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SOMETIMES Maia thought about the name, Jaehaerys, and how it would feel nice for it to fall from her lips. It was a sweet name, one that made her think of flowers and fire. But when she looked at Jon Snow, she did not see a Jaehaerys.
And sometimes, she tried to convince herself the dream she had was just a dream. She wanted to disregard everything that made it seem real. She didn't want to think how much those infant's eyes looked like Jon's, because she told herself it wasn't real. Maia Sanders knew it wasn't real.
Dreams only lasted so long, thankfully, and like every morning, Maia woke up in Jon's arms. They would break their fast and she would watch the sun rise before playing with the small folk children of Winterfell for the rest of the morning. Sometimes the Wildling children joined in, and she would play games and the like with them. It almost reminded her of her old job back in her world, and she found herself missing it.
But Maia was never one for responsibility. She loved playing with the children every morning and telling them stories, but actually taking care of a child day and night? That took guts. She already had the fate of everyone around her hanging on her shoulders, as well as a title she didn't exactly want – the last thing Maia needed was something else.
As of lately, she couldn't ignore the distant sound of a child crying. Usually, it was one outside of the castle's walls, but she could hear one nonetheless. She guessed she was letting the anxiety of the world get to her, because she found herself throwing up more than usual. Maia didn't puke very often, but would when she got extremely paranoid. This was definitely one of those times.
Though the paranoia and anxiety always subsided when she was with her friends and Jon. She grew closer to Sansa, even as she sensed Sansa may have been moving a tad bit away from her since Jon's coronation. Tormund taught her basic fighting lessons every day, but she was still more equipped with a bow and arrow. She liked it more than any other weapon he introduced to her, and Tormund couldn't deny that she was quite good. Granted, Maia already had experience.
She learned more about the legendary House Sanders. Sometimes, Maia stayed inside Winterfell's library for hours on extreme blizzard days. She searched through the shelves for any books on the houses of Westeros, and eventually found some of her supposed house. There wasn't much written due to their small size, and they weren't particularly important, besides their large army used in Robert's Rebellion.
Currently, Maia was leaning her head over a bucket. She had gotten out of bed later than Jon, and was awoken by her handmaiden, Aletia. The handmaiden was a small, dainty girl, but Maia couldn't deny that she had a sort of rigidness about her. She guessed that was what happened when she worked for the former occupants of Winterfell, the Boltons. Maia still wasn't used to having someone wait on her and help her get dressed; she had learned to do that herself from a young age in her world. In Westeros, it was obviously different.
