YEAR 109AC
(maid mela's POV)
Mela had served the royal family for twenty years, had nursed King Viserys's first children with Queen Aemma, and thought she had seen every manner of princely temperament. But Prince Rhaegar... the boy unsettled her in ways she could not name. As she had seen him one time from afar.
She was the new maid appointed to prince rhaegar, even though she had heard some troubling things form her peers and friends about the prince, she still prided herself as a good nurse and thought she was ready to take on whatever would come her way as she had already had the experience at handling babes.
She entered the nursery that morning with honeyed bread and warm milk, and greeted upon seeing the prince
"Good morning, my sweet prince"
The boy looked up from his blocks, which he was playing with and looked at mela.
Mela felt her smile falter for a second. Those eyes not Targaryen purple, but bright as dawn, fixed upon her with an intensity that made her skin prickle. He did not blink. Did not move. Just... stared.
'Did I Say something wrong?' she thought, keeping her smile plastered on her face.
Five seconds passed. Then ten. The silence stretched between them like a chasm, and Mela felt sweat begin to gather at the small of her back despite the morning chill.
'Is he angry with me? Did I do something wrong? Perhaps the bread is not to his liking? But I was informed that he loved honeyed bread'
'is it because of me?' she was not sure what caused the prince to keep staring at her
Twenty seconds now. The prince's beautiful face remained blank as fresh parchment, revealing nothing. No smile, no frown, no recognition that she had even spoken. Just those terrible, unblinking eyes boring into her as if she were some specimen to be examined.
Mela's smile died entirely. Her hands trembled slightly, making the tray rattle. There was something unnerving about the little boy's gaze
'There is something wrong with this child. The queen will not hear it, but I know. I have raised a dozen babes, and none have looked at me like this. Like I am not even human. Like I am a thing to be studied.perhaps the rumors are not just simple rumors?'
After sometime. She wanted to leave. Gods help her, she wanted to flee this room and never come back. But she was nurse to the royal children. She had a duty.
"My prince?" she tried again, her voice wavering. "I brought your favorite—" she said as she took a step forward to keep the tray in front the prince but--
And then it happened.
The prince's eyes locked onto hers with sudden, absolute focus. His gaze intensified, if such a thing were possible, and he did not look away. Did not blink. His small face remained expressionless, but those eyes... those eyes seemed to pierce straight through her skull and examine her very soul.
Mela gasped, stumbling backward. The tray wobbled in her hands, milk sloshing dangerously close to the rim.
"Seven preserve us," she whispered, her heart hammering against her ribs.
She couldn't even fathom how a child of 2 name day old could make such expression, ahem his face was expression less, cold and distant, the eyes not belonging to a child but instead a war veteran who had seen countless cruelty and has lost his sense of self and emotions.
The boy continued to stare. She remembered about the rumors which had spread about the prince and--
It was too much. Mela turned and fled, her sensible shoes slapping against the stone floor, the breakfast tray clutched to her chest like a shield. She did not stop until she reached the servants' corridor, where she pressed her back against the cool stone wall and tried to calm her racing heart.
She couldn't take of that death stare from her mind, she couldn't bring herself at ease, her pride as a nurse was shattered to pieces.
"Mela?" Old nan, one of the laundresses, shuffled past with a basket of linens.
"What ails you, girl? You look as though you've seen a ghost." The old woman asked in concern
"The young prince," Mela managed, her voice still shaking.
"Prince Rhaegar. He... he just stared at me. No kept on staring at me as if possessed. He Did not say a word. Did not even blink. Just... stared"
Nan's wrinkled face creased with sympathy. "Aye, the boy is strange, that one. I've heard the other girls talk. He Never smiles, never cries. Just watches with those gold eyes like he can see your sins laid bare."
She leaned closer, lowering her voice. "My grandmother, gods have rest her, used to say that the Targaryens are closer to gods than men. Perhaps that is what we see in the boy something not quite human."
Mela crossed herself, touching the seven-pointed star at her throat.
