Mother don't eat me / mother i'm trying so hard to be better
⠀ ⸺ ⠀House of the Dragon / Fire and blood
⠀ ⸺ ⠀male!oc x multiple
⠀ ⸺ ⠀cover made by @roguesmoon <3
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Chapter eight 𓃦 Do not shut me out
There was a saying that plagued the back of Baelor's mind which he heard one late night while walking through the busy streets of King's Landing – whenever one of those Targaryens is born, the Seven flip a coin, I heard. They either become mad or die trying to be that. If he wasn't in disguise, he would have laughed in her face.
But how cruel if the fate – Baelor sitting back inside the cold chambers of Maester Orwylle, his doublet fidgeting in between his fingers on his lap as the old man inspected his back, fingers trailing every scar and cut as if that was to explain whatever entered his mind and kept him hostage. He heard Orwylle sigh and moved away, "that is getting better, my prince."
Baelor nodded, pulling the shirt back over his head, watching as the Maester walked to his desk, pulling out the stack of papers, "I assume the cuts have nothing to do with my mind."
Another sigh from Orwylle as he flipped over the pages before finally writing it down, "they are becoming more common, my prince."
Baelor bit the inside of his cheek, looking down at his feet, "I am aware of that, Maester. What I am not aware is how you can help me."
Orwylle sat on the old and creaky chair, fingers wrapped around the edges of the pages: times, places, people the prince was around whenever he came rushing inside his chambers after whatever happened to him. His eyes watched over the letters, "three attacks in the past moon while before that it was one on mayhaps six moons."
"Orwylle," Baelor spoke more sternly, almost angry at the lack of help, looking forward at the desk, "I am aware of how many times it happened, yet you seem not to wish to help me."
"Because I do not know how to, my prince," Orwylle responded, looking up from the papers: the charts, the moons, the words, "the mind of a human is a complex thing. I have read in a paper from Essos that they had a woman – screaming of hysteria after she gave birth – and that they made a burr hole in the back of her skull; to let out the evil spirits."
The prince laughed, "and you wish to treat me the same as someone from Essos? Are we not further with medicine?"
"We are not, my prince," Orwylle replied, placing the paper back, "not in the mind medicine, at least."
Baelor remained silent for a moment before speaking, "you will not put a hole in my head. I do wish to see my daughters grow up; you know?"
