TO LOVE A KING || Maegor II Targaryen [SLOW UPDATES]

04▪️ OF BLOOD, ENEMIES & REBELLION

Six months after Maegor’s appointment as heir to the Iron Throne, the skies above the Red Keep churned with anger. A storm raged fiercely, thunder rolling like a beast growling through the heavens, and the heavens themselves seemed to crack open, unleashing torrents of rain that flooded the streets of King's Landing.

Dark clouds swallowed the realm whole, casting the world into shadow, as a gale tore through the city. The wind howled, bending trees and rattling windows. It was as though the gods themselves were holding their breath, awaiting the fate of the kingdom.

In the midst of this tempest, Queen Aemma's labor began. Her water broke, and with it, the calm of the Red Keep shattered.

The palace turned into a flurry of activity, servants scurrying to and fro, Grand Maester Mellos frantically consulting with wet nurses, while the midwives prepared for the birth of the long-awaited child.

The air was thick with anticipation and anxiety. Maegor, with a calm demeanor born of his newfound role, remained by his sister in-law’s side. His hand rested on her brow as he guided her through the agonizing moments, offering words of comfort as the storm outside raged ever harder.

"Don’t worry, Aemma. I’m here," Maegor whispered, his voice steady, though a trace of anxiety lingered beneath.

Aemma, her face pale and drawn with the intensity of her labor, took his hand. "Go to him, Maegor," she breathed out, her voice barely a whisper as she squeezed his hand. "Tell your brother I love him......I love you."

Maegor kissed her forehead, whispering, "I love you too." It was a fleeting moment of peace before he had to leave.

He brushed his lips against her hand one last time before turning, his eyes lingering on her with a mix of worry and resolve. He knew that the night would mark the end of one chapter and the beginning of another, but what remained uncertain was how the gods would shape the future.

As he entered the King's chambers, Maegor found his brother, King Viserys, in a state far worse than he had imagined. The once-proud ruler lay in agony, wracked with pain from the cancer that had eaten away at him.

The years of suffering were evident in his frail body, the life force draining from him like the last vestiges of light before dusk. Maegor’s heart clenched as he approached his brother, offering him the Milk of the Poppy that Viserys had refused for so long.

Viserys groaned, the sound of his voice hoarse and weak. "Tell Aemma… I’m sorry."

Maegor's hand was gentle as he dabbed the damp cloth against Viserys’s brow. "Shh… It’s okay, brother," Maegor soothed, though the pain in his heart was undeniable. "She’s still in labor. She’s strong, and she’ll be fine."

Viserys coughed, his body shuddering with each breath, his eyes clouded with pain and regret. "I'm sorry I can't stay for long," he muttered weakly, as though apologizing for leaving the world, for leaving Maegor behind to face the weight of the crown alone.