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the septons say we must love our brothers.

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process of this piece:

When Maekar was born and Myriah introduced him to Rhaegal, saying, “look, this is your baby brother! You’re a big brother now, like Baelor and Aerys,” Rhaegal was happy yet confused, and asked if he could, “pet,” the baby.

He came out with no hair, and was completely bald until he was a little over two.

He certainly wasn’t an easy baby to handle. He was fussy, pulled on hair and jewelry, and often bit his mother and his wet nurses while nursing.

He was a very jealous and clingy baby. He demanded to be held at all times, would throw a fit whenever his parents/brothers would pay attention to someone that wasn’t him, and he had a meltdown when Aerys told him that Myriah was his mother too, and not just Maekar’s. (Then he made it worse by adding that Baelor was his big brother too, and that meltdown was nuclear.)

Loved rough housing with Baelor. Baelor would hold him by his ankle like a fresh caught fish and swing him around, he’d pick him up and throw him across the room into a pile of pillows, and a bunch of other shit that scared their mother half to death, and the entire time little Maekar would shrieking with laughter.

Headcanon that Egg was taught that little superstition by Daeron who learning from their mother Dyanna, a Dayne of Starfall.

Perhaps even after Dyanna’s death, even when he had grown older and stopped believing in magic and the goodness of the world, Daeron held out that hope, and made a wish anytime he saw a falling star and held onto that promised luck.

“Please, rid me of these dreams”

“Please, keep my brothers and sisters safe. That they won’t carry my curse.”

Moaning and groaning about how the cold makes his bones ache and his skin crack. He’s bundled under the thickest wools and furs money can buy and still demanding more logs be added to the fire every five minutes.

His pouty face is made almost endearing by his bright red cheeks and nose.