry?" Rhaena asked, confused.
"She's fine," Septa Aniessa answered. "If she has the strength to lash out like this, she'll be fine."
A little later, just when the first unfurling of dawn chased away the storm that had been plaguing them for so long, Rhaenyra gave a last shriek, long and feral, and when it melted into a cry of release, a high thin cry could be heard through it.
Prince Aegon had been born.
He turned out to be quite confusing, though.
"Are you sure he's a boy?" Baela askes suspiciously. She knew what boys looked like and this was no boy at all.
Rhaenyra laughed and assured her that yes, Aegon was a boy and he'd grow up as big as his brothers in a few years.
"Few years?" Baela asked, disappointed. "So long? What is he going to do until then?"
Rhaena, on the other hand, stared at the newborn fascinated. "He's so tiny, Father!" she exclaimed. "I like him!"
The babe opened his eyes and stared straight at her. She smiled at him, delighted. "He liked me, too!" she cried out.
"When he starts crying, you won't think so," Jace murmured. "Joff was just as small but noisier."
"Was not!" Joff cried out just before Prince Daemon shooed all of them out so Rhaenyra could have a little rest with her newborn.
The stableboys who cleaned the outer parts of the Red Keep's dragonpit looked in horror when the little girl came near, immaculately dressed in blue velvet and with a blue ribbon in her golden-silver hair.
"Princess!" one of them stuttered, the broom in his hands clattering down the pavement. "You should not be here!"
"I am not a princess," Baela said. Whenever someone addressed her as such, she always looked around, expecting to see Rhaenyra. "And I should be here."
"It's too dangerous, my lady," one of the boys insisted. "No one is allowed to go nearer."
Baela smiled and shook her head. "I am not anyone," she said and held her head high with all her six-year-old pride. "I am the blood of the dragon. It isn't dangerous to me."
They started to argue further but she simply sidestepped them and entered the huge echoing bowels of the dragonpit.
The smell of fire, blood and something other, something wild and untamed, something so very dragon-ish would be enough to keep the servants at bay even without their orders but to Baela, it was as sweet as perfume. She remembered where Caraxes' stall was from flying with Father the day before and she sat down on the floor beside him.
"You're so beautiful," she said, softly. "You're so magnificent, Caraxes. Give me your warmth, will you? Help my egg hatch."
She took the egg out of the silk bag she carried. It was growing rapidly and it was now almost as long as her fore-arm, green streaked by tender pearly lines. It had started getting warmer, too. Maybe Caraxes' warmth would help it hatch sooner? She reached out with the egg in her outstretched hands and felt the heat of the dragon scales like a caress.
"What are you doing here?" a boy's voice asked all of a sudden and she stiffened immediately. Caraxes raised his head and roared.
Baela rose and laid the egg on the floor before turning to meet Aemond's stare defiantly. "What are you doing here?" she asked. "This is Caraxes' stall."
He smirked. "This is my father's castle, don't you know it? I can go wherever I want."
Baela smiled. "Not here," she said. "Caraxes doesn't like you."
Indeed, the dragon that had been almost indifferent to the girl's presence now rumbled and roared, hitting his forelegs against the floor.
Aemond took a prudent step back. His eyes fell on the green egg. "What were you doing?" he mocked. "Trying to make him hatch it for you?"
Since that was exactly what Baela had been doing, she blushed.
He made a step in the direction of the egg. He had seen twelve namedays and was big for his age, towering two full heads over Baela who was small for her years.
Without hesitation, she stood in his way. "Get out," she said as firmly as she could. You should never let your fear show, her father often repeated to her, Rhaena, and the boys. It doesn't matter whether you're afraid or not. You should always look confident, and people will think you are. "This is Caraxes' stall and you really, really don't want for my lord father to find you here."
"Only if you give me the egg," he drawled.
"Go and find one of your own," Baela snapped, still barring his way. At her side, Caraxes roared again, rattling his chains.
He smirked. "I don't need an egg, you silly girl. I'll bond an old dragon."
"When?" she shot back. "When you get as old as His Grace?"
His face darkened and Baela realized that she had hit a nerve.
She should have stopped at that but as her septa bitterly complained, she was as fearless as her father.
"Are you sure you'll be able to bond a dragon then?" she challenged. "You haven't even flown yet. You're just envious because I've flown Caraxes and…"
His face darkened; only her swiftness saved her from having her jaw smashed by his fist.
The battle had started; with a war cry, Baela flew at him, clawing at his face; he yelled and pushed her back. She landed hard on the floor and felt a pain burning all the way up her back; a moment later, though, she was back in place, ready for a charge.
"Are you mad?" Aemond asked with disbelief. "I can crush you, you fool."
"Come on," she invited. "Try."
Her neck hurt from tilting her head back so she could look at him in the eye. Next to them, Caraxes roared and strained against his chains.
This time, she did not escape the crushing blow to her cheekbone; instinctively, she grabbed the hand that had delivered it and bit so hard that she felt one of her teeth falling out.
Aemond yanked his hand and it went to the dagger at his belt.
"Leave her," a new voice rang out.
Baela and Aemond looked up, equally surprised to see Jace there, his pale face flushed with fury.
"Don't you meddle, Strong," Aemond drawled, flashing his blade.
Jace did not flinch. "I will meddle," he said firmly. "You're very brave against little girls, I see. Try me."
"Gladly," Aemond agreed and flashed his knife once again. "Come on, little boy."
Jace quickly looked around and grabbed a besom standing near the door.
Baela lunged for a bucket of water and raised it up, ready to splash the content in Aemond's face.
Aemond looked at her, his surprise clearly written on her face.
Jace laughed. "This isn't Helaena here, Aemond," he said. "You have come to the wrong shop."
For a moment, Aemond stood undecided, calculating his chances. He was the only one possessed of a blade but with his bunch of branches Jacaerys could keep him at bay. And Baela could splash the content of the bucket in his face and make him lose his balance for a moment – just enough for the young Strong to come down on him and grab the dagger. Only at a few steps away from them, Caraxes was roaring and trying to get free. His chains rankled louder and louder.
Jace's eyes never left his uncle's face. "Baela," he said calmly. "Take the egg."
She did so without objections and handed the bag to him before taking the bucket back. Jacaerys took her by the hand and they left the dragonpit backwards, their eyes trained on Aemond. Once they were out, Baela left the bucked next to the door. Jace threw the besom aside.
They looked at each other and laughed.
"Come on," Jace said. "The maester should have a look at your face."
"No," she mumbled.
Jace nodded. He didn't like maesters and treatments either.
"Please," Baela said. "Don't tell Father or Rhaenyra."
"They won't know it from me," he promised.
So they headed for their part of the Red Keep under the bright sun in silence that neither minded.
"He was right, though," Jace suddenly said. "You are not behaving like a girl. You were rather… scary"
But it was said with a smile and not like a reproach at all. Not like when Septa Aniessa said it. And at last, Baela felt that Jacaerys was her friend.