"I have served this family faithfully for twenty years. But that child..." She shuddered. "There is something wrong with him. I am certain of it."
"Have you spoken to Her Grace?"
"The queen?" Mela shook her head. "She knows. She must know. But what mother wants to hear that her son is... is..." She could not finish the sentence.
Wrong. Broken. Touched by something dark.
And she didn't want the ier of the queen on her for speaking about the prince in that way
"I will return in an hour," Mela said finally, straightening her apron with trembling hands. "Perhaps by then he will be in a more... responsive mood."
But she knew, deep in her bones, her instinct and experience as a nurse tells her that Prince Rhaegar would not be responsive. Not in any way that normal folk could understand. And as she made her way toward the kitchens to fetch fresh milk, she had decided to not speak much in front of the prince and do her job as quickly as she can and get out before she start to freak out,she found herself praying not for the prince's health or happiness, but for the strength to endure those terrible, knowing eyes.
***
(Aegon's POV)
Aegon was bored. Terribly, awfully bored. Mother had made him sit through another boring lesson with boring Maester Orwyle about boring history, he was three name days old and he had to suffer an hour long lecture about it from master orwyle whose voice could be compared to a dying old hag.
Now he was free to play after his lectures but Helaena was too small to be any fun, and Father was busy being king, and Mother was praying again, and that meant
Rhaegar.
Although reluctant Aegon grinned, a mischievous glint in his purple eyes. His little brother was sometimes good for entertainment, even if the entertainment was watching him be weird. And Rhaegar was weird. So, so weird.
And he liked teasing him, it is one his hobbies
He found his brother in the gardens, sitting under a rose bush like some kind of strange garden gnome, staring at a beetle crawling across a leaf. Typical.
"Rhaegar!" Aegon announced his presence loudly, swaggering over with all the confidence of a three-year-old prince. "Play with me!"
Rhaegar looked up. For a moment, their eyes met—gold to purple, brother to brother—and Aegon saw something flicker across Rhaegar's face. Not quite an expression, but something. Like the boy was thinking very hard about something very important.
'He is going to say yes,' Aegon thought. 'Or maybe suggest a game. Or—'
Nothing. Rhaegar just... stared at him. His face went blank again, like someone had snuffed out a candle, and his eyes took on that distant, glazed quality that meant he had gone somewhere inside his own head where Aegon could not follow.
Five seconds. Ten. Fifteen.
'not again' he thought with a grimace
"Rhaegar?" Aegon waved a hand in front of his brother's face. "Are you deaf?"
Still nothing. It was like talking to a statue. A really pretty statue with silver-gold hair that Mother was always fussing over, but a statue nonetheless.
He was now almost used to it by now and
Patience was not one of aegon's virtues, even though he liked to tease his little brother now and then, now was not the time as it was his precious playtime and rhaegar didn't look like he'll join anytime soon.
He remembered that he had another lesson later on and he couldn't waste much time here.
"You are so weird!" Aegon declared, throwing his hands up in exasperation. "Forget it! I will go find someone else to play!"
He stomped off toward the kennels, where at least the dogs would be excited to see him. But as he walked, he found himself thinking about his brother, and the thinking made him uncomfortable and angry in a way he did not quite understand.
'Why does he do that?' Aegon wondered, kicking a pebble across the path.
'I know he can talk. I have heard him say words. "Yes" and "no" and sometimes he says Mother's name and talks with her, Hell, he has even talked with me sometimes, albeit very rarely, still why does he just stare at me like I am not even there?'
It made Aegon feel... small. Unimportant. And it angered him very much Like he was not worth the effort of a response.
And that was stupid, because Aegon was the heir. He was the oldest. He was the important one. Mother said so. Everyone in the whole Red Keep knew that Prince Aegon was special and Prince Rhaegar was just... Rhaegar.
But if that was true, why did Rhaegar make him feel like he did not matter?
'Humph, I'll have to show him his place and teach him to be respectful to his prince' He couldn't stand his brother at these times.